f{.l99S3if Cornell University Library PR5021.M4A6 Ah, happy Engiandia forecast of a genera 3 1924 013 525 344 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013525344 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND AH, HAPPY ENGLAND A FORECAST OF A GENERAL LAMENT. ^ H^atm IN FIVE ACTS. BY EMPSON EDWARD MIDDLETON, Poeta Deo. AUTHOR OF "THE CRUISE OF THE KATE, OR A SINGLE-HANDED VOYAGE ROUND ENGLAND," ETC., ETC. J. O N D O N . (For the Author,) JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, PICCADILLY. 1871. MAMMON'S OWN REFRAIN. I'm my own God ! I'm my own God I Bow down and worship me ! Bow down, bow down, bow down, bow down, bow down and worship me ! Bow down, bow down ! I'm my own God ! Bow down ! This poem has one peculiarity. — It is Shakesperian — Every one has his or her say, and says it slap out. THIS POEM IS TO THE UNMARRIED WORLD. CONTENTS. PAGE ARGUMENT . « ^ ACT I. . * II ACT II. * . 32 ACT III. . 43 ACT IV . 80 ACT V. . . .94 Attempts at morality, even when genuine Attempts, are based upon A gooss, det^table, damnable, superstition, that The mind is independent of the body. ARGUMENT. Poet finishes composition, walks to station to meet a firiend : said firiend does not arrive. Poet soliloquises ; sees a beautifiil young lady, wishes to know her, can't manage it. Fiend of Air taunts Poet, who endeavours to trace the young lady home. Fiend of Air blows his hat off Young lady vanishes. Poet takes an evening walk, discusses life, enquires about young lady at a tobacconist's. Fiend of Air gloats over the misery he causes in happy England. Bachelors abuse the Maids and Married People, form a con- spiracy, appoint the Poet leaden Maids soliloquise about life, form a conspiracy, choose a leader, deter- mine to have no balls or parties, open war with married world : Poet sends book to young lady, book returned, sends book to members of ladies' club . ladies at din^ ner with book. Bachelors take the House of Com- mons, insist on fresh laws. Maids and Bachelors visit ball-room in procession to turnout any Bachelors or Maids present. Maids fight, are locked up. Parents ARGUMENT. consider daughters disgraced by Poet, determine he shall marry them, call on Poet : page personifies Poet. Increasing population forces rapidity in mar riage service : weak timid government pass panic measure, patch-law and its consequences. Extrava- ganza. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! ACT I. Scene : — Poet's Villa. Enough of penship, poetry and prose ! What ho, my hat, be guardian of my n.ose ! Come worthy stick, we venture forth to meet — A traveller by the horse with iron feet ! Railway Station. Weary my gaze, as from the bustling throng — It turns within, bids soUtude be strong ; Nor eye, nor tongue, nor hand of all the crowd- Has aught to whisper, glance, or say aloud ; Nor is it silence of a day, but years — 12 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Re\'olve to crush what friendship most reveres, And though my sight views thousands, yet my soul- ]\Iay pledge but time, till time shall split the bowl ; No wonder then the steel of silence fibres — The poet-frame, or English blood or Tiber's. ■\Vhy should acquaintance dally and refuse — His pounds of flesh, and out of preference choose Creation's worms — which wriggle on through life — ( if crawling cares, success, and woe, and strife ? They creep and jostle each to each a measure : The pebble straining after polished treasure. Their aims are little, thus they never feel — The throbbing pulse which heats the poet's steel. Not only so, but fail to understand — That space is his, while theirs a grain of sand. Insulted that he rules by Nature's truth ; They shun the Moses, ridicule the youth, ■["he first as ever wishing to commence, While they delight in medias res and pence ; 'I'he second that simplicity appears — .V lead)' butt for over-reaching sneers : AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 13 Of course they over-reach, and ever will — Till honour's mace shall smash the teeming till ; While wealth is but a scramble without order, Or national payer, referee, recorder ! The thought of Christ was such, but rabble greed^ First crucified his flesh, and then his creed ; Thus order failed, and solitude must blight — The life of him who da^es be in the right. Poets and princes own a common P. But cross and crook must form the Poet's T. When thinking thus, a vision shot before me ; A beaming Goddess bidding hope restore me ; Yes, hope that still there beat some bosoms where, Majestic honour still may grace the fair. ^F * ^ * * What truthful faithful eyes, heroic glance ! What passioned-hair, vivacity of France ! What ready welcome, as the proffered hand — • So firmly clasped, bids treachery disband. 14 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Simplicity of dress, enchanting mien — ■ Proclaimed the woman, born to live a Queen : Queen of my heart, then let her reign supreme, Til! yes confirm, or no awake the dream. # # * * * What chance of that ? 'tis strange, 'tis wondrous strange ! \\\\2X distance lies within such little range ! A yard or two but separates us — nay. My coat may scrape acquaintance by the way ; May brush against her mantle, yet remains — So distant, space defies the fastest trains. How name this stubborn inch, which scoffs at hope, And mumbles headers, bullets or a rope? Enta- the fiend of air. The fiend of air ! Beware, the fiend of air ! Tremble, thou human worm ! for mine the care — To fence the stubborn inch ; or rubber-like. Extend it over ocean, dam, and dike. Tremble, O worm ! 'tis mine to cause the slip — \\niich often intervenes 'twixt cup and lip. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! 15 I know thy thoughts : that lonely maid has lit, The dying fancies I delight to twit. How near and yet how far ! that inch remains — To thee, poor wretch, a wilderness of pains. What if a friendly crowd compress you both, And you undaunted, lover-like, not sloth To seize the profifer'd chance, should whisper low ; I breathe suspicion bid the poison flow, Or deafen all alike : some sudden crash Distracts, your whisper ! dies before the flash I gleam around ; or if it suits me better, Stagnation is another form of fetter : She faints ; attendants or some aged toad eh ? RemoMC her quickly, leaving you the goad eh ? vo^T walking home, spirit of kik follows. Accursed is loneliness that robs the heart Of joy of loving, even if to part ; How feed on shadows, cursed is the sham — ■ That walls me from that vision as a dam ■ i6 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! And even buzzes, twits my longing gaze — And stuns my hearing with some sudden phrase. I talk aloud, but never yet despair — Has jeered as this : some devil's in the air. Myself despair ? determination's hero ? I'll let this devil know I am a hero. I'll burn the lightning, blast the thunder, or — ■ Whate'er would turn my footsteps from her door. Its name or number shall disclose — O stop her ! O million curses catch my best bell-topper. \_Exit, pursui?ig hat. Re-enter the fiend of air. Ha, ha, wouldst burn the lightning, blast the thunder ? How now ? defeated by a little blunder ? A breath of mine concentred on your hat — Has changed your key from sharp to lowest flat ; And you shall find a little puff of space — Can lengthen to a never-ending chase. A devil, I, my imps are many, and As widely spread throughout this sunny land. AH, HAPP Y ENGLAND t 1 7 This sunny land ! this happy England ! ha ! Mine is the sovereignty of Pa and Ma. A fluid, I — am everywhere, engage — To disappoint the lover's burning rage. My imps are -wealth and pedigrees, position ; To torture health and wedding-grees'-inition ; Personified from title to a parson By avaricious worshippers who fasten On any pretext which will slam the door, And leave each sluggish nose a quiet snore ; Delicious snore of callousness and ease. An intermitting waking just to seize — Contemptuous seconds, brimming full of sneers At toiling love ; — to them a hate of fears. Of fear, lest others should enjoy, and thus — Invade the satisfaction of a sus ; That doubtful sex which biased or in germ — The Latins 'cutely cited in a term. Re-enter poet. A thousand blasphemies pursue that squall ! Not even Argus could detect the hall i8 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! That evanescent angel has retired to ! Tongue against his sight — his hundred eyes had tired too, Had corners been in fashion — here are turns — Enough to tangle anyone's concerns. A crescent too to make deception mixed ! However things get straight so crookly fixed ? If every pair must be a prickly, pricks — Rebel against the barrenness of bricks. What cursed piles, that neither hear nor speak But onion-like are whole or only leek ; The latter chiefly for with tale* erect, The weepage proves that misery's elect. No use to linger here ! my tongue shall find — The house, and name, if all are not struck blind. Description yet shall beggar all her charms ; Such hair, such eyes, heroic nose and arms. Such beauty cannot pass : of course the shops — Can soon relieve this agony of stops ; * The Egyptian tale of bricks — that is, that each house is one of tears and misery. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 19 Come then cigar and sooth the fiend to sleep — Whose province guards the inch, and travel's keep. FIEND OF AIR. A noble youth indeed ! then more the fun — To handicap the courser in the run. He little dreams what weight he has to carry- Before he even knows the one he'd marry. A stranger he, without a friend at need ! 'Tis well : my imps, propriety and greed, Shall weight him down, deprive his every chance — Deny him introductions, look askance Should accident uphold his name in hearing — Or hint the thought that poets are endearing. poet's evening walk. What lovely night ! what pureness in the sky ! What awe-bewildering majesty on high ! Ye twinkling stars, ye surely must contain The want of what is constant, bitter pain : 2 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! That other self, appearing not on earth — Mast be with you, or all is but a dearth. Years have I wandered looking for a friend. Still finding none, on whom I can depend. A wife, a wife ! what bliss is in the meaning ! What solitude must choke the intervening ! Of women there are multitudes, I trow ! But where the one to shield a marriage vow ? To realize the holiness of life ; To love, be chaste, in short to be a wife ; Submissive, not contentious, ever leaning As soul on soul ? Ah, there, you catch my meaning ! The multitudes are soulless, only love — A trousseau, bracelet, diamond ring or glove ; A puppy, parrot, and important gait ; A pampered self and let the beggar wait. What, such immortal ? no : the soul is, but — No room for soul in conscience-trodden nut ! The Adam had a soul ; his children bred it ; Since when false breeding simply bred to tread it ; AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! But I, a spirit, sympathize with right, Must wed a spirit or my life is, night ; No day may beam, however bright the sun — Until my kindred vision's found and won : Till then I toil and duteously obey. Perform my task, as cheerly as I may. Some right remains to grumble, as I see — The rooted wrong may flourish as a tree ; Though rarely green, and never, ever, for — A sickly sap, but feeds a rooted raw : The tree grows up a shadow, not a true ; Began as dying ! wonders why it grew. ***** A shop tobacconist above the door ! A likely spot for information's jaw. A window-peep will tell if man or dame — May best entice my queries for a name. But softly till I haul my wits together I A dame I see : so let me coil my tether ; Remove the kinks ; 'tis best with running gear- To see it free, belaying clinches near. 22 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Again for fear of shoals, prepare the lead ; Now let me see, what knots are in my head ; I want to know a certain lady's name ? There's depth in that — no bottom : steer the same. I want to know a certain lady's house ! A rocky course —no danger says the souse. I want to know, who 'twas with raven hair ! A dangerous sand ; go easy — have a care ! I want to know, nor let the Madam scent. A narrow pass, yet fathoms mean in tent. The helm's amidships, still I want to know ! The fathoms shallow every yard I go. Another peep ! a spinster, may be forty ; At fault, a rhyme I'll touch on piano-forte. My vision's lips ! I feel they are a singer's ! I'll try abuse and satirize with stingers. THE SHOP. Good starlight, madam ; twinkles in the sky — Assure me your cigars are good and dry. MADAM. Good-evening ; an astronomer, I suppose ! AB, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 23 You'll find them all just suited to your nose. My husband knew the hidden world to Mars — And died when sorting sympathy with stars ; A grand invention, that, the smoker might — For ever harmonize with passing night. Each star in its ascendant should be tasted ! What mighty mind : what brilliant genius wasted ! Another hour each brand received its mark ; The Juno, Venus, Jupiter or dark. The latter was expressive of the hidden ! There was a loss ! but death will not be bidden. The secret vanished, but the Venus brand — Most luckily received his last command. To-night her star is brilliantly ascending. I warrant certain sympathy attendmg. But you are young ! and handsome too, and married ? I keep them for the luckless who miscarried. But try one if you fancy any danger May threaten nightly roving to a stranger. The price is twopence ; sympathy is certain — For any question on the wedding curtain. 24 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! POET. The dame is surely shallow-brained, but still^ My office should console for every ill. Her loss no doubt is terrible and great ! Ah, madam, how invincible is fate ! A gallant man your spouse ; a mighty soul ! What disappointment clouds the smoker's bowl, To hear such heaven had been reached by man ; Been fashioned, all but moulded in a plan. What ecstasy to smoke the fragrant weed And commune with one's other-self and read The dulcet sympathy arising in the cloud, Which mocks at hope, and skeletons a shroud. Some thirty years I've lingered on till'now ; But ghastly spectres jeer around my brovr, And clank their horrid chains ; which but for hope Had linked together, marred my horoscope ; But cheer you, madam, England yet shall raise A lasting tribute to your husband's praise ; Yourself, no doubt will be renowned in time, Immortalized in poetry and rhyme. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 25 Myself am but a stranger in your town ! It seems to me that all your maidens frown, Are pensive, fair, or crooked-nosed look down : Redeem your sex, if you can tell me any — Especial beauties from the ugly many. The sympathy from Venus you foretold — Has made them all appear so very old. So very old, sir ! and the ugly many ! If so it's made you like a greasy penny ! Had I but known the charm of this consulting — Your copper skin had never been insulting. You verdigrisy monster ! crooked-nosed as well ? I know a one a houter houter belle ! Perhaps I'll not be telling her to-morrow ? She don't want pennies : no way need to borrow. POET. But gentle dame ! 26 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i MADAM. Be off, sir, there's the door. POET. Now Hsten, or I'm rooted to the floor ! The present are excepted — the reverse ! Your lovely change forbids you being terse ! MADAM. Your lovely change ! and pray what's the reverse ? What changed to, lovely Sir, you want a nurse ! I see you're only cracky, or my stick- Should hide you as a sani-lunatic ! POET. But, madam, listen ! MADAM {aside.) He said my lovely change ! roET. I never. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 27 MADAM (aside.) Perhaps he is a parson with a grange ! POET. Be calm, dear madam : I apologise. MADAM. well, you're growing saner I surmise ! Perhaps I was too angry, but my sex — Must be defended, however much I vex. We're very proud of all our maidens here. 1 think, dear sir, your eyesight wasn't clear ! There's so-and-so and so-and-so, and one We hold to be the loveliest 'neath the sun. Her raven hair is beautiful blue black ! Her eyes would give the Koohinoor the sack ! Her nose heroic ; lovely lips and bust, Would melt you, you must know her, yes you must 1 Your punishment shall be to look and die ! She lives in Belmont Villa. Miss de Sigh. 28 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i POET. Good evening, madam, as she's missed a sigh 'Tis time she changed her name to Mrs. I. MADAM. Well, wash your head, and give your brains a chance ! {Exit POET.) A spunky sort ; there's metal in his glance ! There's worse than him, with some the breeches carries- The heart and all the properties one marries. THE FIEND OF AIR. Most deftly done, a clever too, a wit ! Well lover's tortures best design the hit. There's that imprinted on his face that cries — " No world of fiends shall shut me from my prize." Well I can stretch the agony and rack — His purpose till it fade him to a hack. Ah, how delicious ! sicken both with life ; Destroy their youth, then tie them man and wife. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 79 Ah, happy England ! how the incense rises — ■ From writhing victims on my altar guises ! O worthy altars, costly to erect ! But now as ever, Space's own elect ! O duteous Pomp, your sacrifices scent Of living death, of agony unbent : Not only must your victims writhe, but seem — To quaff delight from power's treacherous dream ; Must give their all, surrender nature, doom — Their image to a sepulchre, whose womb Produces whitened skeletons of skin. Whose pulseless, nerveless properties within. The creatures fancy still resemble man. Not so : my kindnesses to them began. By utterly destroying heart and soul ! Thus breeding their descendants to control — By help of false inheritance without — ■ The conscience of the natural man to doubt — If constant treading, slaying of one's kind, Is really work for rulers of mankind. 30 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! POET. So, SO, a Miss de Sigh and Belmont Villa. My bowline truly bore a weather tiller. My trusty lead has fathomed out the course, But shoaler grows the river to its source ! And many are the rocks ahead before I sip the fountain from a sighing door. The name's propitious, for De Sigh should mean A fund of sighing sympathy that's keen. At present I have certainty to deal with ! A secret she — how find the stamp to seal with ! Unmarried is but wafered, hardly safe ! Love's hurricane would make a cable chafe ! And if a restless spirit seeking truth, Despair may end in sudden endless ruth. Oft have I felt as if it could not matter ; A duchess or a bootress, or a hatter. Deception lurks throughout the human race No matter what is written on the face ; But yet when plunging terribly, my rope Has tightened to electric shock of hope : AB, HAPPY ENGLAND I 31 She lives, but like yourself she cannot meet, That other self, that vision she would greet ; Then haul the foresail, let us ride the blast. Lay to that lying single end at last ! The selfsame storm must bring the few together — ■ Who face it out, nor run for better weather. THE FIEND OF SPACE. Lay-to, or run ; approximation shall — Make lingering hope, the bitterer my palL ACT II. A bachelor's meeting. Good evening, Vera, go you the week to-night ? The muster promises a tempting sight, Six reigning belles, the seventh Miss De Sigh, ^Vhat say you, shall we jointly take a fly ? .SECOND BACHELOR. I hate the dancing ! flirting is a bore. And marriage but exposure by the law ; Besides, you know I've been so long abroad ! Forget them all, and strangers are abhorred. In happy England introductions place Such wilderness of most perplexing space Between oneself and partner, that the distance- Appears the greater with the more persistence ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 33 I'm always staggered, always at a loss : I'd rather have a game at pitch and toss ! There is no profit now-a-days in making Acquaintance-shade, to be a real leave-taking ! I've known some thousands, but I know not one ; I'm sick of chancing marriage by the tun : Acquaintanceship was formerly progressive ; But happy England thinks it now aggressive ; You mustn't this, you mayn't the other, till — A title or position gilds the pill. FIRST BACHELOR. Yes, true enough, but Miss De Sigh's a catch ! SECOND BACHELOR. A tinder-box on which to strike a match ! I know the sort have sparkled till I'm charred : But venture on ! the scraper's pretty hard ! In fact it gets more gritty as the spark — Expires and leaves a tempting bit of dark. 34 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! You think you see a chance and give a rub ! The shock reminds one of an icy tub ; A gleamy gUsten hghts the chilly crust, It breaks, you freeze — no more for me, I trust. My youth betrayed, I choose preserve my age. With ready Sue, than wince a married page. THIRD BACHELOR. But what of Miss De Sigh ? I hope you hinted Some inner charm — not merely what is printed ! They advertise so largely, always starting — As if for keener satire with a parting. A flower-bed, and gravel walk the hair — Declares the roots had never sprouted there ; Then earth in what they prize as precious gems, Must sell the pipes by advertising stems ; Yet lower still — a stomacher lays bid,'^ The bosom's fiendish, consequently hid. Again descending ever swollen dresses — Enlarge the sham of wondrous stolen tresses ; AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 35 And finally the conscience in the slippers- Makes sole excuse for flower-bed and snippers. A sham without, parades a sham within, I wouldn't marry such for worlds of tin ! If Miss De Sigh is only such as they — For heaven's sake let others make the hay. Ah, happy England, pedigree of monkeys ! Try back, Sir Darwin, head a tree from flunkies : But manhood first, immortalize it, add — The artificial vice in which it's clad ; Then mind and time together would create The actual beast, death makes them imitate ! Those aping monkeys rapidly in time, Would sprout a tail, and swing about and climb : Those who intensify the froggish strain, AVith years, would merely croak about the plain ! The treacherous, the hissing who forsake — Would rapidly degenerate to snake ; While tigers would abound, and lions roaring — Would be nobihty that failed of soaring. 36 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Developed wings would sprout to save the lives- Of heaven's few, as angels, men, or wives : Then age be thankful, death releases mind — • From forcibly developing its kind. For beings are but mind in form of matter ; 'Tis quality determines what the latter. I hold the better reason should determine — That man was first, and out of him the vermin. Immortal man, in form and mind a god — Destroyed himself by worship of his rod. He deified himself, denied his Maker, So mercy sent him death and undertaker. If man, again, would be immortal, he — Must seek his age in true morality ; For intellect alone is not divine. But natural passion, knowledge must combine To form the Adam as he was at first Without the killing vices, such as thirst Of gold and power, and the savage tooth : Those Bible writers nearly hit the truth. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND 1 37 Now Darwin sees the savage and concludes — Such represent the origin of nudes ; But why suppose the savage was the first, ^Vho trod a certain soil, or slaked his thirst In such a river ? I must hold that they — Are nothing but degenerated clay ; For it is undeniable that mind — Deteriorates from vices of mankind ; And it is undeniable that mind — Intensifies as moral virtues bind ; Now intellect may make an engine, but — May want the justice to protect the hut ; For justice is divine morality, And when the world is tangled to totaUty Another Adam must appear — a genius Whose special office is to paint the heinous, To show the vice, and how it ruins races — By sinking marriage into monied chases. ; Again : to chase the virtue to its source. And give the world a chance of better course. 38 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I The vicious strains re-acting on the mind Again re-act, unhinging human kind. I feel convinced the vital parts must alter, And breed for nothing but the hangman's halter. What dreadful world then, must it be when these — • Have power, and purpose nothing but their ease ! At present, marriage tends to worse and worse. You hope a blessing, find you have a curse. What can the children be but curdled blood ? 1 think it time for just a little flood. If Europe had a ducking and a salting, I feel that ham-strung vice would go a-halting. America may yet redeem mankind ; But Europe and the Devil are combined. FOURTH BACHELOR. Yath, O yath ! haw hawppy England, but. Your sweet conundrum has perplexed my nut ! You spoke of pipes and stems ! now I agwee, If so, a man's his own tobacco twee ? AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 39 What says the poet, chewing silence still ! hungry man, you never have your fill ! Rebellion is your duty — flash some rage ! 1 know you'd scorn to wince a married-page ; Then lightning on the audience, thunder out ! We'll all obey — wherever be the rout ! We're men of action itching for a spree, But puzzled for a novelty you see ? We've done so many, kindly but invent ! I'll bludgeon all the world to your intent. ALL BACHELORS- Hurrah, hurrah, but lead us on, we follow ! But spunk it out, we'll tally ho and holler, POET (aside). Existence best explains, why silence chews ! But these would live, so life shall not refuse, POET TO THE MEETING. Unhappy scions of unhappy years, Blest are the words, which thus surprise my ears. 40 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! The poet truly breathes rebellion's child. And thus as nature's monarch is reviled By deadened self, by poisonous interests which — Think all obedience should be to the rich ; Who claim a throne without the power to govern- And force the laws, like chickens in an oven. The less complying with the want the better ! For thus the want must fit in with the fetter. Deadened in feeling, pulseless but to gain ; Their earths would show a very guanoed strain. Egyptians once embalmed, but missed the use ! Not analysing, earth to show abuse ! But this I feel — a poet's dust is clay! — As far removed from theirs as night from day ;' When poets frame the laws, then heaven reigns, Till then the rich man's hell rewards your pains, And marriage not of hearts but purses must — Assist to trample feeling in the dust. Adultery then alone can save the earth From often bringing monsters to the birth. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND 1 41 Thus vice must needs be purified by vice Attachment suffers : passionless as ice, The progeny but one remove from hell Becomes a tyrant or contemptuous belle. AVhat hope can manhood have ? how ever find Heroic mate to match heroic mind, When faithfulness attachment to the right. Is ridiculed by scramblers after might ? Come then, my subjects, form you in a band. Accept this as your leader's first command ; Let none attend the ball, but let it be — Select to those who worship their degree ; The married are the few, unmarried many ! A sovereign cannot be without the penny ! It's simply for convenience of the pence, Which latter represent the toil and sense. The Bachelors resemble all the fun ! The married but a pound and stupid one ; How many are we ? 3 42. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! ALL VOICES. Twenty-one, and true To live or die for such a king as you. POET. Then separate and advertise the joke ; Secure your friends and pass them under yoke ? Ourselves will form a watch of maly-witches ; No bachelor attends, at least not in his breeches. The ball at ten, we'll dine at seven, to be — In time to fully gauge this novel spree. (Break up of meeting}) POET. What sacrifice to principle ! this ball — Might fairly tempt a lapse from duty's call ; It would have introduced me, though again — Philosopher and poet must refrain On principle from dancing, so that I Would hardly chance to captivate De Sigh. ACT III. Boudoir of Belle Number One. Elizabeth, my list! directly : there, you owl ! Take warning instantly, how dare you scowl ? And such a name, a syllable's too much. But three fatigues it might as well be Dutch ! Such working of the tongue ! I hate to speak. I wish I were a Roman or a Greek With numerous slaves attending every look And knowing all one wants just like a book ! Ah, those were times, they never spoke, the rod- Put wondrous meaning in a quiet nod. But now the world is crazy, and a maid — May really use her ears : the saucy jade ! 44 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! I hate them all : would Eunuchs were in fashion, These women always put me in a passion. They're educated : never know their place, And worse, have mostly got a pretty face ! What trouble I have had, I hate a fright. But also dread comparison at night : I've caught Eliza smiling as I paint. I wear myself to death, and then when faint Must be insulted by a saucy girl A\'hose cheeks are rosy, teeth just like a pearl : She knows it too, the hussy, she shall go. My constitution can't be worried so. Now let me see, these dreadful men, this ball — Disgusting, so fatiguing — hate it all ! C)bliged to go and sweat one's life away To force some idiot take a wife away. "We girls are fearfully put on, the boys Get all the money, flourish it on toys : Some beastly horse, some petticoat that's nameless ; Though as for that, I hate a fool that's flameless. Now let me see, I'll only dance with Clair, AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 45 "With Essex and with Gordon if he's there ; He's very sly, requires a quiet snub ! He's only third the hideous little cub ; But made of money, Clair had better wake. He'll find no profit quacking like a drake ! I know the dodge — ^but why do women )deld ? Let no man ever dream that I'm a field ! His time is now, with ring and purse the latter Necessity, an insult, but no matter — • I didn't make society, but find it. And as a maid my duty is to blind it. I had a heart, they broke it, and the pieces Require binding by a lot of leases. A large estate, a grand position only Can compensate a heart that must be lonely. I loved him dearly, would have made a wife, But avaricious parents wrecked my life. And as for him, I know not if he live, But if he does it's only like a sieve. They robbed him, made him reckless; hand to mouth Must be his struggle whether north or south ! 4(5 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! The parents, and the lawyers, and the wills, Make all the mischief, plunge the world in ills. Those married people ; happy thought, my brougham, I'll try for once and see if I can do them. The saucy people, but for us and bachelors What fun in life ; but eat and drink and patch the laws ? This ball is specially to mark the day On which a certain duchess won her way ! I'll try my best and form a league to spoil it ! 'Twill save my own, and disappoint her toilet ! No doubt her bills will prick the keener for — A full permission to adorn the floor. Drive to the club ! make haste, I'm in a hurry ! What fun we'll have, I'm really in a flurry. Boudoir of Belle No. II. Another ball, Medella, hand my list. The creature's name quite gives my tongue a twist ! What fearful names, my memory aches acquiring Such syllables, why one alone is tiring. I'm worn and jaded racing for my life ; AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 47 Tlie goal, but mere existence as a wife, What wretched times when no one dares to Hve ! Will no one save us ? O what would I give To be a man, a real one, not a sham. I'm sick of monkey shadows — what a slam ! Take warning instantly ! these maids, these maids ! Their education quite unfits the jades. They're saucy, uppish, never will obey, And each has some most new provoking way. I really think they never know their place ! For we made it, but nature make the face. There's something wrong ! were I a man, a poet, I'd very soon make all the others know it. But being woman, beardless on the chin. My fine philosophy would fail of tin. So let me see : this wretched Hst, I'm tired Of thinking by what beast I shall be hired To head his table, chatter nonsense, smile Detesting him, and company, the while. I must be more select : I'll only dance — With Clair and Essex, Gordon for a chance. 48 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! I hate them all, but their estates may patch — A heart that parents broke to suit a match. The parents, lawyers, property, and wills. Make all adultery, crowd the world with ills. They talk of Christ, he told them long ago. How things would be, that vice can end but so. They use his name, for nothing but a cloak ! Were I a man, I'd rule them all or choke ; They go to church to crucify the Saviour, Deride his word, indeed it's fine behaviour ! The bishops and the parsons also, fools — Regard their creeds as nothing else but tools ; They never understood the Bible which — Remains an endless curse upon the rich. Papa's a parson, not a Christian, he Would crucify a Christus, should there be Such miracle performed as make an Adam As son and heir to any present madam. But one is wanted badly, though the rich — Would do their best to treat him to a hitch. The manner's fashion : crucifixion's changed, AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 49 To hanging, starving, proving such deranged. Of course, a Christ could never sympathize With plunderism, murderism, lies : And what am I but murdered ? not allowed To marry, lest the children overcrowd. Such nonsense : happiness will never be until Necessity shall force an iron will On teeming millions, show them how to live And cease this ever seizing, never give. Myself am bound to Juggernaut-society : I loathe it all, especially propriety ! Such humbug, rubbish : surely life is more Than tame subservience to destruction's law. We live destroyed ; as if a kind Creator Made love to burn without its proper crater ! 'Tis population only can create The earnest justice which should legislate. Injustice has made everything a curse And matters only grow from worse to worse. We women want the suffrage, but a vote Should cease with marriage, for the married gloat so AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! On single wants, and hug themselves in thought — How best deprive the single of their naught. Yes, not content to waste the dregs of pleasure They take one's all, then kill us at their leisure. This ball is but another married show ; Where would they be, suppose we wouldn't go ? ' It's not the thing for us ; we want a meeting, Where happiness may chance to find a greeting. The useful sort of men, are never met At gatherings where we've leave to fume and fret But nothing else : heroic men would scorn To dance and giggle night away, till dawn. Such men abound, are forced abroad not known — And we must scramble for some scraggy bone — The wealthy ton : such fops as Clair and Essex — Estates indeed are wanted for their less-sex. I never yet have met what I can call A real heroic man, at any ball ; And as for this one, if the rest will join. We'll leave it to the married and their coin. AIT, HAPP Y ENGLAND ! 5 1 What ho, my brougham, drive me to the club, I'm sick of planning how to catch a cub. Boudoir of Belle No. III. Where are my diamonds, where's that saucy minx ? I'll keep her running, work her till she sinks ; That's seven times I've sent her to the kitchen To heat an iron, dry a bit of stitching. The stairs a treadmill, how her legs must ache ! I'U teach her not to smile at my mistake. She's plump and pretty, clever too and clean, She'll tire of being witty when she's lean. I hate a wit, or prince, or duke, or peer, I always treat the sally to a sneer ; And such a sneer : I practised hard acquiring That withering curl, to show the dunce he's tiring. It's hate and hate about : I loathe them all. And here's another pompous, costly ball. PrisciUa, where's my list ? a pencil too ! You tire me, you saucy girl, you do ! How dare you have three syllables : I'm sure 52 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I Your parents must have named you as a cure. What uppish people, parents breeding maids Should always give them names to suit their trades. I'm discontented, selfish, cross, and hate Each living soul in England's happy state ! Yes, happy England : prison, and with bars Of sordid mothers, avaricious Pas. What chance have I of ever being good ? How cut a healthy bough from rotten wood ? The parents' sins are visited indeed Through many generations on their seed. I just perceive the meaning ! fools have taught — Such visitation comes by ban and court. But now I see, 'tis falling off from God In parents, makes the offspring but a rod. The passage means, that natural man cannot Be artificial and preserve his lot : The vengeance follows, not as parsons teach Inflicted by the parent for the breach ; But we ourselves the children fail of right Because our parents wandered after might ; AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 53 So we must lash ourselves, heap pain on pain, Until we breed the Adam back again. The passage has been twisted just to suit An avaricious grasping after fruit; And thus instead of sin against a God Our fathers knew but sin against a nod. The thing was sinful just as suited them The Bible bade them visit it — Ahem ! How most convenient — justified by right In scourging Godhead when opposing might. It stands to reason, how can vicious brain Do else but breed a progeny to pain ? The truth is happiness is quite unknown ! The present vice but ends in future gloam ! Now happiness should be a something constant, not Dependance on the moment cold or hot. I just begin to understand, how queer, How deeply born in wickedness I fear Papa can have but Kttle chance ot heaven ; I'm twenty-five ! what pounds of wretched leaven ! Supposing I had died 1 the children's crime 54 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Should surely keep the parents longer time In hottest hell : they breed us what we are ! And do their best to keep us what we are ! I see it all ; as vicious, we must marry Some other lump of vice, some Jack or Harry ; And pave the way to hell with good intentions : Do nothing, live — an active life of mentions, I will be good ! I must endeavour since Philosophy and that my own convince ! Till now my errors lay in blood and bone ; Parental heirdom — but, I toII atone : That girl Priscilla — what a brute I feel — I'll ring again, but this time seek to heal. Priscilla I can spare you for a week. This ball need not detain you, I can seek Assistance if I want it ; here's a note, Your wages and expenses by the boat. Be off now, not a word — she's thunder-struck ! Well, so am I, indeed I'm wonder-struck 1 I'm really charmed ; I'm born again and feel As Samuel full of overflowing zeal. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 55 O, for a Christ, some heaven-inspired guide ! Some righteous heart in whom I might confide ; I'd follow such, obey his every word ; But where is he ? O dear ! the hope's absurd ; If such an one existed and proclaimed His kingship, he would rapidly be named A radical, or socialist, be branded A ruffian-general to be reprimanded. Again the scribes and pharisees would kill The Adam born to clear the world of ill. But women now-a-days have power-I Would march along with such a one, or die. About this ball ? I'm sick of monkey-capers — I want to live — the club and evening papers. (Exit to Club. Boudoir of Belle No. Four. What, more fatigue, parkde, and pompous prancing ? We must be cheese ! we're churned so in the dancing ! Were mothers given dairies that the cream Should curdle to such agonized extreme ? Z6 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! O life, O life ! is this why man was born ? To fight with nature : be ; exist to mourn ? O never was such generation : never ; Affections robbed ; or stupid or if clever It's all the same ; the heart must crack and strain Be dwarfed to mock the fire in the vain. And why ? to suit the pampered age of livers, As wealth — diseased as foulest filthy rivers ; So stagnant, mud-defiled that naught can float : Yet revel in the sinking of the boat. O hoary age is honourable, but then It must be that of honourable men Who understand the fitnesses of life : And know the law best suited to the wife. At present, throbbing pulses, bleeding hearts Are sacrificed by law to pleaders' arts. Except to rogues, the agony of life Would prove how false must be this endless strife. Did God make man that he should murder man For property and gold, by parson's ban ? God made the man and woman, not the parson ; AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! 57 Why mayn't I live, till somebody shall fasten These marriage chains, which may turn out but rust ? What are my passions for if not to trust ? How can one bound by wretched prison-notions Discover whales, when such forbid the oceans. The sea of men, must surely hold the man ; Experience be much better hook, than ban. At present all this fishing in a puddle But ends in sprats, or else in endless muddle. But then, of course, the rich must be protected ! So murder points the shriek of " you're detected, Permission was not granted : you should wait Till our interests suffer such a state ; Our pedigrees and parks, and pockets must Be first consulted : zouiids, you're only dust. It's not convenient, and the law must punish ;" Pray, why not add, it's ours and only monish ? I'm rich enough, but might as well be poor : I'm sacrificed ! can only meet a boor ; Some horrid pampered creature : how can hearts Do reverence — to soulless selfish parts ? 4 58 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! I hate these balls. I loathe the social laws Denying life, except by moral flaws. I see no choice : consumption, or a fool : Or else be paralysed to but a tool ! Such is the chance of life ! well of the three Let Mrs. Fool pour wisdom in the sea. I still may find some little consolation In suffering for another's preservation. Besides that other might — it's odd I know, But still the feeling keeps recurring so : It may be that our future world is here ! If so, the cruel only persevere To form their hell ; for they may rest assured They'll feel the evils which they should have cured. Some future life is certain : Avhy should not This world perform the duty of a pot, And prove the plant, before another earth Receives it as a flower of some worth ? Photography may show that soulless life, Must bear perpetual burden in the strife. Till purified by suffering it arise — AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 59 To glory in immortal heaven's guise. O earth, O earth, had Christ but had a throne — What wondrous laws had boiled contention's bone ! What happiness had flowed throughout a land Where heavenly justice held a firm command ! They crucified him ; robbery remains — To wrest the profit from the toiler's gains. The punishment ior slaying justice groans From teeming millions murdered by the drones. The curse is heavy on us all, because — No heavenly mind has ever made the laws. We die, we die, and writhe in living death In hut or palace, poisoned by the breath Of foul contention, carrion-bird of power Whose noisome sweat, a loathsome vampire-shower Must stink, in every nostril, pallour every cheek Where honour dwells in hopes some God will speak. How long, how long, O God ? how long must all Endure this ever agonizing thrall ? Bereft of feeling, man has grown to stone. And woman signs her bondage in a groan. 4—3 6o AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i Not so : let's up ; some spirit fires my vein : Some daring purpose whirls my woman-brain. The very poets, spunkless, fail the fight ; The nerveless wretches tremble at the right. No righteous frenzy dashes down the thought ! No Samuel beards the devil in his court ! {Enter maid with note.) Bella, thou best of maids, how now — a letter ! This odious ball ; my brougham, I had better Refresh my myself; I'll have a quiet tub, Then tak? a turn and wind up at the Club. Boudoir of Belle No. Five. Ah well, if this is going on I'd rather Have never known a mother or a father. I've danced away my boots ; my very garfers Look down upon my stockings just as martyrs : Poor wretched Jane has darned them till she's tired — My sinews even puff, and must be fired ; My silks are trashed to bits, my cottons torn ; My chignon's worried and my spirit's worn. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 6i I'm pretty, more than pretty, charming too, I'm told ; Yet here I am a maiden — yes and old : I'm twenty-six ! I have no money, nor Can Pa and Ma afford me any more. My race is run : I struggled gamely, glance Nor angry word has ever shown the lance ; Yet goodness only knows how deeply anguish Has branded lately, " you can only languish A wretched maid ; unknown, uncared for, hated, By those whose honour should have seen you mated." I've had proposals by the score, but then — • The want of money proved the hollow men — Yes, hollow men, for several had sufficient ! The polished creatures ; polished, bah, deficient ! So deficient, even surface friction wore The wretched sham ; showed hollowness at core. Engaged : I broke engagements when my swain Could only polish liquor, then complain. I ever found that woollen, silk, and leather, Such touchy polish, that a change of weather Invariably destroyed the whole, and broke — 62 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i The mirrored charm of such a polished yoke. There must be sorcething wrong when hfe itself Depends upon a booby and his pelf I could have lived, I could have loved —but life — In murdered England means a wealthy wife. We're simply murdered by the rich, who neither Revere a God, or any power either, Which fails to terrorise the cowards — draw — The sword of God to re-assert the law. The creatures bred to plunder have no soul, No power of getting one ; their sordid roll In long continued murder of their kind Has killed the conscience, stamped it out of mind. The test is plain : for had they soul, then God- Would lie before them, bleeding on the sod They claim as theirs by robbery, but which — Almighty God ordained for poor and rich. For rich may be, and rich to God as well, But robbing rich, are simply rich to hell. Amendment or extermination ! slaughter — In such a case is truly heaven's daughter. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! 63 At present yearly slaughter murders millions, That grasping wealth may chariot over billions ; And England's homes and shores are not defended Because the laws are waiting to be mended. John's Uncle* is correct, defence requires That England's states shall own the English shires. A firm dictator, just a man of God Is badly wanted to reclaim the sod. This crying robbery cuts through every rank : Or toiler, maid — the life is but a blank. What use are balls ? we want the laws corrected ; We want to live, and not as one detected. The lawyers, property, parental wills, Created and perpetuate the ills ; So maidens, must be maids, be barren, that, A wealthy few, indulge their selfish fat. Such barrenness will soon destroy the breed, And leave the so-called canaille to succeed. Now trust a woman for a new idea ! Short-sighted, bhnd, how feel you — rather queer ? * ' ' John's Uncle " pamphlets. (Hotten. ) 64 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! It never struck you that you must efface Your own defence, by avaricious race. Where are your kindred, where your arrows, when A trodden foe shall show them stalwart men ? Your kindred is your foe ; yourselves have emptied Your quivers, plunder can't remain exempted ; For nature makes necessity, and it — In turn makes courage, then, the biter's bit. Pray, who will rally to your coward call ? Pray, who will fight that you should pocket all ? Pray, who will fight that bliss should only be The wage of money, married pedigree ? Now here's another ball : a grand set out To honour titles' right to growing stout. What use to me, and many others too Who like myself must only live to rue ? The badielors and maids should pull together! For both are murdered by a common tether ; In our class at least, it's our fault If numbers cannot force oppression halt. As marriage is a weapon of offence AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 65 We must have laws as measures of defence ; So let us join, array our line of battle ! My boots : the club, I'm off to sound the rattle. Boudoir of Belle No. VI., (a Countess.) My childhood : blissful state : what visions crowned My girlish innocence, with happy years Completing time, and honeying the seconds That the hours should dandle in an ecstacy Of wakeful joy, then dally with the darkness In content, that he was near ; and that his spirit Guardian of the night, but mingled with my own To be, more perfect in the harmony of soul Each day a symphony of love : the more intense With each recurring dawn. The cleaving souls More perfect as they clave, should swell in love. Each hour surprising hour with new affections. Springing afresh from out the well of time. No surfeit of our loves should ever cloy. But strengthening hope should twine around the promise Of the months to fill our trinity of love. 66 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i What mother's joy should link each coming heart ! What power of love in unison with all Producing loving-kindness in the babe Should bear a Christus that a sinful world Should hear again the blessings of its God ! No selfish love should cheat that other soul Nor mine ; but we in sympathy with right Would love as spirit unto spirit to its God Whose universal laws and principles should rule Our inmost souls : the bodies bowing but As hallowed sepulchres, a temporary home. Ah ! dream of youth ! ah cruel waking age ! What ghastly grins at dashed to pieces hope ! And yet how name, this skeleton despair ? Such happiness were possible ! How then the failure ? Ah, life, reality has vanished in a sham ! Myself a countess, rich can but exist ! Commanding all society I've none ! My life's an utter blank. I die a maid ! And why ? because the natural man is dead, Was crucified because he'd be a king. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 67 The curse for murder groans from all the earth, And I must writhe in loneliness nor find A kindred spirit to my own because The fiends of hell have framed the laws for man. Short-sighted greed has slain the living law ; The Word as flesh ; the monarch of his time. Let such appear again with fitness in his palm ; Again the scoundrel Pharisees, and ruffian Scribes Would do him to the death, for honest law Makes all oppressors tremble to the core. The artificial hounds of vanity and avarice ! The fellest bane of man : no Adam's vice. The natural man was moral, worshipped God ! But now, each crawling worm must deify himself; Must be as heavy as his gold : no more. Position, monied, must be test of God ! No poor man's brains can gladden all with law ! First desecrate the genius, then deny Its right to revelation : dub each blockhead, Each grasping torturer of law ; dub such The genius, then deny it to a Christ. 68 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND n Or further still, extol immoral rogues, To genuises then cry immoral genius ! Immoral genius ! oh, Almighty God What havoc's made of the Almighty word. Immoral genius ! quite impossible ; for genius Deals with the truth alone, for all the law Must stand or fall by justice from on high. Justice is not of man, except revealed : Let genius make the laws ; it must be just ! The genius and the just man are the same. The genius and the Adam are the same ! But creviced, cornered intellect of greed, The soulless talent of acquiring apes, The majesty of God's eternal law. The soulless creatures starting from themselves, A human drop, and that a foul one see No further than the muddy circle of its fall. Their drop expediency must govern all The troubled ocean's round. The sea of men Must tumble that they may float along at ease. Convenience their morality must mean AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 69 Immoral inconvenience to totality. This is immoral, that's immoral too And why? because it cannot suit the few.' Thus cornered, creviced talent such as Plato's'f Can only value age in its potatoes ; Instead of seeing that mankind must fit The never changing laws which rule us all, Such aping geniuses would cramp necessity ; Would cramp necessity, as if deriding God They thought necessity a bubble or Some bladder-swollen toy for them to prick Reducing it at leisure : and thus the fools, The talent — moles have toyed at life ; Have set them up this status as a God, Conveniences of which must judge the moral ! And such a status ! such a crush of statuses ! Myself a status, titled creature ; goddess I suppose ! What fool ? what fool ? what first especial fool Gave titles unto women ? what wondrous genius ? * Plato's Republic is the absurdity or selfishness of senility. The arguments on justice are utterly false reasoning. 70 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I Once more, my glass, once more behold the Countess ! And now avaunt, thou bane of my existence ! Countess no more, no more shall title paralyze ! We live as dead : our paralytic punishment for vice ; For vanity which deadens all the conscience Shuts us from our kind : this title tortures, And as a cage puts bars around the flutterer within. The millions surely must possess a man, In all respects the equal of myself; Developed from the grosser manhood. In outward form with skin as fine as mine ; AVith hair as silken and as glossy ! For titles were but accidents at best : And such a man, possessing soul would be The dream of childhood, vision of my life. But lost, lost : all is lost by bars as such ; My title paralyzing sympathy, my narrow sphere Confined to visionary breeding, none revere ; And wisely too, for nature's noblemen and births Are clearly made of very different earths. Now here's a ball : will nature fill the room ? AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 7 1 No, no : I feel its artificial womb ! I shudder at the birth, at what I've been ! A strutting puppet, insolence unseen But felt the keener as the pulseless glance Would barely see the ashen cheek, but gloat In studied artlessness of ease. This ball is not for me. I loathe my life. I loathe this constant agony of strife. We're bound and bled : the very poets flee ; Then woman save thyself or cease to be. \Exit to Club. Boudoir of Belle No. Seven. Intelligent and beautiful, blooming and rich, I might as well be poor and in the ditch ; For happiness appears a mystery, not real : While dragging death must mourn a life's ideal. I've danced until I'm sick ; the reigning beauty, I'm worn to death by fashion's changing duty. A shadow-science ' twaddles ' novel, all. Must sort itself within a head that's small. And worse and worse, I'm drawing-roomed confined. 72 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! To gorgeous dunces, pedants without mind. My ears are stunned perpetually by quotation, My would-be charmers, cram in desperation. I'm hunted down and every where I meet — Expectant sameness, manners, faces, feet : I loathe the artificial hoUowness of all. And here's another stupid tiring Ball ; As reigning belle I bear a lot of hits— But find the source is vanity not wits. I notice some whose vanity a mania, Must have its fling no matter how they pain you. Again I notice such have keen disgust — If either suddenly deceives their trust. They think it nerve : I notice such delight — In repartee, while others shun the fight ; And well I know and honour nerve of moral — That chooses silence to untruthful quarrel ; The smart rejoinder rises to the lips. But one suppresses what the other slips. Still all such things are petty, when compared With matters sapping life, which must be bared AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 73 By sheer necessity ; time's unearthing spade — That delves to hidden springs, so overlayed With artificial rottenness the sight, Unearthed, appals the trembler with affright. Thus Mammon startles Mammon, as uprooting — Displays a load of vice beyond computing ; And then we see the Christus offering life. Refused by sufferers terrified at strife. Thus all must die and groan away existence, Because a few have power and persistence. Morality is choked — ^not even known — So thickly have the weeds of Mammon grown. A false morality is palmed on all, To suit a ton, a pedigree and Hall. No single tenet's understood and writers — Confound confusion ; e'en ordained to blight us. Each virtue's made a vice, each vice a virtue ; You try them both, and find that both will hurt you. The virtue fails because it's made a crime ; And vice because it's vice in any clime : Still in a worldly sense you may be vicious, 5 74 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Nor fear a sting if wise and not malicious ; This very wise has lost its heavenly sense, And under Mammon means a hid offence ! Thus everything is lumped, they generalize. Each thinks himself Solon in disguise. They've lost all power of thought, because their greed Demands the question answered to their need. They bid the world be moral, cannot see — The fruit must be as rotten as the tree. They seize the means of life, unjustly keep them ; Then say you're quite immoral, if you'd reap them. Why even education is denied ! O England, wake ; know shadow-science lied : They say the earth's a globe ! no pancake's flatter ! The Bible writers told them ; but, no matter, The worshippers of self can surely shape — Their earlh to suit : make protoplasm, ape ; FroiTi ape produce the man ; then show progression — Means science backed by title and possession. What ! man the image of his God ! why science — Has made a globe ! then surely mere appliance. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 75 The man, already made will next decide — How great is self with science for its guide ? The earth a globe ? can rivers run up hill ? The Thames or Mersey ? nay, the winding rill That turns upon its source, would have to flow — Both up and down, whichever way it go. What earth a globe? the needle then at South, Must point through keel, and earth, from steersman's mouth. What earth a globe ? revolving ? then the light From any star would never meet the sight. Immediately it struck us spinning, pace, Would whirl it past for darkness to efface. # « # # * Senility, senility ! what have you done ? Why, played the very mischief with the sun j SeniUty, hereditary title's power. Has proved disgrace is Mammon-worship's dower. At last a judgment from on High exposes — That vice reclines wherever Mammon dozes. The race of God-despisers now shall see 5—2 76 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! The end of false position and degree. Twas false position, buoying false ideas, Has held us up a mark for lasting jeers. When ever power is falsely placed, it must — At length decay, and crumble into dust. Position had no right, and now has none. For were it power, a greater says have done. I would that power say have done to more — \^^ho stultify morality and law. I would some Christ would write a book distinctly. Defining right as what we feel instinctly. And furthermore, I would some Christ had power— For none but he can justly mete the dower : Till when morality remains a vision, A weapon for the wealthy man's provision. Morality embraces life, complying — \\\\h lasting [irinciples, and not defying The laws of God, that universal action, "Which was, and is, remains the moral paction. Morality was long before the man ! Its fitness made the universal plan ; AH, HAPP V ENGLAND ! 7 7 The being must conform, has had the power, His passioned-birthright nature's noble dower. But he, the being finding wealth, invented, A human social status, most demented ; And then endeavoured to confine morality, As if himself, much more than all plurality : As if his notion made morality, instead, Of God who made it, and the human head With organs of perception to adore — The moral code that floats around his door. AVhich floats in nature, now a busy bee. And now a flower, now a budding tree ; One simple code commands the life of all. And man must blame departure for his fall. Departure separating man from man. Is foreign to the universal plan ; For man was given a point de appui, morality, But bred to separation as rascality ; And then the villain bred to sin, gave rise To second God, the Devil ; but surprise May cease because the Devil is not a God, 78 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! But simply Adam's image minus God. ^^'e say, that God deserts us : not at all — But we desert and suffer when we fall ; His everlasting laws remain the same : 'Tis we, who choose a heaven or a flame. A\'e breed the Devil, vanity and show, Tlien wonder at our misery here below ; A\'e trample pride, the workman's honour, God, Because the virtue suits not Mammon's rod. The latter loves to plunder, gives a place To what it finds it really can't efface ; So some, the wealthy-little wear the vice. As virtue which the}''ve purchased at a price ; And bowing Mammon lives adoring vanity As part of certain privileged urbanity. But God-like pride, the working man's possession Is most presumptuous : punished in profession. By Devils who mistake the haughtiness of place, Of power, breed ; for pride the heaven's grace. Misnomers such as family-pride, instead Oi family-vanity, aid to turn the head. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 79 Now pride is that which toils, and cleans the hand, While vanity, scorning labour must be fanned. This wretched ball is but a useless show. I'll stay at home, and let the others go. I hate the married mischief-makers, we The maids should form our own society ; Insist on life, on liberty and law : I'll seek the Club and have a quiet jaw. {Exit to Club.) ACT IV. Poet's Villa. A BOOK, sir, and the servant said his master Was lately ill, or it had come the faster. \Exit PACE. A book, what may it be ? why mille tonnerre ! My own returned by Miss de Sigh or pere. A card in explanation, P. T. 0. A message too, a very dry one so : " The sender must have been mistaken, for His name is quite unknown at our door.'' Enter the fiend of air. Ha, ha, he's further off than ever now ! My little inch can torture him ; his vow AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Will never win De Sigh, who sees offence In what was justifiable defence : Romantic showed the man of honour, who Prefers to test the character he'd woo. Enter poet. Ah, Happy England ! here's a state of hfe ! What wondrous roads to travel for a wife ; Why would you make acquaintance with a she ? Then you must wander years to know the he ; The proper he, perhaps a crowd of he's ; And meanwhile some one else devours the cheese- She marries wrongly, miserably, bates You after running gamely through your weights. The consequence is wretchedness to both ! But happy England ! snobdom must have growth. Now I, a poet working night and day Have not a moment for the snobbish way Of creeping through existence ; and I thought A book as good as introduced at Court. Again I hoped to find heroic brains 82 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! In sympathy with form, heroic veins. The test has shown the worth — but true there lies A great excuse, they're foreigners, these Sighs. It makes a difference, yet Italians ought To know the world is but the Poet's court. I'll try them hers in happy England, ha ! \Rings the bell. Extend the test to English Pa and Ma. This list was left by Vere, they're surely rich ! \Chib list of one hundred and three members. I'd choose the gracious if I knew the which ; \_Enter page. But as it is, the post must act as guide ! Allot the chances, flow the poet's tide. Some hundred names ; a book for each but three. Erasure guard, a friends' and lovers' plea. \_Scraiches out three names. Present this order, post the books, address To maids alone ; enclose a card — express. Scene II. — page. A goodly pile of books, but let me see AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 83 Some message surely should improve the spree ; Not even compliments adorn the page ! Some sentiment should surely show his age ! " To a magnificent and adorable creature !" Ah, that's the style. I think that that will reach her Inmost vitals, cockles of the heart, and show His vigorous youth is fired, ah, just so. [ Writes. * # # * * To deliciousness itself in form and feature ! Now if she isn't handsome, this will teach her How different she is in other eyes Than those of self — a moral in disguise. [ Writes. * * # * To every charm of womanhood and youth ! She'll surely recognise it as the truth ; Especially if accident ordain That age can leave no traces on the vain. [ Writes. ***** 84 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND / To nothing short of feminine perfection ! That's capital, and only wants direction ! O post, O post, I pray you to dehver This special page to one who has a liver. ( Writes. t » » * * To one of noble aspirations as of face ! Most excellent : it surely wins some grace ! My inspiration halts for further balm, So repetition be a further charm. And now to post, but let me see addresses ! The club of course; they're members and time presses. Delivery will save the post : expense Is far too much already for the sense. Scene III. — Labies' Club. FIRST MAID. Well, Flora, darling, how are you to-day ? This ball's to be the gayest of the gay ; What costume will your inward beauty grace ? It need be peerless, would it match your face. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 85 SECOND MAID. Your compliments are kind, but Mary would Be less than Mary, were they else than good ; But really, now you ask about this ball I'm quite in temper not to go at all ! FIRST MAID. Not go, my darling ; what's the matter, why ? And why these tears ? you really should not cry ! Come, tell your Mary, something has upset My own, my sweetest, fondest little pet. SECOND MAID. There's nothing wrong, except that I am weary Of mere existence ; shadows ever dreary, Ever growing darker, flit before me ; And weigh me, down, indeed, indeed they awe me. For twenty years I've lived a laughing maid, But now a sudden earnestness has made Me loathe the future, tremble for the time, I yet must live subservient unto crime. 86 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! Society exists for murder, I Am tortured with the anguish of a cry- That rings my ears, you help to slay the poor, Your time will come, you'll wake but to endure. Ah, now I see it, Mary, we're but tools To cut ourselves, preserve the world for fools, Who gad about, and reign supreme through laws, Some thousand years have sho\vn are full of flaws. One, Moses, leader of a petty crowd Made laws which population disavowed Before the time of Christ ; that Adam who — Was slain to show the world is for a few. But population, being eternal, tests — What laws are just, and what but bitter jests. Now government is but the law applied ; And law should be from principles not tied To murderous interests suited to a few, Eternity is better than a Jew. Eternal principles should test the law. This niaiTiage by permission shows a flaw, In that it fails eternally to suit AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! 87 Increasing all : eternity's pursuit. Our legislators think eternal life Win halt for them to legalize a wife. The aim of God to populate the earth Must halt until they legalize the birth ; And consequently stigmas are invented In hopes the aim of God may be prevented. No balls for me, enough of murder ; I, Will live for vengeance ! be revenged or die. THIRD MAID. And so say I, I've come here full of rage. My youth has all been murdered for their age. FOURTH MAID. And I agree ; let's all agree. CHORUS. We all agree, we all agree, we're confiscated, life Is thrown away, forbidden, law, prevents us being wife; We're confiscated, confiscated that the grasping few 88 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND 1 May hoard their wealth, live on by stealth, and style the false the true I We're confiscated, confiscated that the land remain Untilled, and mined by plunderers a source of private gain. We're confiscated, confiscated by a stigma which Is pure invention, nothing but convenience for the rich. We want to live, we want to live, we want the laws as Adam Discovered them to suit the all, when first he named his Madam. FOURTH MAID. Well sung, well sung, but we to be a power Must have a Queen — I name the Countess Howard. CHORUS. We choose the Countess, choose the Countess, come and be our Queen To frame us laws, and fight our wars, society has been. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 89 COUNTESS. My mlling subjects, gladly will I reign, But Countess me no more, no more that title Shall insult my life with empty seeming. Eliza Howard walks a woman free ; From this day forth, let no one Countess me. As Queen of our endeavours I will reign ; But as Eliza share the humblest pain. Let all retire and meet again at nine ; 'Tis time to read our letters and to dine. But after dinner, we attired as men Will go and beard the Commons in their den. \Meeting breaks up for letters, dinner, d^r. FIRST MAID. \At dinner — rule of Club, each lady dines by herself. A book ; the testament most surely from its size. Yet no, the cover's blue ; 'tis some surprise. Romantic, here's a card ; some smitten swain ! 6 90 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I A stranger's, ah, I really must complain — Papa, my friend, not I, shall go and greet you. \Reads. To a magnificent and adorable creature ! To a magnificent and adorable creature ! ! To a magnificent and adorable creature ! ! ! Well, really I must pause, consider this ; They'll think it soup : why, dear me, there is Miss \Gives book a kiss. De Plouden and the others quizzing, surely, They can't have seen, I did it so demurely. Well hide ! magnificent, adorable am I ! \Slips book into bosom. It may be true, if s Adam-like : I'll cry. [ Weeps. SECOND MAID. A book ! how very small, what can it be ? The cover's blue, a present and for me ! A card, a strange one, I must tell papa : Impertinence indeed may go too far. \_Reads. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 91 To deliciousness itself in form and feature ! To deliciousness itself in form and feature ! ! To deliciousness itself in form and feature ! ! ! How very strange, romantic; well I greet you — They'll think it soup : why, dear me, there is Miss Fitzgerald and the others quizzing, surely They can't have seen, I did it so demurely ! \_Slips book into bosom. Lay there ! deliciousness itself am I ! How Adam-like, it may be true : I'll cry. \Weeps. THIRD MAID. A charming little book, how very small ! A card, a stranger's ! Ah, I'll really call Papa's attention, this is much too bad, Impertinent, unheard of — must be mad. {Reads. To every charm of womanhood and youth ! To every charm of womanhood and youth ! ! To every charm of womanhood and youth ! ! ! How very odd, I'm sure it must be truth. 6—2 92 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! They'll think it soup : why, dear, there is Miss \Gives book a kiss. Hollingshead and others quizzing, surely They can't have seen, I did it so demurely. \_Slips book into bosom. Now rest you : every charm of womanhood am I. How natural, I feel it's true : I'll cry. [ JVeeps; ail the rest weep. Enter Countess. What now my children crying ? Mary, Flora, Susanna, Margaret, Deborah, and Norah ! I never saw the like : come, dry your eyes ! I ba\-e some news, which may be a surprise ' The Bachelors have also had a meeting, And named a King, the poet Ralph De Sweeting. All voiees. \\\\o ? who ? Countess. Sir Ralph De Sweeting, I presume a stranger ! But just the man, I know, for present danger ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 93 In fact a man more like a God, so holy ; Myself have sworn obedience to him wholly ! FIRST MAID. And so do I. {Aside.) Why, that's the name ! CHORUS. And so do I, and so do I, and so we all acclaim, Then hail the poet, hail the poet, hail the poet-king. Hail the holy, hail the poet, hail the holy king. ACT v.— SCENE I. Meeting of Bachelors. first bachelor. I SHALL not attend 1 SECOND BACHELOR. Nor I, frivolity has wasted all my life ! THIRD BACHELOR. True the married world just look on us as ninepins, To their pleasure. FOURTH BACHELOR. I've fetched and carried all my life, Received but kicks, and now I'll join the strife. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND t 95 FIFTH BACHELOR. Well said, we Bachelors form the world ! SIXTH BACHELOR. In truth we must have laws ; these married drones In idleness usurp the workers' thrones. 'Tis time the Bachelors take the field. I'll fight for death or victory never yield. They play at living, form their social views As best enables them to pick and choose. The principles of life are all derided And though not gelt, we should be, that's decided 1 SEVENTH BACHELOR. Ah, true enough, their moral tenets are To murder us with parson ban and bar. Society's a sword, that reeks with blood ; Its daggers, introductions, or the mud. All chance of marriage is suppressed, and then We're branded fornicators, wicked men : In fact we're ordered not to live at all. But just as puppets useful at a Ball. 96 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! CHORUS. We've done with balls, we've done with balls, with dancing and with flunkies. We're earnest men, we'll have our rights ; are sick of ruling-monkeys. We're confiscated, confiscated, that ^'oracious frogs May croak about, and drown us in their rotten social bogs. We're confiscated, confiscated, that the few may plunder The means of life, then sneer at us^ remind us we are under. "W^e choose to be above for once, remain there just as long As we shall find contention prove, the youthful are the strong. Luxurious ease is not the stuff to govern or to fight ; Age-coffined ^vrong can never stand before the youth- ful right. Then rally all the young and brave, we'll fight for law and wife. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 97 With reason if they'll let us, but, if not then with the knife. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, God's anointed one, Then hail the poet, hail the poet, Britain's Holy one. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, inspired from above. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, harbinger of love. Accursed be the rule of self, denying faith in God ! Accursed they who dare deny that Genius is of God ! Then hail the poet, hail the poet, inspired from above ; Then hail the poet, hail the poet, harbinger of love. Enter poet. Time-honoured youth ! Creation's welling spring The clear unsullied brook of leaping honour That bubbles laughingly a babe, to roar The seething torrent of an earnest frenzy — Manhood's holy fire : I greet thee well ! Thine — Thine is the mission of the world ! Thou — Thou art the Saviour of thy kind. What manhood would remain ; what thought exist In reverence to God, except for Thee ? 98 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! But that the babe were ever to the birth ! But that the creature died ; what carrion stank The sacred image of its God ! A foul, polluted, jealous, grasping age, A crawling, sordid, vampire-sucking sloth. Is even now a mockery of God. Lower than the beasts that perish, these Soulless, dishonoured effigies of men Would force yourselves to be as pulseless as themselves, Would make your fulness be an emptiness that they May deem themselves a something seeming man. Nobility and that ethereal spirit. The essence of the man, has long deserted such : Sunk in avarice, sunk in vanity, The mind has lost its eye, its very ear ! They see not, neither will they hear ! Then youth, the youth of want, the youth of toil ; The youth deprived of life, the youth that feels 'Tis yours to reassert the Adam in the man ; But fail but fail yourselves ; you fail to perish : The pestilence, the fire, the ice or flood AH, HAPPY ENGLAND i 99 Shall utterly deface the human blood. Again the Adam will be born again, Yourselves will journey through a world of pain. Let the procession form : the steel of youth Shall wake pot-bellied age with gleaming truth. Scene II. — Door of the House of Commons. KEEPER OF the DOOR. What means this rabble-march ? police ! police ! Arrest these scoundrel-breakers of the peace ! POET. No scoundrel-peace-disturbers, we determine To enter, stand aside or die as vermin. \Fight ensues — -procession gains the house. Scene III. — Mr. Speaker. Who dares this insult to the realm of law ? PREMIER. Who dares this insult to the realm of law ? loo AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! HOUSE. Who dares this insult to the realm of law ? Parrots be still : the realm of law is ours ! The youth of England, challenge age, beware ! Your throats are wizened and our sabres sharp ! Be grateful that ye live ! ourselves are here To force the hearing you yourselves deny. Our present mission peace : beware a second Shall send your soulless carcases to rot ! Think you that in this intellectual march of time Ourselves who know the requisites for evil Will further suffer the stagnant laws, That cradled in your seventy years of sloth. Of God-deriding Mammon ? not so : Your carrion-brains but suit the cowards that ye are. Now hear and tremble : bastardy must cease ! The land must be restored, as also mines ! No further confiscation of the blood. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! loi But plunderers must vomit forth the spoil. Our mandate such ! obey or die the death ! CHORUS OF BACHELORS. {Filing out of the House.') Behold a nation thought at ease; behold a wealthy few, That rule the world, that conquered all, that even shield the Jew : Whose literature adorns the page ; religion builds the church Whose kings and dukes, whose bishops, lords are civilized research. Did Europe dare disturb the peace ? Did Asia want a rod? Behold a king, a duke, a lord, a bishop gives his nod The milKons fill accountants' books, the army, fleet prepare ; The bayonets bristle, breezes whistle canvas through the air. The hostile ships appear to sink, or follow in the train : The armies clash, the Briton cheers, the foe is brave in vain. 102 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! A king, a duke, a bishop, lord opposes in the van : A king, a duke, a bishop, lord is slain as any man. The fleet returns, the country boasts the_ nation must be blest A king, a duke, a bishop, lord can never be oppressed. The fight is won, the pride remains, but how about the cost ! The poor may pay, the poor may starve, what odds the others lost. The fighting nation heads the rest and keeps the com- merce down. The landlords build, they own the soil, in county, city, town. They roll in wealth, barbaric gold ; the nation must be blest. How civilized, how Christianized, how far above the rest? But battles cease, protracted war the glare of clashing steel No longer threat, so commerce spreads, the others catch the zeal! , AH, HAPPY ENGLAND 1 103 But Britain toils, and Britain sweats, its manufacture leads It spins and weaves, it buys the silk; alas it also breeds. There is no room, the others want; the artisan is bought. Nay more the Briton begs him go, says "can I give you ought ?" The artizan replies, " you can, I only want the soil ; I want to build, to populate, to fairly earn my toil." The king, the duke, the bishop, lord reply in bitter wrath, " You want the soil ? it cannot be, you rise above your cloth ; The artist sails, the country fails ; the wretched poor increase. But providence assists and says — buy back the land and lease. Scene III. — Fancy Dress Ball Room. LADY SO-AND-SO TO DUCHESS SO-AND-SO. Your grace, my husband, straightway from the house. Declares the monarchy is threatened ! 104 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I A rebel-band of insignificant bachelors ; Insignificant bachelors, unheard of creatures Have dared insult the majesty of law : And led by one they chose as king, The wild and frenzied poet Ralph de Sweeting They fought, they slew, nay murdered with premeditation The faithful warders of the house : Then dared insult the hidden sanctity within. They swear a universal slaughter of the married ! They claim (unheard of insolence) they claim Repeal of bastardy ! that they indeed And all the wretched maids, may dare to live ! May dare to live ! that privilege of our own ! Strikes it your Grace ? I see no maidens here ! ^^^^y next the saucy sluts will rise ! The ball is at an end, some panic seizes all ! Your Grace, methinks might rally them awhile. \Ent(r BAND OF MAIDS as bachelors by one door. \_Entcr BAND OF BACHELORS by another. COUNTESS, QUEEN OF MAIDS. All hail to him, they name the poet king ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 105 POET. All hail, what now! more willing subjects to our power QUEEN. A most devoted band, myself their leader Our duty was to stop frivolity and beard The Commons in their den : my enterprise It seems is second to your own, the which I just but heard of, and acknowledge thee as king. POET. A worthy and a faithful leader, we Will strive, deserve as honestly of thee. CHORUS OF MAIDS. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, haU the poet-king. Then hail the holy, hail the poet, hail the holy-king. CHORUS OF BACHELORS AND MAIDS. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, hail the poet-king ! MAIDS. — First twenty. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, adorable am I. 7 io6 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND! Second Twenty. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, deliciousness itself ! Third Twenty. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, every charm of youth ! Fourth Twe7ity. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, feminine perfection ! Fifth Twenty. Then hail the poet, hail the poet, noble aspirations ! \Chorus continues. PAGE. Well now, that's what I wrote in master's books. POET. What means this jargon ! hey, sir leader ! AVhat says your band ? come listen : silence all ! They fight, your followers must be drunk ! MARY. He said I was deliciousness : I shall be queen ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 107 FLORA. He said I was deliciousness : I shall be queen ! S^All maids sqtiabble in couples. MARY (with greater energy). He said / was deliciousness : T shall be queen ! FLORA {pale with rage). He said / was deliciousness : / shall be queen. MARY. You lie, you rave, you lie, read ! \Hauls book out of bosom. FLORA. You lie, you rave, you lie, read ! [Hauls book out of bosom. MARY. FLORA. The base deceiver ! [ Violent hysterics. CHORUS {each with book). The base deceiver ! [ Violent hysterics, all fling books at each other's heads. [bachelors depart astonished. 7—2- io8 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! SAD SO-AND-SO. Oh what escape, your grace, 'tis ever so ! These rebels fight among themselves ! [Picks up a book. What means this book ? 'tis Sweeting's poems. \reads. " To deliciousness itself in form and feature !" These surely are the maids as bachelors. This Sweeting has deceived them — each should be his queen. [Enter police. Arrest these youths and lock them up securely ! But, Sergeant, hither {whispers) be careful, they are maids ! O lock them up, but guard against mishap. SERGEANT {to Ms ineii). Arrest these rebels : be gentle, but Secure them firmly, see that none escape Scene V. — Poet's Villa. Enter one paterfamilias. I will be revenged ! I will be revenged ! You shall marry her, sir, you shall marry her ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 109 POET. Excuse me, sir, your name escaped my hearing ! ENRAGED PARENT. My name, sir ! that's right, sir, pretend an ignorance ! Why next, sir, you'll say, you don't know my daughter ! POET. I assure you, sir, I may safely say, I do not know your daughter ! This intrusion, sir, is most unwarrantable ! what claims your daughter ? PARENT. Marriage, sir, by your written bond ! read, sir, read ! POET reads : " To every charm of womanhood and youth." The writing is not mine : you would entrap me, sir ! PARENT. Oh, damned villain ! but you shall not escape ! no AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! POET. To escape, sir, it is necessary to be caught ! But of your daughter, pray, what Hke is she ? This every charm of womanhood and youth. PARENT. I represent my daughter, sir. You shall marry her, sir ! She and the parson wait below, I bring her up, sir ! POET. Oh, well, I'll be represented too. You page. Your coat this moment — pass for me. Engage To marry all. I see a crowd without. Each parent, parson, maid, without a doubt. This writing ? pray how came it in the book ? PAGE. Ah thin, I added it to save the look ! But leave all to me, sir : I shall marry The hundred straight away ;" then pick a Harry ! The richest and the prettiest combined : The rest may be divorced or else confined. AH, HAPPY ENGLANJD ! in Enter parent no. ii. You shall marry her, sir ! you shall marry her, sir ! Villain, recreant, hound : vengeance, sir, vengeance ! PAGE {disguised). Have a cigar, sir, smoke in fashion, sir. 'Twill cool your blood : you seem a smoking-passion, sir; Pray wherefore such unceremonious visit ? A mild D.T. ! perchance a wager, is it ? PARENT NO. II. You shall marry her, sir, my daughter, sir ; You've disgraced her, sir : the poet, I presume ! PAGE. The poet, sir ! Enter parent no. i. daughter, parson, Uiitness. He is not the poet, sir ! the poet, sir. Is going to marry my daughter, sir. 112 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! PARENT NO. II. Going to marry your daughter, sir : never, sir, This is Sir Ralph de Sweeting, the poet, sir : The scoundrel has disgraced my daughter, sir, listen, \_Shows book and reads. To every charm of womanhood and youth ! [Daughter no. I. snatches away book. That's what he wrote to me. The book is mine. PARENT NO. I. Impostor, sir ! how dare you steal the book ! My daughter, sir, marries Sir Ralph ; But this cannot be he. DAUGHTER. 'Tis he, father, (whispers) if you hesitate. This robbing monster brings his daughter too ! 'Tis he, I feel assured. PARENT NO. I. 'Tis not the one that was ! AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 113 PAGE. I am Sir Ralph : your daughter suits me, sir, Your memory must fade ; I spoke with you before ! PARENT NO. II. I go to fetch my daughter, sir : S^Exit. PARENT NO. I. He spoke with me before, it must be him ! DAUGHTER. 'Tis he : I saw him in the throng last night ; Now bid the parson marry us at once 1 PARSON. If marriage be the object of this visit, 1 pray you all attend ! The business has been wisely simplified ! Such numbers forced us abdicate the service. Your signatures before myself and witness. Suffice to bind you man and wife. 114 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! PAGE. The law is surely novel ! whence the speed ? PARSON. The instant your rebellion left the house, And brought in force at once : a panic-measure To deny that marriage is impeded. PARENT. Then sign, Sir Ralph, be honourable a man. Enter parent no. hi. Now Fanny, now Mr. Witness, now myself. The thing is done : all hail my lady daughter ! PAGE. Most worthy parent, gladly so say I, ( Whispers aside) London Tavern, sharp seven, Wednesday. [Exeunt. AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 115 PARENT NO. III. 'Tis very odd, what do these people here ? Sir Ralph de Sweeting. PAGE. Sir! PARENT NO. III. Scoundrel, my daughter is an injured woman : You shall marry her, sir ! PAGE. Delighted, sir ! PARENT.no. III. Ah, honourable man, honourable man, honourable man ! I fetch her instantly ! Enter parent no. ii., daughter, parson, witness. Here is my daughter, sir : you marry her, sir ; On the spot, sir, I swore it, on the spot : Every father would have sworn it on the spot, sir. 1 1 6 AH, HAPP V ENGLAND ! PAGE. So it seems, ho, ho, ho, he, he, he, ha, ha, ha ! PARENT NO. III. How say you, Sir Sweeting ? PAGE. Ho, ho, ho, he, he, he, marriage, ho, ho, ho, But be, ho, ho, quick : I'm composing, he. Enter Housemaid, disguised as page. My master is now in a composing ecstacy. PAGE. Ho, ho, ho, he, he, he, ha, ha, ha. Housemaid. The poet can now only sign ! your business, gentlemen? PARSON. Signature before myself and witness suffices law : AH, HAPPY ENGLAND ! 117 PARENT NO. JI. Sign, my daughter, Sir Ralph, Sir witness, sign ! PAGE. He, he, he, a worthy parent, ho, ho, ho. ( Whispers aside) Din, he, he, London, ho, ho, tavern, ha, ha, Wednesday, Ho, ho, he, he, ha, ha ! seven, ho, ho, sharp ! \Exeunt. Page marries the remainder. SCENE VI. London Tavern, at Door of Reception Room. MANAGER. And still they come ! I tremble for the house ! Some thousands must be here, the rooms are crammed. The garrets filled, the very roof is crowned. Such crush has forced them to the summit ! The staircase threats to break : no more, no more ! What can it mean ? 'tis eight, and yet no host ! ii8 AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I Sir Ralph de Sweeting, must in ecstacy I fear ! They say, he's badly taken that way sometimes ! Principal Reception Room. PARENT NO. I. suddenly sees parent no. ii. My lady daughter, Lady Ralph de Sweeting ! See yonder that odious man, whose daughter No doubt it was that stole your precious book, What does he here ? I think I'll turn him out. parent no. II. My lady daughter ! Lady Ralph de Sweeting ! Behold that odious man, whose daughter Insolently snatched your precious book ! What does he here ? I think I'll turn him out. parent no. I. parent no. II. What ho, the manager directly ! parent no. eighty, parent no. ninety-seven. A\'ho calls ? who dares give orders here ? AH, HAPPY ENGLAND I 119 Chorus of PARENTS. Who calls ? who dares give orders here ? Chorus of opposing parents. What mean you, sir? /represent Sir Ralph ! Enter manager. ^Vho is the Lady Ralph de Sweeting ? Chorus of a hundred ladies. I am the Lady Ralph de Sweeting ! Chorus of opposing parents. Turn him out ! turn him out ! Chorus of a hundred ladies surrounding manager. Turn her out ! turn her out ! I am Lady Ralph de Sweeting ! Chorus of a hundred parsons, each pointing to his LADY. I married her, she is Lady Ralph de Sweeting ! 1 20 AH I HAPPY ENGLAND I Chorus of WITNESSES each pointing to his lady. I married her, she is Lady Ralph de Sweeting. GRAND TABLEAUX VIVANTS. All fathers fight desperately ! All mothers fight desperately ! All Ladies Ralph fight very desperately ! All parsons fight desperately ! All witnesses fight desperately ! Invited members of families bore the dinner promis- cuously. MANAGER IS TORN TO PIECES BY LADIES RALPH. THE END. JOHN CAMDEN MOTTEN, PRINTER, PICCADILLY, LONDOK. VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. Special List for 1871. •3* Note.— /re order to ensure the correct, delivery of the actual Works or Particular Editions specified in this List. Ike name of the Publisher thould be distmct y given. Stamps or a Post-Office Order may be remitted direct to the Publisher, who will forward per return. Charles Dickens— The Story of his Life. By the Author of ■• Tne Life of Thackeray." Tnis day, price 78. 6d.. with numerous Portraits and Illustrations, 370 pp. Dicient^l Summer House. "Anecdotes seem to have poured in upon the author from all quarters. • * • Turn where we will through these 370 pleaaant pages, something worth reading is sure to meet the eye." — T/ie Siantiard. -lb. Another Edition. Uniform with The " CHARLES DICKENS EDITION," and (orming a supplementary volume to that favourite issue, crimson cloth, 3s. 6d. Artemns Ward, Complete. The Works of Charles Farrer Browne, better known as "Aetemus Ward," now fikst COLLECTED. Crown 8vo, with fine portrait, facsimile of hand- writing, &o., S40 pages, cloth neat 7s. 6d. *^* Comprises all that the humorist has written in England or America. Admirers of poor Artemus Ward will be glad to possess his writings in a com- plete form. John Camden Hotten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W. i VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. The Secret Out; or, One Thousand Tricks with Cards, and other Recreations ; with EatertainlDg Experiments in Dcawing-Koom or " White Magic." By Gustave Feikell, Professor of the Art for twenty-five years- With 300 engravings, orown 8vo, cloth, 4s. 6(1. To make tlu Pass „• A perfect Cydopasdia of Legerdemain. Under the title of " Le Magicisn des 8alons," it ha-s Jong been a standard Muf^ic book with all French and German Professors of the Art. The tricks are described so carefully, with engravings to illustrate them, that anybody can easUy learn how to perform them. Art of Amusing (The). A Collection of Graceful Arts, Games, Tricks, Puzzles, and Charades, intended to Amuse Everybody, and enable all to amase everybody else. By Frank Bellkw. With nearly 300 Illuatrations. Crown 8vo, 49. 6d. *^f* One of the most entertaining handbooks for the amusement of Society ever published. John Camden Hotten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W. VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. Earthward Pilgrimage (The). By Moncure D. Con- way, the emiueui Unitarian Minister, and friena of Emerson. Crovrn 8vn, 400 pa^es. cloth, neat, 7s. 6d. *»* This volume kas excited considerable diBCUSsion, as it advances many entirely new views upon the life hereafter. The titles to some of the chapters will con- vey an idea of the contents of the work: :— " How I left the world to come for that which is." Dickens's Speeches, Literary and Social. Now first collected. With Chapters on "Charles Dickens as a Letter Writer, Poet, and Public Reader." This day, price 7a. 6d., with fine Portrait by Count D'Oraay, 370 pages. *»* " His capital speeches. Every one of them reads like a page of ' Pick- wick.'"— TAe Critic. " His speeches are as good as any of his printed writings." — The Times. —lb. Uniform with The " CHARLES DICKENS EDITION," and formins; a supplementary volume to that favourite issue, crimson cloth, ■^i. 6d. Cheap edition, -without portrait, in paper wrapper. 28. Madge and the Fairy Content. A Charming Child's Story. By BLiNCHARD Jerrold. Intended to inculcate a Spirit of Contentment. With nearly 100 Piotnres of the Industry requisite to produce the Christmas Pnddiog. 49. 6d. A Third Supply of Yankee Drolleries, comprising the best retipnt Works of American Humorists. A. Ward's Fenians; Mark Twain ; Autocrat Breakfast Tablw ; Bret Hartb ; Innocents Abroad With an Introduction hy George AuGiisrna Sala, Crown 8vo. 700 paces, cloth extra, 3'. 61. ♦,* An entirely new gathering of Transatlantic humour. Fourteen thousand copies have been sold of the 1st and 2nd aeries. John Camden Hciten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W. 3 VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. The Conscript. A Story of the French and Ger- man War ot 1813. Translated from the French of MM. Ebckmann- Chateian. Fcap.. is. *,* An authorized and unmutilated popular edition of this now famous work. The tcanslations, hitherto published in this country and in America, can ha regarded as little more than abridgments. Napoleon III., The Man of his Time: Part I.— The Story of the Life of Napoleon IIL, as told by Jas. W. Haswell. Part II.— The Same Story, as told by the Populab Caricatures of the past 25 years. Crown 8to, 400 pages, 79. 6i. •»* The object of this Work is to give both sides of the Story. The Artist has gone over the entire ground of Continental and English Caricatures for the last quarter of a century, and a very interesting book is the result. Bismarck, the Great German Statesman. The Story OF HIS Career, told for Popular Reading. By Mr. Geo. Bullen, of the British Museum. Fcap., n. •»• An admirable account of the "Man of Blood andiron;" giving numerous very characteristic anecdotes. Echoes from the French Poets. An Anthology from Baudelaire, Alfred de Musset, T.amartise, Victor Hugo, A. Chenier T. Gautifr, Beranger, Nadaud, Dupont, Parny, and others. Bv Harry Curwen. Fcap. 8»o, cloth, 58. ; half-morocco, 6s. " A pleasant little volume of translations from modem French poets." — Graphic, Aug. 20, 1870. 4 John Camden Hoiten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W, VHRY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. NEW SOCIETY B OOK, By the Anthor of "Puniana." Gajnosagammon; or, Advice to Parties about to ConDubialize. Bj the Hon. Hngh Bovley, With nameroas exquisite and fanoifal designs from his pencil. Small 4to, gieen and gold, 6s. Three years since it waa announced under the title of " Advice to TartieB about to Marry." Country-House Charades, for Acting, By Captain E. C. Nugent. With Illnstrations by W. K. Snow. Small 4to, green and gold, 63. *,* An entirely new "book of Household Amuseraents. An Appendix gives the various Songs set to Music for accompaniment upon the Pianoforte. Cruikshank's Comic Almanack. A nine years' gathermg of the Best Humour, the Wittiest Sayings, the Drollest Quips, and the Best Things of Thackekat, Hood, Mayhew, Albert Smith, A'Beckett, Bobert Brough. With nearly one thousand Woodcuts and Steel Eogravings by the inimitable Cruikshane, HiBE, Landells. Crown 8to, 600 pp., 7s. 6d. John Camden, Hotten, 74 Iume of travels. ciate truej|\-it an^l humuur will be well satislicd with " The I. carters who appre- Iniieeeiits Aliroad." The Luck of Roaring Camp, and other Stories. By Bret Harte. Crown 8vo, toned paper, 3s. 6d. ; a paper edition, is. *»* The Work of a new candidate to literary honour. The Publisher of a book is not perhaps always the most unbiassed person to give an opinion about it ; but in the present instance the writer has no hesitation in saying that English readers wih be charmed with these inimitable stories of strange'life in the Far West— away on the Pacific slope. The fun, the very humour of the thing, has a May freshness about it, which smacks not of the Old "World. Champagne : its History, Manufacture, Properties, &o. By Charles Tovet, Author of " Wine and Wine Countries," "British and Foreign Spirits," &o. Crown 8f0, with numerous illus- trations, 54. %* A practical work, by one of the largest champagne merchants in London. Acrostics. An Entirely New and Original Work, constituting the FIFTH SERIES of the popular A. E. H. Acrostics. 12110, cloth elegant, 49. 6d. %• The authoress is a lady of high position in the North of England, and her books are very popular amongst the best Families in the couotry. John Camden Sotlen, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W, 9 VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. Midsummer Eve, a Fairy Tale of love. By Mrs. S. C. Hall. New Edition, los. 6d. Elegantly bound, gilt edges, pro- fusely illustrated by Sir Noel Paton, Maolise, Kenny Meadows, Hine, and other eminent artists. TEE STANDAKD EDITION. Robinson Crusoe, Profusely Illustrated by Ernest Griset. Edited, with a New Account of the Origin of Kobinson Crusoe, by William Lee, Esii. Cru«Ti 8vo, 73. 6d. fe-*» •*• This edition deserves special attention, from the fact that it i§ the only correct one that has ieen printed since the time of Defoe. By the kindness of Mr. Lee a copy of the rare and valuable original, in 3 vols., was deposited with the printers during the progress of the work, and all those alterations and blunders which have been discovered in every recent edition are in this case avoided. There is no living artist better adapted to the task of illustrating Crusoe than Ernest Grriset. Fables of Aisop. With Illustrations by Henry L. Stephens. 4to, with 56 fuU-page inimitable designs by this Artist. Cloth and gold, gUt edges, 353. *«* Id artiBtic circIcB the very highoat praise haa been accorded to the above designs. The Eiosicrucians ; their Kites and Mysteries. With Chapters on the Ancient Fire- and Serpent-Worshippers, and E3q)lana- tions of the Mystic Symbols represented in the Monuments and Tahsmana of the Primeval Philosophers. By Eaegeate Jinninqs. Crorni 8vo, 316 wood engravings, 103. 6d. John Qa/mden Sotten, 74 cmd 75, Piccadilly, W, 3 VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. More Yankee Drolleries. A Second Series of cele- brated Works by the best American Humorists. Aetbmus Ward's Travels ; Hans Breitmann ; Professor at the Breakpast-Table •, BlGLOW Papers, Part. IT. ; Josh Billings. With an Introduction by George Augustus Sala. Crown 8vo, 700 pages, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. *«* An entirely new gathering of Transatlantle hamour. Twelve tlioosand coplee of tile Firit series have been sold. UNIFORM WITH DB. SYNTAX. Life in London; or, the Say and Nigbt Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn and Corinthian Tom. Crown 8vo. WITH TEE WHOLE OF CRUIKSHANK'S VERY DROLL ILLUSTRATIONS, IN COLOURS, AFTER THE ORIGnfALS. Cloth extra, 73. 6d Tom and J. ♦♦« One of the most popular boolcs ever iBSuod. It was an immonBe favourite wltii George IV., and as a picture of London life 50 years ago was often quoted by Tliaclieroy, wlio devotes one of his " Roundabout Papers" to a description of it. Clean socond-lianU copies of this worit always realise from ^1 to £2. Fierce Egan's " Finish" to "Life In and Out of London," 8vo, cloth extra, WITH spirited Coloured Illustrations BY Cruikshank, 1 8a. *#* ThiaUtha quaint original edition of one of the most amttsing pictures of London life ever written. ^ ,i . , A'p^ly to Mr. Rotten direct /or this work. Fine Old Hunting Books, with Coloured Flates. MR. JOBROCICS JAUNTS AND JOLLITIES. LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JACK MYTTON. ANALYSIS OF THE HUNTING FIELD. LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. BY NIMROD. Apply to Mr. HoUen direct for these hooles. John Camden Hotten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W. VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. IMary Hollis ; a Biomance of the days of Charles II. and William Prince of Orange, from the Dntcli of H. J. Schimmel, "the Sir Walter Scott of Holland." 3 vols, crown 8vo, £1 us. 6d. ♦** This novel relates to one of the most Interesting periods of oar history. It has created th© greatest excitement on the Continent, where it quicitly passed through several editions. It is now translated from the Dutch with the assistance of the author. UNIFORM WITH DOCTOR SYNTAX. Wonderful Characters. Memoirs and Anecdotes of Remarkable and Eccentric Persons of Every Age and Nation. From the text of Henry Wilson and James Caulfield. Svo. Sixty-one FULL-PAGE Engravings op Extraordinary Persons. 73. 6d. *** One of the cheapeat and most amn^ine books ever published. There are so many curious matters discussed in this volume, that any |ier>ion wlio takes it up will not readily lay it do\%n. The iTdioduction IS almoit entirely devoted to a consideration of Pig~faced Ladies, and the various atorie* eoncemiiig them- Artemus Ward in London. Including his well-known Letters to "Punch.'' Square i6rao, is. 6d. j cloth, 2s. *t* An entirely new TOlume of Wit and Fun by the famous humorist, aad one which is sure to become popular. NEW BOOK ON THE LONDON PARKS. Taking the Air ; or, the Story of our London Parks. By Jacob Larwood. With numerous illustrations. Vol. I., Hyde Park; Vol. II., St. James's Park, The Green Park, and Mary Bone Gardens. Price i8s. the two volumes. *+* This is a now and most interesting wnrlt, pivinp a complete History of these favourite out-of^ Ao->r resorts, from tlio earliest period to the iiresuiit time. Tlie fashions, the promenades, tlie ride*, the reviews and other diaplavs in tlio parlts fioni tlio merry days of Charles 11. down to tho ])reseiit airings in Rotten-row and drives "around ihe ring," are all fully given, togetlier with the exploits of bold highwaymen and the duels of rival lovers, and other appellants to the Code of Honour. John Camden Hotten, 74 and 75, Ficcadilly^ W. 5 v:ery important new books. POPULAH EDITION" OF MR. DISRAELI'S SPEECHES. Disraeli's (The Kight Hon. B.) Speeches on the Con- stitutional Policy of the Last 30 Years. Royal i©no, is. 4d. j in cloth, IS. lod. *#* Selected and edited,* with the approval of the late Tirst Minister of the Crown, by J. F. BuUoy, Esq. The text is mainly founded on a curefol comparison of the Timeg ncwapniier and Haitsard's Debates, as corrected by Mr. Disraeli, and of which the publislier has obtained special licence to avail himaolf. ArtemiLs Ward's Lectiire at the Egyptian Hall, with the Panorama, 6s. Edited by T. "W. Robertson (Author of " Caste," "Ours," "Society," &c.), and E. P. Kingston. Small 4to, ei-qui- sitely printed green and gold, with numerous tinted illustrations, price 6s. " Mr. Hotten has conceived the happy idea of printing Artemus Ward's * Lecture' in such a way as to afford the reader an accurate notion of the emphasis, by-play, &c., with which it was delivered. We have no hesita- tion in saying that Mr. Hotten has almost restored the great hunjorist to the llesh." — Daily Telegrwpt,. " The tomahawk fell from our hands as wo roared with lauehtor — the pipe of peace slipped from between our lips as our eyes filled with tearsi Laughter for Ariemus'a wit — tears for hie untimely death I This book is a record of both. Those wlto never saw Artemus in the flesh, let them read of him in the spirit"— romuAa toft. " It actually reproduces Ward's Lecture, which was brimful of flrst-class wit and hiunour." — —Daily News. " It keeps yon in fits of laughter." — Leader. "One of the choice and curious volumes for the issue of which Mr. Hotten has become famooa."— City Press. " The Lecture is not alone droll ; it is full of information."— Examiner. "It adds one to the books of genuine fun we have got."— Sundaij Times. Kedding's (Cyrus) Personal Reminiscences of Emi- nent Men. Thick cr. Svo, three vols., 5s. complete. *** Full of amusing stories of eminent Litero/ry and other Celebrities of the present century. The worlc is a fund of a/necdote. Apply to Mr. Hotten direct /or this work. John Camden Hotten, 74 cmd 75, Piccadilly, W. VERY IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS. NEW SERIES OF ILLUSTRATED RUilOROUS NOVELS. 1. The Story of a Honeymoon. By Chas. H. Eoss and Ambrose Claeke. With numerous Illuatrations. Crown 8vo, olotU gilt, 6s. •#• An {nimlttible story of the adventures an3 troubles of a nawly-married couple. Not unlike Mr. Bul'nand's " Happy Thoughts," 2. Cent, per Cent. A Story written upon a Bill Stamp. By Blanchaed Jeeeold. With numerous coloured Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 63. UR. HOSS, IN THE DISCOUNTINO USE. •** A capital novel, "intended not only for City readers, but for all {ntereat«d tn money mailers." — ALhcnauin, The Genial Showman ; or, Adventures with Artemns Waed, and the Story of his Life, z vols., crown 8vo, illustrated by BeUNTON, 218. • ** Tliia is a moat interesting work. It gives Sketches of Show-Life In the Par West, on th« Pacific Coast, among the Mines of California, in Salt Lake City, and across tile Rocky Mountains i including chapters descriptive of Artemus Ward's visit to England. John Oojmden Hotten, 74 and 75, Piccadilly, W. THE CRUISE OF 'THE KATE.' [rum cz'er. [n One Volutne, crown Zvo. with Eleven Illustrations Engraved on Wood, price ts. cloth^ THE Cruise of 'The Kate' EMPSON EDWARD MIDDLETON, Author of ' The First Two Books of the Aeneia of Virgil, in Rhymed Verss. PROSPECTUS. In this volume, which is dedicated to the Author's Sister after whom his YACHT was named, tlie Author has related the incidents of a voyage from the Thames to the Thames in a boat of which he formed the crew. Among the ports visited were Southampton, Dartmouth, iVIilford, Kings- town, Leith, and Bridlington ; and the vessel in which the Writer made his way to these places is twenty-one feet in length along the keel, twenty-three feet along the deck, and seven feet in beam, the model being, in nautical language, ' round,' and so perfect that the water is felt everywhere. The engravings have been powerfully and very artistically drawn by Capt. May, R.N., and very well cut by Mr. G. Pearson, of Bolt Court, Fleet Street, and have been toned down below the actual fact : for instance, the sea at the Lizard was not a ripple — the boat in cross- ing to Ireland was thrown to starboard, not to port as shown, &c. &c. The Cruise of the Ka te. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Start. II. From Ramsgate to Southampton. III. From Southampton to Dartmouth. IV. From Dartmouth to St. Ives. V. From St. Ives to New Quay. VI. On Harbours of Refuge. VII. From New Quay to Boscastle. VIII. From Boscastle to Milford. -IX. From Milford to Kingstovra. X. From Kingstown to Leith. XI. From Leith to Bridlington. XII. From Bridlington to Southwold. XIII. From Southwold to the Thames. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ' The Kate ' at the Lizard. Chart. ' The Kate ' in mid-channel between Milford and Wexford. Struck by a cross sea at the change of tide. ' The Kate,' when struck crossing the sand. , ' The Kate, ' on the edge of a wave precipice. VIGNETTES. The Bell-buoy. Russian lamp, cooking-place, and well, &c. The dingy pulling through the surf. The crew of ' The Kate ' aloft, hooking on peak halyard-block, . &c. ' The Kate ' at anchor in the Thames, off the Maplin. Gale of wind. Time, about 6 P. M. 'The Kate' at anchor in the Thames. Night, pitch dark. Vessels' lights in all directions. Time, midnight. The Cruise of the Kate. NOTICES of the PRESS ON THE CRUISE of the KATE. ' We have abstained from making any further extracts from the " Cruise of the Kate," because we would not anticipate the pleasure of the reader.' Naval and Military Gazette. ' This is just the kind of book which will be read with avidity by yachtsmen and those who delight in reading the records of a perilous adventure. The book is nicely produced.' Bell's Life in London. ' The result of his lonely cruise makes one of the freshest and most natural books we have read for some time. ' SonTHAMPTON Observer, 'The "Cruise of the Kate" will be read by many with great interest. To a gentleman cruising round the coast the book will be invaluable as giving minute details of the tides and rocks which surround our island ; and to them, as well as to others, we cordially recommend it. ' TAe Field. ' One thing we much admire in Mr. Middleton's book is, that it eschews all exaggeration. We strongly recommend iMo all who take an interest in a pleasing narrative of persiiii.vi adventure.' Land and Water. London : LONGMANS, GREEN, and CO. Paternoster Row. S^ottiswoode dfi Co. , Printers, New-street Square, London. MIDDLETON'S VIRGIL. The P3ST EOUB BOOKS, m cloth, 12s. MtdBleton's ViKSii appeals directly xo painters. It abounds in subjects for great paintings. It appeals to the -whole poetical world. Middleton's Fourth Book appeals directly fo every living wbman. The First Four Books form a complete poem of Ihemselves, containing the siege of Troy and the magnificent Tragedy of Dido's love^ disappointment and death. The Second Book is peculiarly suitable to the present time of warfare. Past translations call for a remark, or the reader might wonder why a fresh, and apparently highly priced, translation is offered. No past translation conveys more than a shadow of Virgil. Translation is a transposition and intensi.lcation of ideas from one language to another — and not a mere trans- posing of words. MIDDLETON'S VIRGIL. BOOKS I. and II. in cloth, 6b. BOOK I. EneiDS to the queen^the wondering braves Behold the man Eneias from the waves 1 * O thou whose tears alone bedewed the slain Of murdered Troy ; its fled, their travelled pain. "Whose walls would guard, whose homes protect the few •i^hat fled the Greeks, that aufiered, want and sue Nor we nor all the Trojans on the earth Can render thanks deserving of thy worth. The gods shall pay the recompense we owe, If gods regard the good, if justice flow From any foimt ; if any mind exist Where honour knows of what it must consist, ■WTiat joyful age, what noble parents thine ! Your honour, name, majestic fame shaU. twine Around my heart, wherever it shall be. Shall glad the rivers as they run to sea ; And every cloud that shades the mountain-sides Shall tell the sun, and every star besides.* He spake, and clasps the chief, Screstus and Cloanthus, Gyas, each heroic hand. BOOK II. One Bhout commandB ; the echo hauls the horse, Beseeches Pallas' smile upon its course. Wo breach our walls and homes. All work, some ply The rollers others ropes. It mounts on high, A womb of death. The boys and virgins shout Their sacred songs, and join the hauling rout. The horse advances, gains the city's fort, A huge awe-'spiring mass of murder's thought. My country I Troy I home of gods I thou wall "Whose stedfast brow consoled the dying fall, To whom the patriot turned each tortured eye, Addressed his prayer : " I sink, but though defy I *' The monster trod, bnt fear prolonged the tread, Each foot a pause, a tremble for the dead. Each start a groan — as if the murdering steel Would own remorse ; repent and rather kneel. But we press on, nor give the sound a thought. Our madness plants the foe within the fort. Cassandra gees ; foretells as gods inspire ; But custom sneers, derides the frantic crier. We deck the shrines with laurel boughs, nor know Each branch a grave, each leaf a hidden foe. The twilight ushers night, the shades increase, Conceal the world, the treachery of Greece. We sleep. The foe returns. The wooden horse (Unbarred by Siuon,) yields a murderous force. Thersander, Sthenelus, Ulysses seize The rope as Athamas, Thoas, next these The_chief Machaon, Pyrrhus, Menelaus, Epeus who built on purpose to betray us. They storm the town when wine and sleep oppress. The sentries fall. The gates admit success. Exulting Greeks unite. Time's grateful hour Was soothing care with first sleep's heavenly po u or : And Hector sought my dreams — a sea of tears Disgraced and dragged, the gory dust besmears The swollen feet are bound. Alas what woe! How changed from him who laid Patroclus low Or fired Grecian ships : whose beard and hair Were bloody with the many wounds he baxe. Responsive pity sheds responsive tears. ' Tongue weeps the very accent that reveres. O thou who warmed the brilliant beams of Jove, Who cheered the heart, who steeled the blood that strove : What other fainting children claimed thy fire, Detained thy conquering arm, our wept desire? What rush of courage wakes onr weary souls At sight of thee, when death itself patroles I But why these gory locks, and whither fled Thy stedfast eye, thy firm assuring tread ? What mean these starts, these wounds? haste or they Will speak, the lips— are itching for their say ! No answer heeds. Groans rend each gaping gash. Speech splits the thought, as thunder jaggs the flash. " goddess-bom, escape the flames, the foe ! Troy falls a mighty mass ! The patriot's blow Is struck. Could mortal arms have held the wall ? My own had grown to stone. Troy leaves thee all. Collect and guard her rites and gods and build Across the tiring sea, where fates have willed." He spake and brought the everlasting fije, Great Vesta's image and her priest's attire. BOOK III. Iambic Verse. First 40 lines. Olympian wrath, had blasted Asia's power, Our gniltless race, protid Ilium's every tower. And Neptune's Troy was black with death, its smoke A sacred pall for hearts that bled and broke. We exiles seek a home as gods decree, Equip a fleet where Ida slopes to sea. Our forces marshal under heaven's banner Prepared to start where gods might shower the manna. The summer dupes were wooing brilliant spring. My Sire commands : sails how to fate their King, My noble country fades from longing eyes. We bear our gods, though mighty ones chastise. The Thracians own Idonia's martial soil Where fierce Lycurgus reaped the million's toil. Its ancient friendship, hospitable fare Had ever welcomed Troy : I anchor there. My city winds the shore : its name Eneia Should grace my own, but fate continues dire. I worship Venus and my guardian gods, A bullock dies that Jove may bless the sods. Some cornel trees and spear-Kke myrtle crowned A neighbouring hill : I root from out the ground A lea^ bough to deck the shrines but sight la terror-struck— fresh wonders seek the light. Uprooted fibres beat a bloody pulse I The ruptured, writhing, skinless veins convulse In fearful agony distilling gore : The bloody fountain torrents to the shore. My rattling bones attest each bloody jet. My heart congeals with fright ; again I threat To rend the limber bough, enquire the cause. But blood again distils from out the pores. My brain is whirled with thought, and reverence bends My trembling frame, and stutters as ascends To rural nymphs, to Mars, that they renew The omens, give some favourable clue. I seize the boughs and struggle on my knees. My shrinking bones must snap or muscles ease ! But shall I speak, or grind my crashing jaws ? Groans rend the air, a voice explains the cause. BOOK IV. Thejirst 54 lines. Each accent but vibrated in a heart To wi'ing its cords ; each cord a brand to dart Love's burning lava, colouring every vein, Each sight and thought to pallour it in pain. 'Hhe Tlrtues of the hero and his face Eecur unbidden for his features trace A portrait on her heart, while space but rings One sound alone — the cadence of the kings. Unhappy Dido paces here and there. No soothing slumber banishes her care. The dawn had chased the humid shades of night. The glowing eun was spreading warmth and light, ■When thus the Queen : ' Sister Anna such Distracting thoughts have grasped me in their clutch. This guest 1 what think you ? courtesy his mien I A hero too, such terror has he seen I eyen thirJi:, nor groundless my belief. Some goddess miKt have bom such mighty chief : For fear is human. Ah how scourged by fate^ "What lasting toils ! were not the marriage state Impossible since death has mocked my vows (Aversion but remaining for a spouse) This one reduction might have stirred my breast. I own that since Sichceus died, this guesb — Alone has touched my heart, relit its fire ; I recognise the burning of desire. O earth in pity split, and hide me, or Jove hurl me down to Erebus before , This craving lust insult each purer thought Or rend the garment chastity has wrought. My heart is in remembrance, let it bleed For him who wed — my love his only creed. The trickling tear but stole to kiss the sigh, And catch the murmur love may never die.' Her Sister thus : ' O life were naught without Thy soft caiess, thy faith beyond a doubt. "Why mourn for ever, waste your youth nor know A mother's love, the all entrancing flow? Can you suppose the dead regard your vows ? What though your grief refused each willing spouse In Tyre or here— Tarbas and the Lords Of Africa, why spurn if love accords ? Do friends or foes surround ? fierce Getulil Invincible Numidians! deserts lie On this land while on that Barcreans scour The barren plain : escape is but by war. Why name your Brother's threats ? this fleet appears As sent by gods, or Juno's special fears. Consider Sister how this match would lay A lasting base for firm imperial sway. Exhort the gods I be hospitable, let Your latent charms entangle as a net While hurricanes and storms contest the main, His aliips are shattered, frost pursues the rain.* Spoliiswoode £ Co., Printers, Neic-street Square, London,