J THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES I SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. DEDICATED TO ANTHONY TROLLOPE. HENRY O'NEIL, A.R.A. LONDON : CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 1870. CT£Z THE FIEST DIALOGUE. BETWEEN A PAINTER AND AN AUTHOR. Painter. Old Horace tells us, in his Satire One, Wkate'er may be men's station, there are none Content with their own lot ; but fain would be Just what they are not — and 'tis so with me. Single, I envy those who have a wife ; — Town-prisoned, all who lead a country life ; — Painting I deem a trifling art at best, But think all Poets and Musicians blest ; — Lastly, I'm poor, and covet wealth, — but, there. I fancy most men that same feeling share. Author. My friend, you're out of sorts. At any rate, No man of sense should grumble at las state, E 885770 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. But make the best of it, whate'er it be. And really, after all, I cannot see What you have got to rail at. Let us take Your wretched plaints in order. If you make Your single life a grievance, why not wed ? Painter. At my age ? — Nay, 'twere better to be dead, Than to entrap some silly, thoughtless Miss, Without a prospect of domestic bliss ; For that depends — except through wildest chance- On parity of age and ignorance. Author. There you speak sense. But still you need not miss A method to obtaiu connubial bliss ; Nor fear the fate that lights on those old fools Who wed their angels fresh from boarding-schools, To find, in the unfledged and artless wife, A very devil for the rest of life. Just take a widow. Painter. Nay, you surely joke. W T hat comfort could result from such a yoke ? FIRST DIALOGUE. AUTHOE. And yet, though my advice you would disparage. Some men, with widows, make a happy marriage. What is there in your nature to prevent Your getting a like measure of content ? Painter. Ah ! if the late-lamented had heen hung, I might be happy ; but if not, her tongue From morn to night incessantly would wag ; Of her late husband's virtues she would brag, To my discredit. Nay, I'm not so stupid As let a widow change me to a Cupid. Author. 'Tis vain to give advice to those who pish Each offer. Yet, if you sincerely wish Your single for a wedded lot to barter, Without appearing as a fool or martyr, One more I'll make you — 'tis the last I can, sir, So condescend to reason ere you answer. There still is left this great resource for you,— I know some old maids, and with money too. Painter. Ye gods and little fishes ! am I fit Each evening at a parlour fire to sit SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. And read aloud from Tupper's dreary pages, Or list to tattle about servants' wages, Whilst watching busy hands knit endless twist ? No, no ; I'd rather play at pool or whist. Then, as to money, though I don't disparage The value of that article in marriage, Yet he who weds a girl without a penny Is happier, ay, and wealthier too, than any Of those mean dolts who take a wife because Her property will save him from the jaws Of poverty, and, if such lot can please, Grant him a life of idleness and ease. Authob. In much that you have said I coincide ; A husband should be, and therein feel pride, The " keeper " of his wife, and not the " kept.'' Still your objections I cannot accept As any proof of your sincere desire To change your state ; nay, you provoke mine ire. Girl, widow, old maid — each in turn I proffer For your acceptance, and you spurn the offer ! You talk of parity of ignorance And age, or — what is more uncertain — chance, As wholly needful for domestic bliss. I know a thing more needful, and 'tis this — FIRST DIALOGUE. A willing heart; with that you're free to wed At any time of life, so you be led, In making choice, rather by common sense Than by those feelings which most influence The heart in its selection, when youth throws Over the future its "couleur de rose." But on this point I have no more to say, A wilful man must gang his wilful way. And though you grumble at your single state, You're scarcely worthy of a better fate. I clearly see that marriage is a lot Too good for such as you. Now, as to what You say of country life, I won't deny That blue, than black, looks better in a sky ; In spring and summer rural life is cheery, But in the winter months a trifle dreary. And then, I own it is a thousand pities, I envy all my friends who dwell in cities, "Who have their clubs and social parties, where They get sweet pleasure though they breathe foul air. So, weighing all these things, I can't perceive How of a town life you can justly grieve. Painter. Through verdant fields my way I'd rather wend. Than pass by stuccoed villas without end ; SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Or wander, thoughtfully, in shady lanes, Than rub my nose against the sunlit panes Of photographic shops, where one may gaze On likenesses of people who amaze The world by what they do or say, to win A moment's fame by virtue or by sin. For mortals of their favours are not nice, And show such little disrespect for vice, That bishops pale before those creatures who, Wicked themselves, make others wicked too. And when I call to mind the constant noise Of German bands and organs, or of boys Who won't permit you on your way to get Without an Echo or Pali Mull Gazette, — And think, moreover, on the insecurity Of lives or purses, and the foul impurity Of mud and manners which besets a city, — My resolution you may praise or pity, In Mull or Orkney I would rather spend My days than live in London, without end. But my objections to a " town life " rest On matters far more weighty — at the best, It's too exciting and unhealthy. When Do you get up ? Author. At five. FIRST DIALOGUE. Painter. And I at ten. Even then I'm loth to quit my snug warm quarter. Would that the nights were longer, and days shorter ! Author. Such lazy hahits can't be healthy. When Go you to bed ? Painter. At five. Author. And I at ten. The laws of health there's little use in scorning. What makes you shun your pillow till the morning ? Painter. The night is fittest time for contemplation And mental work — the day for observation. If I have any writing to get through, I do it after midnight — Avhen do vou ? *£>■■ Author. At sunrise. Even were your judgment right, There's a long interval 'twixt day and night ; SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Why not employ the evening, you old Turk, At what you're pleased to call your mental work ? Painter. Man was not born to sit or mope alone ; A social chat improves the moral tone. So, having but a dog to speak to, I Rush forth to find companions elsewhere. Why Be member of a Club, if not to use it ? Author. The privilege is pleasant, — don't abuse it. How many lose of glory the effulgence By yielding to the voice of Self-indulgence; And, all forgetful of the power of Art, Place less reliance on the head than heart. Far wiser they who, in each earthly dealing, Pay more respect to reason than to feeling ; Nor stop, in temper purposeless and lazy, To gather on their path each trifling daisy, But, looking neither to the left or right, March straightway to the goal — Painter. 'Tis out of sight ; And when you reach it, possibly no flower Is left to gather, or, still worse, the hour FIRST DIALOGUE. Has coine when even roses bloom in vain. Give me the daisies — slight though be my gain. Author. They wither as you pluck them. Ay, and though The withered treasures on the ground you throw, The very breath which your life's spirit buoys Bears the light ashes Of long-buried joys Far, far before you, till your path is strewed With muck from which no daisy can obtrude : And at each step you take you but exhume An immortelle — "sans couleur ou parfum." On to the Future march with pace incessant, Nor dally with the pleasures of the Present. As for your practice — like a prowling Ursa — Of turning night to day, and vice versa, Such conduct in a mortal is surprising. You know the proverb about early rising ? Painter. Who places faith in proverbs ? surely, friend, They contradict each other without end. Author. It may be so. But still you can't deny, If life be such a blessing, then to lie io SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. In bed till noon, however great the pleasure, Is not the way to profit by the treasure. I have no wish to prate about myself, But I have works enough, piled on the shelf, To last three years at least, and strive to keep Thus ever in advance. Were I to sleep Till ten, as you do, where should I be now ? To my advice pray listen, — anyhow, 'Tis kindly meant. Before it strikes eleven, Just toddle to your bed, and rise at seven. Trust me, no logic can this maxim shirk, The early morning is the time for work. But whilst, my friend, your habits are so lazy, — I might ev'n say, unnatural and crazy, — And till you get sufficient common sense, Above all other things, to reverence Your Lares and Penates, and delight in Pursuits and pleasures which — though less exciting Than those you follow — are at least more pure And less destructive to the health, I'm sure, However much you seem to envy those Who far from town enjoy a calm repose, You're no more fit to lead a country life, You grumbling Painter, than to have a wife. Painter. In that you possibly are right. But, pray, What have you on my third complaint to say ? FIRST DIALOGUE. il Author. Both poets and musicians you would deem, Than painters, worthier of the world's esteem. Yet painting is a noble art, I trow. Painter. No doubt of it ; but yet a trifle slow. What takes a painter six months to express, A bard performs in six days, more or less. Tis true, the language of the first is strong, Beyond comparison, to that of song ; But yet a painter's fame depends, you'll find, More on the strength of eye than that of mind. I grant you, in the palmy days of Art — When Raffaelle lived — that painting could impart Some worthy food the human soul to feed, And minister to nature's highest need. We've other wishes now, and laugh to scorn The glorious subjects which the past adorn. Not only trivial is the painter's theme, The lower it may sink he wins esteem ; And reaps more praise and payment in addition, Than ever fell to Raffaelle or to Titian, So that he has the fortune to possess The friendship of a writer " on the Press." For men, in this respect, are just like sheep — Their reason and intelligence asleep, 12 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. They blindly follow any one who shows Courage enough to lead them by the nose. And in audacity, and reckless dare, What animals with critics can compare ? In every art they think themselves more clever Than those who've followed the pursuit for ever, And tell us what to censure or to flatter, As if they knew a curse about the matter. They say, forsooth, that painting should not tell A story, but should be a vehicle For form and colour, and should influence The mind by simply tickling of the sense. Ye blessed shades of mighty painters ! how I envy the dark age you dwelt in : now — In spite of freedom — we are forced alone To work by others' rushlights, not our own ; And, from responsibility quite freed, Our duty is to follow, not to lead. Alas ! we have a multitude of preachers, In painting, the self-constituted teachers. How blest the days of Titian to our own ! Then the art-critic was a god unknown. Author. What art without its drawbacks ? I don't paint, But think you're scarcely just in your complaint. To spurn one's trade is only fit for fools, — Good workmen never quarrel with their tools. FIRST DIALOGUE. 13 Think you my metier is without its evils ? Have we not publishers, and printers' devils, Who, by the malice of a fiend possest, Won't leave their wretched slaves a moment's rest ? As for your scorn of critics : — How, my friend, To dwell on such things can you condescend ? It ill becomes a painter or a poet, However fierce and just his wrath, to show it. When you have gained the public ear or eye, Such literary wasps you should defy, Nor let your peace be ruffled by their sting ; For as to crushing them to death, the thing Is quite impossible, nor wisely meant. Critics, like wasps, were sent with good intent, — iEsthetic scavengers, 'tis theirs to sweep The road of Art, and clean its pathways keep. Painter. And yet, what's worthy I have oft seen made Food for their brooms. Authoe. Good God ! why that's their trade. Nor is their conduct, after all, amazing. Think you that they could live by simply praising What everybody likes, or by denouncing What everybody hates ? Without some bouncing, 14 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. How 'ruongst the minnows could they sport as Triton. Or hide their ignorance of what they write on ? I don't uphold their calling : spite of fudge On Art — a painter is the fittest judge; For if we follow what the critics say, — Not one, but all, — we're sure to go astray. Painter. I could forgive their speech, howe'er uncouth, Would they but condescend to speak the truth ; Nor let their hate or friendship interfere To make their judgments more or less severe. AuraoR. If you dislike their insolence and freedom, Surely there's no necessity to read 'em. Painter. I never do so. Thank you for the hint. As boy, I loved to see my name in print ; But now, my brethren's verdict, I confess, Has far more influence than the public Press. Author. Well, to an end your wretched plaints arc brought; As for the last, 'tis scarcely worth a thought. FIRST DIAIOGUE. 15 Painter. Not quite so fast, my friend ; of all the four, Tis just the one which makes me doubly sore. Though doomed within a town to pass his life, One may be happy, — ev'n without a wife, — In painting, gather fame and pleasure too ; But, without money, what's a chap to do ? Author. If men a way to fortune cannot carve, With brains there's no necessity to starve ; So tell me why the riches of your neighbour You covet so '? The remedy is labour. Painter. I'm not so sure of that. From day to day Some men will labour, and with little pay, Whilst others gain as much in one short minute ; So Fashion orders. Is there justice in it ? Author. Time holds, o'er human fame, a sovereign sway ; Years pass, and where's the idol of to-day ? As for the present, earnest labour sure Can yet an ample competence secure, 16 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. To serve all present and all future need ; Beyond that point, desire for wealth is greed — A vice which never can be satisfied Without some loss of self-respect and pride. Painter. 'Tis strange, considering how brief the span Of mortal life, how prone is boastful man To scorn, within his reach, a wished-for prize, Or 'gainst a future ill to shut his eyes. A rich man haggles over every penny, The poor one squanders pounds, not having many. Lo ! Croesus rears a mansion to the sky, But won't dwell in it as the rates are high, And lives unhonoured in a foreign land, To save some pounds, with millions at command ; Whilst Harum-scarum, dunned from day to day, Without the means his creditors to pay, Will spread a banquet of the choicest sort, And treat his friends to " eightecn-twenty " port. What though before him, stern, the future stares '? In present pleasure he forgets his cares, And whistles through life equally as well In a duke's mansion or a debtor's cell. Author. Men ever will abound on earth, I deem, In prudence or in recklessness extreme. FIRST DIALOGUE. 17 Nor less the same phenomena we find In seekers after wealth of other kind. In knowing one thing well some men take pride, Nay, vaunt their ignorance of aught beside, Others would universal knowledge gain, To find, too late, their labour is in vain. Both err alike. If fame thou dearly prizest, A middle course, believe me, is the wisest ; Though other arts the mind's attention share, Let one pursuit absorb your chiefest care. Don't be a Jack-of-all-trades, but of none A master — life is far too short for one. Painteb. You reason sweetly, let me shake your fist, And then you'll join me in a game of whist. Authob. I'm well content ; but promise at eleven You'll go to bed, and rise again at seven. Painteb. I'll promise nothing. Promises are risky At all times. Waiter ! Potass and Scotch Whiskey I THE SECOND DIALOGUE. BETWEEN A PHILOSOPHER AND A MAN OF THE WORLD. Philosopher. Each age is prone to glorify its state, And equally the past to underrate ; But yet, in spite of loudly-echoed vaunts, — The louder, possibly, to hide their wants, — I doubt if men are better now, or wiser, Or happier than they were when Pope and Kaiser Had power supreme o'er consciences and creeds. And freedom was unknown in words or deeds. Men worked and played, they ate, they drank, and slept. And, from the cradle to the grave, so kept The even tenour of their way : nor fell That Providence with them had harshly dealt, Because they had no Telegraph or Star To breed 'twixt social classes endless war, SECOND DIALOGUE. i9 Or tales of virtuous poor and vicious rich, To screAV their heart- strings over "normal" pitch. Man of the World. Still grumbling ! Why more cheerful views not take, And use the present for the present's sake '? I don't ignore the merits of the past, And frankly own our present state is cast Not in perfection's mould. But yet, my friend, With all your prejudice, you won't contend That Science in its progress has not lent Its aid in furtherance of man's content? Philosopher. I doubt, as Scotchmen say, your bold " premeeses." As Science prospers, Energy decreases ; And each invention, whatsoe'er the gain, Produces equal loss in hand and brain. The more machines can do the work of men, You make the latter valueless, and then Creation is a drug. Man of the World. Your argument Is scarcely worth an answer. But anent The question of our progress ; when compared With all the blessings that the past has shared, 20 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. You can't deny, whatever be the cause, — Whether respect for Virtue or for Laws, — This age is far more moral, both in speech And deeds, than those whose worth you loudly preach. Philosopher. In speech, I own it ; that is simply cant, As little to be trusted as the rant Of fierce sectai-ians ; but take your deeds, And then I think you'll own it that the seeds Of Vice are sown and prosper much as ever, In spite of gentle Shaftsbury's endeavour By Acts of Parliament, if not through love, In Virtue's paths all erring souls to shove. What with our betting-shops and Stock Exchange To give a spur to gambling, is it strange That greed for sudden fortune should be brewing A sop which muddles most men to their ruin '? Civilisation, outwardly, I own Does temper, to a great extent, the tone Of social intercourse ; and men, from awe, Will keep within the letter of the law. But if, of crime there now is less revealment, 'Tis not from its suppression, but concealment. One vice, at least, is stronger in our day Than in the past. SECOND DIALOGUE. 21 Man of the World. What's that ? Philosopher. The love of play. Would you see how that vice, above all others, The voice of Pruclenee or of Reason smothers, Go, in their height of season, to the Spa-clen, Or that of Honiburg or of Baden-Baden. From morn to night you find a greedy crowd Burning with lust of gain, and far more proud Through luck their daily sustenance to gain, Than by the product of the hand or brain. And what the prospect '? One may break the bank Whilst Poverty attends the file and rank. And even he who wins — just as the many — Ends in the loss of every single penny. Man of the World. You speak of continental cities, where Man's moral state is not the " crowning care." Such " hells " are not allowed on English soil. Philosopher. Your moral picture I am grieved to spoil ; But yet, the gambling appetite to whet, You need not " trente et quarante " or " roulette." Is there a " hell " more sweeping in its range, Or more destructive, than your Stock Exchange ? SA TIRICAL DIALOGUES. As for the " Turf" — that noble institution Which Britain loves, as France loves revolution — Tis a foul vice from which there's no redemption. And from its fangs no class can claim exemption.. Daily — for Vice ignores a day of rest — All who are with a " love of Sport " possest, From princes down to costermongers, strive Iu conflicts where the basest only thrive, And widely stake both fame and fortune in A wretched game — where blacklegs only win. For this, a duke his fame and fortune stakes, And of his property makes " ducks and drakes," Dragging a noble name, knee-deep, in mud ; 'Whilst money-lenders fatten on his blood, And jockeys, with sharp trainers, and like thieves Obsequious once — soon "laugh within their sleeve Man of the Wokld. If men their order won't respect, how vain Are Names the world's respect to gain ! But granting, for the sake of argument, There is some truth in what you've said anent Our love for gambling, still you must confess That in our sports and pastimes we are less Addicted, whatsoe'er our love of gain, To find our pleasure in another's pain n were our ancestors. SECOND DIALOGUE. 23 Philosopher. "Well, on that matter Your vanity, my friend, I cannot flatter ; Not even civilisation can destroy Those brutish instincts which make men enjoy The sight of danger to a fellow-creature, With prospect of a broken limb or feature. Cruel you deem the sports of bygone times, And some which flourish still in other climes ; But, though such pastimes we put down by law, Others exist as barbarous, which draw An endless stream of fools, of either sex, Hoping those mountebanks may break their necks, Who, high aloft, the treacherous tight-rope tread, And risk their lives to win their daily bread. Nay, when I dwell upon the great success "Which falls on those who, haply, may possess Tom Thumb, the Siamese, and such abortions ; And further when I think how the contortions Of Hippopotamus or Seal can fire Our maids and matrons with a mad desire To welcome novelty in any guise — No matter how repulsive — it defies The wit of those who think this age so chaste, To prove that in refinement or in taste The poor barbarians of the past were swine Compared to those of Eighteen-sixty-nine. SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Man of the World. he just at least. The past may suit your taste, But sure the present age is far more chaste ? Philosopher. Alas ! for chastity, or moral feeling : If we possess them, where is the revealing ? I won^t allude to Schneider or Finette, Or undressed nymphs of the Alhambra. Yet Who, amongst women, are the loudly vaunted ? "Whose beauty most vociferously chanted ? Not they the wise, the chaste, the nobly-born — J'.ut those who, inwardly, should rouse the scorn i >f honest hearts, but yet whose outward mien Is envied, copied — and without a screen. If bold Aspasia, with her golden hair, M ukes all our youngsters to her shrine repair, Our modest virgins dye their dark-brown tresses, To win, from brainless fools, a few caresses. And yet the labour's vain. To whom is paid Most homage ? See — when gorgeously arrayed, Fresh from the banquet, in her opera-box, Half-dressed Aspasia sits — around her flocks A crowd of worshippers, and virgin eyes Are bent on her in envy, not surprise. Ah me I ah me ! it is a sorry sight ! SECOND DIALOGUE. 25 Man of the World. Then why dwell on it ? Philosopher. Man ! 'tis in the light, And all your social varnish won't suffice To hide the hideous seams and scars of vice. Man of the World. Well, let us drop that theme, and, for the present, Indulge in speculations far more pleasant. Look at the power and glory of our nation, Are they not matters for congratulation ? To every land we bear the Gospel's light. The messengers of Freedom and of Right, In every nook or corner of the world, Where there's a footing, have we not unfurled The banner of Free-trade, and sown, broad-cast, The blessed seeds of Knowledge, which at last Will crush the vice of Barbarism, and make The earth a Paradise ? and for this sake The white man's mission. Thus it is decreed. Philosopher. 'Tis not Philanthropy, but simply greed, Which makes you plant your banner of Free-trade Wherever there's a penny to be made. 26 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. You've no respect for other people's feelings So that the end you gain, and in your dealings Honour and Justice have no weight at all. A people you exterminate, and call Yourselves, therein, the humble instruments Of the Creator. Spare your good intents. The savages, of whom you make such clearance, Could pass through life without your interference. In furtherance of joy they little need The aid of your philanthropy or greed : Disease and death are the result of what You term " amelioration " of their lot. With showy flags of peace, to woo consent, And powder, to ensure your heart's content, The lands of peaceful people you invade, To introduce the blessings of Free-trade. Whether you gain your ends by peace or ravage, 'Tis equally disastrous to the savage ; Those who escape from out the battle's din, Soon fall a prey to small-pox, or to gin, And hecatombs, on hecatombs, attest How peaceful your magnanimous behest. For them, at least, far better had it been The European never to have seen. As to your missionaries — their blind zeal Has often made the virtuous Briton feel A doubt if they are, after all, such treasures, — For Abyssinian wars are costly pleasures. SECOND DIALOGUE. So stop the trade, unless you're fond of paying A heavy bill for every paltry slaying. But there's another matter I would mention, As not beneath a worldly man's attention. Methinks 'twere best, before you strive to mend The morals of the savage, just to lend The weight of your activity at home, And you will find there is no need to roam In search of barbarism. So here pursue it To death, — 'twill take you centuries to do it. Man of the World. Well, take the growth of England's population, Is that no service ? Philosopher. Yes, for Emigration. But though in such means some relief we find, It takes the best and leaves the worst behind. So dense the masses in this land of freedom, You have not wherewithal to clothe and feed 'em. Your hardy sons to other lands are going, Whilst gaols and unions fill to overflowing. Man of the World. Men form a nation's wealth, and so that state Which breeds them fastest should be most elate. 28 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Philosopher. A proverb says — the truth, at times, they touch- " Of a good thing, a man may have too much." Ships often sink from overweight of cargo. Methinks 'twere wise to lay a slight embargo On procreation, and confine its sources Within some limits, as you do with horses. For colts, at least, you show far more regard, Nor choose their parents from a knacker's yard. Why not act thus with men — and only let Those people any progeny beget, In whom, with due discretion, you may find Perfection, both of body and of mind ? Man of the World. Discretion ? nay, my friend, you cannot hope With mortal wants successfully to cope. As for the method you suggest whereby To stop of human beings the supply, If evil comes from numbers too increased, It won't be felt for centuries at least ; For though the earth has limits, there are still Miles upon miles to cultivate and fill. Philosopher. But when 'tis full to overflowing, what, Without his elbow-room, will be man's lot? SECOND DIALOGUE. 29 Man of the World. I won't pretend to say what will occur, — Disease, with war and famine, may confer Their usual measure of relief. But why Waste thought on what may happen by-and-by ? So let the present be our occupation. I grant there are some ills in emigration. At home the worthy I should wish to stay, And shunt the vicious off to Botany Bay. But penal settlements, alas ! are over ; For though, in early times, your sturdy rover Would even treat a convict as a neighbour, So that he gained a penny by his labour, When freemen can be found the work to do, He much prefers the latter of the two, Nor likes to see the former " step betwixt The wind and his nobility." I'm fixed — As Yankees say — If men are Radicals When poor, they shun, when rich, their former pals, And prate about their duties, ill or well done, As any Tory in the days of Eldon. And so, until we find some lucky spot Where Vice, secure, in idleness may rot, I fear our convicts must be kept at home. Philosopher. Well — if you did so. But you let them roam Abroad before their sentence has expired. SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Man of the World. Amelioration is the thing desired. Philosopher. You cannot change the nature of a beast : A tiger, caged, is powerless at least. As objects of compassion you select The sons of Crime. Tis well ; but still protect The life and property of those who pay Respect for law, nor let them fall a prey — Through maudlin, weak Philanthropy— to brutes Who, sowing not the seeds, would reap the fruits Of Industry. And how the same increase In magnitude ! The number of police — And yet too few — prove at this very time The swelling force of Poverty and Crime. Such the result of over-population. Man of the World. Still harping on that theme ! Has not our nation Prospered ? In spite of all you say, indeed It has, beyond all question. As for greed — Of which you say at present we are rife — Enjoyment is the proper aim of life. Man toils Id live, and sure his work will find li> due reward, whether of hand or mind, SECOXD DIALOGUE. 31 So that 'tis fashioned to the time and place. 'Tis pleasure that we seek, and in that race He best succeeds who gives. At any rate, Philosophers are rather out of date, — At least, as legislators, and no wonder : Who more than Mill in that, respect could blunder? Philosopher. Yes, from caprice men change their idols daily ; A new-caught fish is, on the morrow, scaly. Eat it at once ; there's wisdom in't, I deem ; 'Tis not what's good or true that wins esteem. The slaves of Fashion, mortals must obey Her mandates, which, omnipotent to-day, Are yet the morrow's scorn. Who but a fool His path in life by such a guide would rule '? Man of the World. It ill becomes philosophers 'gainst Fashion To work themselves into a towering passion ; If fools excite your wrath, 'tis best to house it, For victory is ever theirs who rouse it. A moral glass-house every mortal owns, And there is little use in throwing stones ; Unless, like Pat, you ratber would prefer In ways of warfare than of peace to stir. And even then, so hazardous the game, You'll chance to get more broken bones than fame. 32 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Trust me, at Folly it is best to laugh — Fools smile at anger, but they wince at chaff. Philosopher. Life is too serious to spend in laughter. Man of the World. My growling friend, what are you driving after ? All things created have a waj^ of showing What joy they feel — the cock, in lusty crowing. Pigs grunt at filth, a horse at corn will neigh, And birds will chirrup at the sight of day ; The dog will wag his tail, the cat will purr, But Man, of animals, most sapient sir, Is the sole one who shows, by cachinnation, Of pleasure, mirth, and joy the elevation. And happiness is health, say what you will, Who laughs the most, of life takes longest fill. Men die from too much eating or from quaffing — I never heard of one who died from laughing. Philosopher. Laughter is but the sound of joy, most brief; Even as tears are signs of shortest grief. Man of the World. So be it. I would rather laugh and weep. Than wander in a constant mental sleep, SECOND DIALOGUE. y Dreaming of what might be, when what there is Sumceth for the heart's necessities. Men, upon earth, assuredly were sent, Although imperfect, yet with good intent, The architects of fortune or of ruin, — What ills they get are chiefly their own brewing. There is a duty to perform, which, living, They can perform ; and there's no use in giving Their wisdom or experience to better TheFuture, for it's a forgetful debtor, And feels but little honour in past favours. But grateful is the Present ; if it wavers In its affection, 'tis a venial dealing, — Ev'n marriage can't secure a constant feeling. Both men and women worship novel beauty, And if they do not wander, 'tis from duty. Rail as you will against the present age, We've reason to be thankful. Turn the page Of History, and then our state compare With that of bygone times. Do we not share The utmost freedom ? Are we not more pure In ways political, and more secure In life and property ? I see you smile : Is it from doubt, my friend, or simply bile ? Philosopher. Seek not for honesty in politicians, Justice in lawyers, candour in physicians. D 34 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Each, in his way, pretends those ills to cure Which, bodily or social, we endure. But just as skilful plumbers, in the end, Will make two holes for every one they mend, So those wise chiefs, in curing a disease, Open fresh sores, both when and where they please, Whereby their fame, as lawyers, rulers, leeches, Is much enhanced. And though, in public speeches, They treat all those who differ in their dealing As base impostors in the art of healing, And love- at times uncivil things to say Of one another, yet, in sight of prey, They meet with unanimity well feigned, Nor wrangle whilst there's plunder to be gained. In fine, as benefactors they appear, But trade on Ignorance, or Greed, or Fear, And, in proportion to his folly, make Their fortunes out of man, not for his sake. Talk not of Barbarism! tell me the number Of lawyers who a given state encumber, And I can measure the civilization To which has then attained that very nation. Again, would men be simple in their way Of living, and, in carnal sense, obey Nature's pure needs, the doctor's skill would be Of no advantage, sir, to you or me. Lastly, were men content to rule themselves, [nstead of ruling others, foolish elves, SECOND DIALOGUE. 35 They then might glory in a happy reign, When demagogues, at least, would stump in vain. Man of the World. You talk of Nature's needs. Why Nature gives Ingenious man the freedom, whilst he lives, To gratify his tastes. Therein he shows Sagacity of eye, or ear, or nose. Most beasts prefer their victuals raw ; but Man Prefers to have them well-cooked, if he can. Ev'n sauces and choice pickles evidence His great superiority and sense. I grant you that civilization breeds Some ill as well as good ; but yet its weeds Are fewer than its flowers. Growl as you may, Its blessings far its miseries outweigh. Philosopher. Blessings, forsooth ! I'd like to know, indeed, What they consist of. Man of the World. Well, think of the speed Wherewith we travel, and yet how securely. Philosopher. I grant we travel rapidly. But, surely, 36 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Though railways shunt us swiftly into port, I think security is not their forte ; And fearfully, in moments of disaster, We pay the penalty for going faster. For though, when accidents occur, — which will. In spite of "human progress," happen still, — Cleanly the victims are knocked out of breath, And so spared all the pains of lingering death, I fancy that most men, in any strife, Would rather lose a limb, than part with life. Man of the World. Well, that at least is quite an open question. And just according to a man's digestion Will be his answer ; and I can't deny, To live, ev'n maimed, is better than to die. Then take the Telegraph ; sure that's a blessing The Present should be grateful for possessing ? Philosopher. It has its uses, but it makes us blunder. When men and nations are so far asunder, Twere better to reflect before they act, Else falsehood they will oft accept for fad , And, as the truth there's little time for sifting, Plunge headlong into war, instead of drifting. SECOND DIALOGUE. 37 Man of the World. Although you flout the Present, and deny The benefits which nations gather by The march of " human progress," yet, my friend, You cannot have the folly to defend A state of barbarism. Philosopher. And wherefore not ? I don't see much to envy in a lot You think more civilized. Man of the World. You must concede Tis more enlightened — savages don't read. Think of our public Press ! Philosopher. Well, on that score, 'Twere well if men read less and laboured more. Why, in those times which you are pleased to term So " dark and barbarous," a man was firm Of purpose, and he found in one pursuit His profit and his pleasure ; and the fruit Of what you call his ignorance was yet Contentment, such as now is rarely met. 38 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Nor think that cheerless was his earthly doom, His day of rest was not a day of gloom : And joy, aroused by sunshine and by life, Is gratitude to Him who gave them — rife With holiness, far more than is the prayer Of self-elected saints, who seek to share Heav'n's blessings, not by deeds, but words alone. Of pure Religion theirs is not the tone ; They whine the wail of mendicants, but not The praise of man contented with his lot. Man of the World. But surely, friend, you won't deny our nation Has reaped some blessings from civilization. Let each man strive to better his condition, Collectively, men prosper by ambition, Though roused for selfish ends. »&•■ Philosopher. Unless the aim Be worthy of attainment, who can claim Honour in victory ? Is happiness Reserved for wealth alone, or virtue less Within the reach of all ? Man must, 'tis true, Supply the wants of nature ; but how few Are they to the inordinate desires Of luxury, which ever more requires, SECOND DIALOGUE. y) The more it has — yet, in each acquisition, To find how slight of pleasure the addition. Content, in some guise, knocks at every door. If Dives rattles in a coach and four, Can't Lazarus his path through life pursue, But he must have his drag and horses too ? Man of the World. Surely 'twere better — at the least, more fair — - Could all men equally possess a share Of what the earth produces. Now, I see Just the reverse. Philosopher. And so 'twill always be. Social equality is but the dream Of maudlin sophists, or the angry scream Of Incapacity and Idleness, Boiling with envy at the great success Of other men, but hoping to obtain it Without the brains or industry to gain it. Nature made men unequal, and 'twere hard If wit and folly met the same regard. The love of luxury but enervates Its votaries, and soon eradicates Desires more worthy of fulfilment. When The times were, you say, less enlightened, men 40 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Disdained to shirk their duties ; but, today, They want to labour less and get more pay. For recreation's sake ! One would suppose — From plethora of music-halls and shows- Abortions not least prized — that men were born To have their senses tickled, night and morn. For as to education, that, my friend, Alone is wise and proper which shall tend To make men fitter to obey their call With profit to themselves, and good to all. You vaunt the power of speakers and of writers, Applauding them as " Reason's sturdiest fighters." Their power o'er Ignorance I won't deny ; 'Twere vain to question it ; but, measured by The good or ill they do — and judged alone By the result — why then, I boldly own, Great is the work of ploughmen or of miners To that of demagogues and penny-a-liners. For though, whilst fattening themselves, the food They proffer is with nourishment imbued, Such stuff as Ignorance devours, instils A poison which, at last, the reason kills ; Till discontent, which merges soon on riot, Requires a bitter pill to keep it quiet. A s to the public Press, ill fares the land Wherein the people act at its command ; Press-ridden slaves, of judgment quite bereft, They have no aim, but wander right or left, SECOND DIALOGUE. 41 And swallow whatsoe'er they find in print, Nor question if there's truth or justice in't. Is that a blessing ? Man of the World. Well, it gives us news. Philosopher. Let knowledge of yourself your mind amuse, For curiosity in others' doing Is simply idleness and mental ruin. And yet to giving news I've no objection, Although, in truth, I feel but slight affection For gossip or for tattle, and prefer Those writers who our mental longing stir By something nobler than the twaddling trash " Our Foreign Correspondents " daily hash To suit the taste of their voracious readers. No ; those I war against are the base feeders Of loathsome scandals and atrocious lies. If, as you say, each age its wants supplies, Then low must be the age when such a journal, As one I will not name, can pen infernal Libels to crush a given class or faction, And find a profit in the cowardly action. Man of the World. I quite agree with you that license needs Restraint, to curb its words as well as deeds, 42 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. But for the journal which excites your hate, 'Twill find its proper level, soon or late. Nor is it wise, in dealing with such foes, To seek redress in law-courts or in blows. Publicity is grateful to the vile ; hence They profit more by censure than by silence. So don't encourage them by taking heed Of what they say or do, but let them speed Tbeir downward course. As for the public Press, Its value, as a medium of redress, Cannot be questioned. Whatsoe'er affects Our social comfort can be made a text Whereon to preach most eloquent discourse. And such the magnitude of " moral force," If you of any evil would complain, Write to the Times, — it won't occur again. Philosopher. Too many do so ; yet the inspiration Springs from no wish to benefit the nation, But to appear in print, and, crowning care, Of their existence make the world aware. Take Bright and Forster, who for the perusal Of Whigs and Rads, when vexed at the refusal Of their own club committee to elect A Yankee whom themselves so much respect, SECOND DIALOGUE. 43 Took every method to express, in print, Their sense of indignation, and to hint That they at any time the club could shatter : As if the public cared about the matter, Except the idle, who love tittle-tattle, And find their pleasure in each paltry battle. Man of the World. But they are mighty men, and what they do Or say gives pleasure and a profit too. The words they utter every Briton reads. Philosopher. The more in private should they keep their deeds. Conceit is not a sign that those who show it Are men above the standard, but below it. Man of the World. However eloquently man may preach, 'Tis printing gives existence to his speech. 'Tis vain the mind's necessities to shirk, To feed upon oneself is wretched work. Think you that Shakspeare on the earth was sent For nothing ? or that genius was meant To waste its hidden fire, nor shed a ray Of joyful light on man's too gloomy way ? 44 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Philosopher. A Poet, sure, is scarcely the creation Of what you're pleased to call " civilization." For were it so, then Greece and Piome, I vow, Were far more civilized than England now. Man of the World. It may be so. But genius is a comet Which seldom shines upon the earth ; so, from it, Let's reap the benefit at any rate. Yet Intellect can still accommodate The age it works in, and its wants supply ; And, on that point, you scarcely can deny, (However much the present you abuse), Whether they strive to teach or to amuse, That, in providing intellectual food, Our authors now are plentiful and good. Philosopher. I grant their plenty, but their excellence I still must question, in a general sense. We have, I know, some authors who disdain With low and vulgar thoughts their works to stain. All honour to the few. But for the many, What means will they not use to turn a penny ? To feed, of Folly, the excited brood, They offer stimulants — not wholesome food — SECOND DIALOGUE. 45 And revel in the paths of vice and crime "With an audacity fools call "sublime." The Newgate Calendar is all their Bible. I'm sick of murder, bigamy, and libel, Or scenes in a police-court. Yet I own, Were authors to adopt a serious tone In what they write, 'twere best for them, I fear, Their works to publish in Japan than here. To far a higher pitch, in taste, was strung The age when Plato spoke or Homer sung. Man of the Would. Wholesome the food can't be at which man sickens : Stick to your Plato, I prefer Charles Dickens. Philosopher. Have I said aught against him ? Nay ; I'll give Him, freely, praise and honour whilst I live. Man of the Woeld. Why, then, do you persistently abuse Those who attempt the people to amuse ? Or, on the past still harping, underrate The mental progress we have made of late ? You sceptic ! Think how painters and musicians Flourish at present. Take the exhibitions, The concert-rooms, and theatres. Are they Not full to overflowing every day ? 46 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. In Art the nation takes deep interest — Surely that proves how much it has progrest. Philosopher. If by its painters you would estimate The corresponding greatness of a state, I can't but think how poor is our condition To that of Venice in the days of Titian. Or if you dwell upon the sister Art, Surely the times were brighter when Mozart And — greater still — Beethoven lived, than that Which Verdi, Gounod, Offenbach begat. Nay, if the doctrine which, though far from new, Utilitarians preach, be wholly true, That he alone is worthy who produces At lowest price what's fit for common uses, Frankly, I cannot see why what you call " The Fine Arts," should have any weight at all, Except to pander to the sensual taste Of those whom luxury hath " brought to waste," And who, to stimulate the sense, require More pepper than the healthier desire. Moreover, as regards our social state, Their influence, methinks, you overrate. Some moral may be found, however faint, in A poem ; never, trust me, in a painting. And as for music, is such wretched stuff As now we hear, a work of Art ? SECOND DIALOGUE. 47 Man of the World. Enough. If pleasure be the aim for which we live, Each Art gives pleasure others canuot give. Some men are keen of ear and some of eye ; And if it be a duty to supply Something wherewith to gratify the heart, Who can despise the influence of Art ? Sneer as you will at pleasure, those who most Contribute it have every cause to boast. To keep men happy, and to make them wise, Therein, my friend, the highest wisdom lies. Philosopher. The maxim's good. But yet, I cannot flatter : You neither do the former or the latter. " To keep men happy," you produce excitement ; " To make them wise," you fight. For what is fight meant, Except to conquer ? But — so fierce the hate Of rival bigots in this happy state — Whenever yet the rulers of the nation Have tried to pass a Bill " for Education," No common ground of action could be found, And, 'twixt two stools, it tumbled to the ground. Boast not of boundless wealth ; your moral state — So low, so abject — proves, at any rate, That such avails not to remove the stain Whilst Cant and Prejudice in force remain, 48 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. And they, indeed, are rampant. Toleration Is not the virtue of the British nation. If on the child you cannot force a creed, You think it wrong to teach him — ev'n to read. And hence the vice, the poverty, and crime, Which make you, in a low respect, sublime. " If ignorance be bliss," I'm bound to add, Britons have ample reason to be glad ; And if " 'tis folly to be wise," I feel That they the utmost wisdom will reveal. Man of the World. Well, education, in a sense called " high," Is not in fashion ; yet you can't deny That far more people now can read and write Than in those ages which you think so bright. Kemember also, in your bitter spurning, Learning was made for man, not man for learning ; And education must adapt, indeed, Its course according to his present need. Of authors or of painters why then grumble, That they, it may be in a way more humble, Their avocations for man's good pursue, And give amusement with instruction too ? Philosopiikk. I doubt the latter. SECOXD DIALOGUE. 4 ., Man of the World. Doubt it as you may, It's suited to the temper of the day. Philosopher. But why not elevate it ? Man of the World. Yes, but still You cannot bend it wholly to your will. Though you may deem it too material, This age is eminently practical. And youths have other duties to perform Than round philosophers all day to swarm, And listen to their speculative lore. Philosopher. To wield a cricket-bat, or ply the oar, Is now a youth's ambition. As for learning For learning's sake, he feels but little yearning. When comes the day of trial, he can cram His mind with food which, though not worth a d — n In satisfying future wants, suffices For present purposes, and there the vice is. The system, now looked on as transcendental, Is over-training, physical or mental ; But much I doubt if, in the end, you'll find Such means improve the body or the mind. E 50 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Man of the World. Knowledge, at least, no longer is confined To some few men, whilst all the rest are blind. Of Truth, we strive to open wide the portals, Your tub-philosophers are useless mortals. Philosopher. Granted ; men need not, to proclaim the truth, Grovel in tubs, or deal in speech uncouth ; No more than women, to be pure and chaste, Their lives in convents must be forced to waste ; Or statesmen, to enjoy of power the fruits, Curry the favour of Whitechapel brutes. Philosophy, in spite of worldlings' sneer, To men of wisdom will be ever dear ; And they who listen to its voice Avill find Contentment, both of body and of mind. Man of the World. It's scarcely had the same effect on you ; You're discontented, and unhappy too. Philosopher. I'm not unhappy, sir, nor discontented. Who dares to say so, surely is demented. SECOND DIALOGUE. 51 Man of the Woeld. There, don't be angry, or I shall believe You really are so, and 'twould make me grieve. " Eat, drink, and love," so saith Sardanapalus ; And Byron adds, " What can the rest avail us ? " Philosophy I honour, but 'tis that Which keeps a man from being a poor flat, Who spurns the fruit within his easy reach, And wastes the present in attempts to preach The virtues of the past. My worthy sir, Methinks that I'm the true philosopher. Philosopher. Then, what am I ? Man of the World. That let the future say. Sufficient is the evil for its day. THE THIED DIALOGUE. BETWEEN A LIBERAL AND A CONSERVATIVE. Liberal. What means this sudden gloom upon your brow ? You, once so cheery, why so dismal now ? Has Fortune or a mistress played the jilt ? Alas ! when on such jades men's hopes are built. Conservative. No slave am I to Fortune or to Love; My age and temper render me above Caring for aught those fickle dames may wreak. Of matters, weightier far, I now would speak. A lover of my country, I deplore The ills, for her, the future hath in store. Change and disorder revel, unrestrained — Not so whilst Palmerston on earth remained. THIRD DIALOGUE. 53 Firmly he steered the vessel of the State ; His voice alone had power to moderate The zeal of party-spirit, and prevent The blind activity of discontent. Now, statesmanship is dead ; our rulers vie, Weakly obedient to the vulgar cry, In mad pursuit of change. False and untrue To their own order, they must perish too. Intelligence relinquishes its own, And Ignorance usurps the vacant throne. Liberal. Your fears provoke my mirth. Not thus, of late, You spoke whilst Dizzy held the reins of State. Then, all was sunshine ; dreams of future ill In your glad heart no horror could instil. Why, because Gladstone's up, and Dizzy's down, Indulge in gloomy views, or think the crown In danger '? Freedom's power you can't restrain ; The dream of the Conservative is vain. Your party never yet could recognise The just rights of the people : we, more wise, Our fortunes link with theirs. Why, ev'n our name Is proof that we respect the people's claim ; Whilst yours implies a sturdy resolution To hinder all attempts at distribution Of power. And, but to keep things as they are, Of their just rights the people you would bar. 54 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Conservative. Oh ! names are nothing. Often, well you know, The " people's friend " is but the people's foe, Who fosters error for his selfish ends ; Heav'n save the silly people from such friends — The architects of ruin. God be praised, They perish in the storm themselves have raised ; So Freedom's glorious flight is all in vain. Liberal. We don't want Aristocracy to reign : That rule a nation's energy depraves ; The few are tyrants, and the many, slaves. Conservative. All tyranny is bad — but worse to view The tyranny of many o'er the few. In such a state, 'tis selfishness that rules, Justice and Reason plead in vain to fools. I sigh not for the reign of Aristocracy, Still less for that of turbulent Democracy. Intelligence I want upon the stage, But instability is all the rage : The State, in party-strife, is rudely tost, An«l Wisdom's voice, amidst the din, is lost. THIRD DIALOGUE. 55 The lust for power is all a statesman's aim, And Patriotism is but an empty name. Yet men, through greed, to ruin oft are brought. Ev'n a " Turner " may be dearly bought — A treasure for the moment, on the morrow, A thing, perchance, to waken shame and sorrow. Liberal. The present is our purpose, never mind The future. If you act for that, you'll find Your judgment all awry. Not what is true Or just i' the abstract, what's expedient too Must guide wise legislators in their action. Then - earnestness will drown the voice of faction. Honest of purpose, they disdain to use The means which clever statesmen often choose In urgent moments ; and — for what base ends ? — To " dish " their enemies, they blind then- friends ; And by a process they term " education," Heap on their party shame and degradation. How feel respect for statesmen who, in power, To serve the poor ambition of the hour, Carry those measures which to fell perdition They doomed so fiercely when in opposition ? Such shiftiness can only rouse contempt, And from that vice your chief is not exempt ; Too steeped his mind in sophistry and art. 5 6 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Conservative. Let Gladstone take your censures to his heart ; No living man, of any weight, has shown Such utter recklessness, or overthrown Belief in politicians. It would seem That firmness is a mark of no esteem ; And that, for sake of power, a man may kill His honest instincts, and may prosper still. Liberal. On change, per se, there's surely no restriction ; The wisest men accept it, on conviction. None but a fool, when all his kith and kind Are flying elsewhere, would remain behind, Even though they wandered into desert places, And what he stuck to was a sweet oasis. 'Tis best to follow whither points the hour. Conservative. So that men change not for the sake of power, I don't object to change ; but if you shift The sail at every breeze, you'll go adrift, And roam at the " discretion " of the blast, Which, had you but remained, would soon have past. Not to the swiftest is the race, we know, Nor yet the battle to the strongest ; so THIRD DIALOGUE. 57 The truly wise suspend their judgment, till They've pondered deeply on the question. Still, "Tis not his sudden change I deprecate, Although I doubt the truth of what you state On Gladstone's motives ; and must still declare That love of office was his crowning care. But let that pass. What most in him I chide, Is not mobility, but want of pride. How one, by education and position So prized 'mongst men, could form a coalition With ranting demagogues, and condescend To treat a bawling Finlan as a friend, Is conduct for which language has no name. Not so would Peel have acted. There's his shame. With men who common decency defy, Conservatives, at least, will not ally. Liberal. Methinks that I could tell a different story, But in that virtue there is little glory, And you are welcome to the joy and profit You reap thereby ; for me I simply scoff it. A politician must not stick at trifles, For honesty, although a virtue, stifles The force of action, and exelusiveness Is folly. Nay, I blush not to confess, Whoever props a cause that seems to totter Is welcome, be he even Beales or Potter. 58 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. In action, if your foe you can surpass, Why scruple if the weapon 's gold or brass ? For when by such means you have gain'd your ends, 'Tis easy to ignore your quondam friends. Conservative. You call that policy — I call it vice. Liberal. In politics, one can't be over nice. Conservative. At least, a man may keep his fingers clean. Liberal. Whilst you're at work, 'tis waste of time, I ween, To keep your fingers pure : easy to wash Them when your labour 's over. Conservative. Yet, in slosh You need not wallow, just like pigs or rats. Liberal. The end will sanctify the means. THIRD DIALOGUE. 59 Conservative. Oh! that's Your creed, rny friend ? Nay, then, I cease to wonder At ways of Liberals, in search of plunder. Liberal. Come, come ; your chief don't stick at trifles. Take, For instance, his Keform Bill. For the sake Of popularity, he condescended To lower the franchise — far, far more than tended The Bill of Gladstone. Conservative. Yes, and wisely so. He felt your purpose was to overthrow Intelligence and property. If men Are feeble to protect themselves, why then 'Tis time their muddled intellects to clear, And make them turn Conservatives through fear. So will it be, and vain the truth to blink, The day is not so distant as you think, When every one, ay, even those whose all Is vested in a whelk or apple-stall, To save their goods from communistic claw, Will loosen, not restrain, the might of law. For men, though liberal in giving what Belongs to others, stick to what they've got 6o SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Ity foul or honest means ; and then, no wonder They turn Conservatives, to save their plunder. Then comes the tug of war ; and though, at first, Fell ignorance and vice — the barriers burst Of common sense and honesty — will reign As best befits their needs, the war is vain : For well I know, and therein I rejoice, That Virtue in the end will conquer Vice. Yet when I think of all the ills which preachers Of Freedom work, I marvel how such teachers Can bring a state to anarchy and ruin, Nor feel a blush of shame at what they're doing. Liberal. The ills you fear are distant. Revolution Is not a British vice ; so, diminution Of wrongs political we may produce, Nor fear the gift will generate abuse. Conservative. Don't be too sure of that ; historians tell A tale o'er which 'twere wise to ponder well. What with trade-unionists and freedom, tending In deeds to license, we are quickly wending A slow but certain way to ruin, when The moment's pleasure shapes the acts of men. THIRD DIALOGUE. 61 Liberal. Your views are gloomy, mine incline to hope. I joy to think the future yet will ope A prospect to its children not unpleasant, And reap its full advantage from the present. Conservative. 'Tis strange ; methinks I heard 3 t ou just declare, Anent the present we should only care. Liberal. The present not ignoring, we may better The future, making it a grateful debtor. Conservative. In that respect, I'd rather be a creditor, And of our present glories be the editor. " One bird in hand," they say, " is better far Than two within the bush." Think what we are ! Whilst other nations, by desire elated For constant change, in power have fluctuated, One moment to fell anarchy a prey, Then, crouching meekly 'neath a despot's sway, England has prospered swiftly, hour by hour Rising in influence, in wealth and power. And yet, for what you call "amelioration," You'd overthrow those laws by which the nation 62 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. To such a pitch of glory has attained. By such mad acts, what honour can be gained ? Nay, with our present lot, rnethinks, 'twere best To be content, and live awhile at rest. Liberal. And so, inactive, keep the wheels of State. Conservative. The better — they have rolled too much of late. Action is good, but to be ever moving, Merely for motion's sake, is not improving ; Love of destruction is a human failing, Whether the object be a church or railing, Which rouses for the moment angry passions. Men soon adopt the very worst of fashions, And once let vice unchecked pursue its way. A statesman's tears are impotent to stay Its fearful progress ; so, 'twere best to keep License in chains, than o'er its deeds to weep. Liberal. Well, give Democracy the reins, and when Power alone is centred in the people, then You'll find, as privilege can no more sin, The reign of law and order will begin. THIRD DIALOGUE. 63 And that will be protected in a way Unknown when gentle Walpole had the sway. CONSEEVATIVE. " On horseback put a beggar, and he'll ride " — We all know whither ; who can then provide Against disasters, or, to give relief, Promise that he alone will come to grief ? I've no faith in " the people's" domination ; Most greedy men feel little veneration For laws or institutions which restrain Their love of license or their greed for gain. Whatever bars their progress, Church or State, Becomes the object of their bitter hate ; And, whilst the noxious obstacles exist, In riot and in ruin they'll persist. Liberal. I have no wish to see the sacred rights Of property invaded. In all fights 'Twixt Justice and Injustice, you may find Both Liberals and Tories of one mind ; But many things excite a veneration From prejudice or custom ; and a nation Can scarcely prosper which permits such feelings To form the mainspring of its social dealings. 64 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. All powers, however useful in their day, Become obstructive when they cease to sway ; And Time's foul cobwebs show, at any rate, A fabric's uselessness and rotten state. Remove it, if its presence makes men sneer, And pay your parting tribute of a tear ; Over the dead 'tis sweeter far to mourn Than see them living objects of our scorn. For antiquated lumber I've no pity, — A crumbling church or castle may be pretty, But if their presence is a bar to stay The steps of " progress," they must e'en give way ; And who so weak their absence to deplore ? Conservative. 'Tis easier to destroy than to restore. Look at the Irish Church ! the voice to drown Of Ireland's discontent, you fell it down, And think to win that nation's gratitude. I trust 'twill show it in a way not rude. But vain the hope. What Irishmen demand, Is not the gift of churches, but, of land ; And when from justice, or through fear, they get The land in their possession, don't think yet On disaffection you have placed a seal, Or stopped a further clamour for Repeal. THIRD DIALOGUE. 6? LIBERAL. There is a time for giving and refusing ; Britons don't yield to threatening or abusing. As yet, to pacify the sister nation, You've tried coercion ; try conciliation. Who fails by force, by love may conquer still ; Thus you may bend the Irish to your will ; And when you've granted all their just demands, Then, and then only, may you wash your hands Like Pilate, and your innocence protest, Believing you have acted for the best. But whilst you treat them as a conquered race, How can you hope rebellion to efface ? An alien Church, which lords it everywhere. Is, as a badge of conquest, hard to bear. Don't say your creed is right, and theirs is wrong ; Religious prejudice is far too strong To yield to force ; and even reason, though At last it conquers, is in action slow. Nor as a mission has it cause to boast Of proselytes. Where is the promised host ? For centuries it carried on the trade, And yet how many converts has it made ? Nay, friend; it was a useless piece of lumber, The nation in its progress to encumber ; And so its fall awakens no alarm, The good it did was little, — great the harm. F 66 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. So long as it existed 'twas the cause Of hatred and rebellion 'gainst your laws ; For though, from temper, anything but cool, The Irish are most difficult to rule, They might have, though the conquered, still remained Your loyal subjects had you but refrained From treading in contempt upon their coats, Or forcing your religion down their throats. Had you but acted as did wily Rome, Who in her conquests never made a home For her own priests and priestcraft, Ireland still Without a murmur might obey your will ; But now, so much does discontent increase, A scrimmage is the only road to peace. Conservative. No matter what the pressure of the hour, 'Tis dangerous to weaken any power, Which through man's ignorance, if not affection, Does more than all to keep him in subjection. To put down evil, law will not suffice ; Religion is the deadliest foe of vice. If men in virtue's paths their course won't steer From instinct, probably they will through fear ; And foolish is that statesman who would had Tbem to make light of an established creed, Or yet, Rebellion's terrors to abate, Remove a single pillar of tbc Statu ; . THIRD DIALOGUE. 67 For possibly — so giddy are the people — When you have taught them to pull down the steeple, They may not rest content with that alone, But, every barrier burst, upset the Throne. Liberal. Your prophecy is idle ; as a rule, Britons show more respect than ridicule For crowns and coronets ; and those who wear 'em, Should the day come when people may not spare 'em, Will be alone to blame for their disasters. Rulers gain more respect as friends than masters ; The vessel of the State 'tis theirs to guide, Its destined port "the people " will decide. And though, in " progress " we may reap some ill. A nation can't be ever standing still ; So long as inequalities exist Within the social scale, will men persist, By hook or crook, to better their condition. Conservative. Disorder is the fruit of such ambition. Too many cooks, they say, will spoil the soup ; And if you listen to each senseless whoop Of would-be legislators, bold and greedy. And careless of results, from being needv, 68 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. You'll find no benefit in the transaction, And give, perhaps, as little satisfaction As did that old man who, with boy and ass, Through his advisers, hoped in peace to pass. Liberal. A statesman's duty is to guide, not fetter, " The people " in their wishes for the better ; Not to restrain, but rather to persuade. To mark the distances were mile-stones made, And not to sit on, idle and neglected. Though sunny be the spot you have selected, With will and strength their journey to pursue, Amongst the passing crowd you'll find but few Who, though the gifts you promise may be won, Will bide with you, though basking in the sun. Ay ! you may fret and fume at instability, And preach upon Obedience and Humility, Yet vain the hope, by force of fraud or law, To stop the march of " Human Progress." Conservative. Pshaw ! Men give the wheels of State a shove, and dub It " Progress." Yes, but whither? There's the rub. Say, the intent is wise, beneficent, And fit for present need, who shall prevent THIRD DIALOGUE. 69 Others from following the bold example, And passing measures far more wide and ample In " progress " of destruction ? Who shall say Unto the ball, once pushed, " Roll on thy way So far, but farther thou shalt not proceed ? " Or curb wild license, having sown the seed ? The future is the offspring of the past ; Freedom, unchecked, brings Anarchy at last. Had Mirabeau not lit the ready brand, No Robespierre had lived to curse the land With tyranny so foul it needed all A despot's power lost order to recall. Curse as you may the lust of Despotism, Or more revolting vice of Barbarism, The crimes of Liberty outweigh all crimes- Think of poor Charles and Louis. Liberal. There are times When Right must yield to Might. If kings oppose Their subjects' will, let them beware of blows. " Divine right " is not theirs : they are but men, And must obey the laws, — not make them. Conservative. When Lawgivers can't enforce the laws they make, 'Tis surely time for kings themselves to take Measures to save themselves. 3 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Liberal. When nations rise, The "people's majesty" who dares despise? Conservative. Nay, rather say, the majesty of Might. I honour one alone — 'tis that of Right, Founded on Truth and Justice. Liberal. Yes ; but then So manifold is Reason, that when men What's best for human welfare would decide, " Public opinion " is the safest guide. Without the freedom of the public Press A nation's pulse beats feebly, and redress Of wrong is all forgotten till too late ; And then, by swift and sudden steps, the State Totters and falls, its progress worse and worse. Conservative. Power, irresponsible, is but a curse. The public Press is far the heaviest tax A nation pays for freedom. Justice lacks Authority to make its laws obeyed ; Yet, even whilst the solemn judgment 's stayed, Your petty journalist puts in his claw, And with a brazen " we " lays down the law. THIRD DIALOGUE. 71 Our very rulers are obliged to quaff Their daily draughts of Times or Telegraph, And thereby shape their course. Who then are free, In Freedom's choice domains ? I clearly see, 'Twere best to have a despot on the throne, Than by the public Press be swayed alone. Liberal. " Vox populi, vox Dei." Conservative. Hold ! enough ; Don't think to swamp me by such silly stuff. Liberal. Silly, or not, you'll find, my worthy friend, ''Public opinion " conquers in the end. Conservative. " Public opinion " is the voice of one ; And though men boast their eourage, there are none Who wince not at the editorial frown, And let a plural pronoun knock them down. Liberal,. So much the blows proceed from ignorance, " Aunt Sally " cannot have a better chance ; SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Serene, she smiles, well-knowing that the sticks Hurled at her miss her, five at least of six. Cannot you find in that a bright example Of getting what you want, however ample May be your wishes ? Conservative. I want nothing, sir, But what on all a pleasure may confer. Such wholesome duty you are not pursuing ; Your path is that of Anarch)* and Ruin. Liberal. Not quite so fast, my friend. Our sole desire Was just to quench the ever-latent fire That ueethes in all uneducated masses. We freely offered to the lower classes A right which hitherto had been denied Them, chiefly by the statesmen on your side, Who look upon the workman as a fool, And think themselves are only fit to rule. Conservative. Till they receive the fruits of education, Twere best that men, whatever be their station, Sbould be deprived of that tremendous power Which you, in your beneficence, would shower. THIRD DIALOGUE. 73 For though they may exult iu its possessing, They'll make a pretty pickle of the blessing. Liberal. I fail to see the justice or the truth Of your remarks, so harsh and so uncouth. The working classes are not void of sense. And though you sneer at their intelligence, They fatten the Exchequer notwithstanding. And sure 'twere just to let them have a hand in Spending the revenue, to which, they swear, Themselves contribute far the largest share. Conservative. If it be just that all men should possess A vote who to the State-purse more or less Contribute, then, in your exuberance Of justice, why, sir, did you look askance, And in your precious measure of Reform Make a selection from the greedy swarm, Nor give a vote to thieves as well ? Liberal. Because Those gentlemen have no respect for laws. 74 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Conservative. Yet if respect for Law be man's sole claim To have a vote, I doubt if you % could name A weaker one ; for though I blush to say it, More fear it than respect it. Liberal. So that they obey it, I care not for the cause of their obedience, For men are guided chiefly by expedience. And though you " dished " our measure of Reform, We did our best to quell the rising storm. The people clamoured loudly for a share Of power political, and so our care Was to do justice to the working classes, And separate them from the vicious masses, Which in all cities still will congregate, In spite of all the power of Church and State. And so, forgetful of their howling scream, — For universal suffrage is a dream Which fades before the sober light of Reason, — Our work was just adapted for the season. Of thieves and mendicants we took no note : Why should such wretched scum possess a vote ? 'Twas that of artisans alone we wanted. Conservative. Then it's a " Fancy franchise " that you vaunted, THIRD DIALOGUE. 75 As needful for the craving of the hour. You showed your cleverness — but where your power ? The government was not in Downing Street, But in Adelphi Chambers. Beales could meet Our rulers, all omnipotent, and say, — I own 'twas said to Walpole, — " For this day Don't interpose your power, and anyhow My pals, I'll promise, shan't kick up a row." Our rulers abdicated then their power, And Beales became the hero of the hour. But though he had full reason to exult In his great conquest, what is the result ? Look at your Parliament, in what respect Is it more independent or select ? About your artisan you made a row, — Nor Beales nor Potter got in anyhow ; Nay, even Odger, best of all the lot, By working-men was just consigned to pot. And so — my hope is slight — I see a chance Of Intellect supreme o'er Ignorance. But yet to party-spirit we are slaves, And blest are those indeed who live in " caves." Liberal. Well, take a " cave ; " and, speaking as a Mentor, You'll find far more will go out than will enter ; And then, in spite of your high moral tone, The chances are that you'll be left alone. 76 SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Conservative. And better, sir, to be so, tban to follow Tbe cowardly herd who scruple not to swallow The leek at bidding of each knave or cheat, And wade through any filth to keep their seat. Too few are they, indeed, who scorn to make A sacrifice of truth for party's sake. In earlier times, our M.P.'s, anyhow, ' Were far more free and independent : now They are but weak and willing instruments, At beck and call of their constituents. Our politicians love at France to sneer, And call her legislators, slaves — through fear Obedient to a despot's will. Are ours Not equally the cringing slaves to powers Far more despotic, and, in every sense, Less fit to lord it o'er Intelligence ? And pray, what is the difference, if any, In being the slave of one, or that of many ? Liberal. The first needs not, the latter must, obey ; For weak the single when the millions sway. When storms arise, a prudent man will flit Before the wind — Conservative. Or " lay-to " for a bit. THIRD DIALOGUE. 77 But storms " within a coffee-cup " are, surely, Tempests which any hark may ride securely. A powerful ruler will not change his course At each up-heaving of the " people's " force. For though in liberty of speech we pride, " Public opinion " is a treacherous guide. Liberal. " Public opinion," though you flout it, still Is all omnipotent. The " people's will " — As plainly uttered in the last election — Was firm and resolute in the rejection Of you and yours, and placed full confidence In Gladstone's motives and superior sense. Conservative. The " people's will " indeed ! and pray, what sort Of " people " got your Gladstone into port ? Why vaunt your triumph in the late election ? It all resulted from the mean objection Of many creeds to one alone. And, now That bitter question is decided, how Can Gladstone hope, through every change of weather, To keep his wild and motley crew together ? Or think that any course he may pursue Will please the Irish and the Scotch-man too ? ;S SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. What though he brands them with a mighty " G,' - And keeps a score of whippers-in, to see No traitor leaves the camp ; — the hireling crew Will scamper to "fresh fields and pastures new," If that the provender, for which they pant, In quality or bulk be bad or scant. Liberal. Of all the politicians of the hour, Gladstone — and he alone — has got the power To keep your party at a proper length. We have at least the wit to see his strength. 'er Conservative. Say rather he has sense to see your foibles. To serve ambition, he would turn the tables On you, as formerly he did on those Who, once his friends, are now his bitter foes. For principles are things, in politics, To which, alas ! no politician sticks ; And Gladstone, mightiest in Intellect, In Principle is weakest of your sect. His vanity and loud intolerance Of opposition to his arrogance Are such that, even when he has the loaf Of State in band, he frets if any oaf Presumes to pick a crumb for which he pant-. Unless His Majesty the favour grants. THIRD DIALOGUE. 79 Liberal. Tis vain to argue with a man who don't See both sides of a question, or who won't. You seem content with what you are possessing. Conservative. And you take pleasure only in progressing, Thinking the State machine you can improve By keeping it for ever on the move. All haste and sudden change I deprecate. Your ways and mine are widely separate ; I don't run down-hill, broken limbs to get, Or scamper up-hill to produce a sweat. Liberal. But, on a level, you can go more fast. Conservative. Yes, if the level would for ever last, A man might go on at a swilling pace, Without much detriment to foot or face ; But, naturally, levels end, and so I much prefer, through life, to wander slow- A rolling stone will never gather moss. So SATIRICAL DIALOGUES. Liberal,. I don't suppose the stone regrets the loss Of what at least its motion must impede, Change its direction and restrain its speed. To me, inaction can no pleasure give ; Without a struggle, who would care to live ? And they who hate or fear all earthly fray, " Up in balloons " had better stop away. Conservative. Men's tastes will differ. I am no poltroon ; But I would rather sit in a balloon And watch, than mingle in a paltry strife, Wherein, if even you escape with life, There's little fame or honour to be gained. And when from such "bird's-eye view" I've obtained A knowledge of the fighters, Whig or Tory, I can descend, and portion out the glory Impartially, and — what I love full well- Devour the oyster and give each — a shell. Liberal. But then, the oyster may be not worth eating. Conservative. If so, there's little wisdom in repeating THIRD DIALOGUE. 81 Your scorn of those who, though they wish to gain it, Decline by tortuous courses to obtain it. Let's drop the argument. In politics I'm sick of Tories or of Whiggish tricks. Liberal,. Add the Conservatives, and then, old blabber, I, too, will cease on politics to jabber ; For I see clearly that my hope is vain To make a convert of you. Conservative. I remain What I have been for ever — the firm friend Of all Intelligence. And heav"n defend Our country from the horrors of that hour. "When Ignorance becomes the ruling power. Liberal. Whilst virtuous Gladstone holds the reins of State I have no fear ; and though his views you hate, His wisdom and his justice, anyhow, You cannot call in question. Conservative. Bow-wow-wow ! LONDON' : PRINTED BV VIRT1 E AM) CO . cirr road. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50m-7, '54(5990)444 THE LIB v UNIVERSITY OF CALIFOKJSI* LOS ANGELES PR O'Neil - 5115 Satirical dia- 027s loeues. nwWIVA -innf/n PR 5115 027s UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 375 922 2