 | The Modern Dunciad |  |
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“THE NEW VIEW OF SOCIETY.”
OR, MR. OWEN AT NEW LANARK.
A NEW BALLAD.
“News! neighbours, news!”
—Old Song.
—Old Song.
I, Robert Owen,
For certainty knowing
Political systems are rotten,
Have, with infinite pains,
Been confounding my brains,
With economy, logic, and cotton.
For certainty knowing
Political systems are rotten,
Have, with infinite pains,
Been confounding my brains,
With economy, logic, and cotton.
That man's a machine,
Will be presently seen,
When I've fully develop'd each measure;
And my system requires,
That I move the wires,
That the puppet may dance at my pleasure.
Will be presently seen,
When I've fully develop'd each measure;
And my system requires,
That I move the wires,
That the puppet may dance at my pleasure.
Like Noah in his ark,
I am king of Lanark!
My subjects due deference pay me;
You'll find in the sequel,
They're perfectly equal;—
That's equally bound to obey me!
I am king of Lanark!
My subjects due deference pay me;
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They're perfectly equal;—
That's equally bound to obey me!
The wise of all ages,
Philosophers, sages,
Dull rogues! must in turn go to school to me;
Aristotle and Plato
Are quite out of date O!
And Zeno himself is a fool to me.
Philosophers, sages,
Dull rogues! must in turn go to school to me;
Aristotle and Plato
Are quite out of date O!
And Zeno himself is a fool to me.
Locke, Newton, and Bacon,
I'll prove are mistaken,
Poor Malthus I'll down at a blow;
Landaff is mere chaff,
Hannah More is a bore,
And Bob and his job all the go!
I'll prove are mistaken,
Poor Malthus I'll down at a blow;
Landaff is mere chaff,
Hannah More is a bore,
And Bob and his job all the go!
The Commons and Lords
I've so bother'd with words,
That they vote me, to save time and patience,
Economist clever,
Extravagant never,
But in one simple thing—my orations!
I've so bother'd with words,
That they vote me, to save time and patience,
Economist clever,
Extravagant never,
But in one simple thing—my orations!
The faith I maintain,
Is a spice of Tom Paine,
My politics too, where's the wonder?
For argument specious,
I poach in Helvetius,
Nor Hume quite escapes from my plunder.
Is a spice of Tom Paine,
My politics too, where's the wonder?
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I poach in Helvetius,
Nor Hume quite escapes from my plunder.
Some have it, my style
Has a touch of Carlile,
(Such lies choke the rogues that invent them!)
I own there's a touch,
When I mystify much,
Of my honest old friend, Jerry Bentham!
Has a touch of Carlile,
(Such lies choke the rogues that invent them!)
I own there's a touch,
When I mystify much,
Of my honest old friend, Jerry Bentham!
I deny there's a devil,
Heav'n, or hell; good, or evil;
The doctrine of priests, I cut short all;
'Tis a farce of the schools,
That a Providence rules,
That the soul is sublime and immortal.
Heav'n, or hell; good, or evil;
The doctrine of priests, I cut short all;
'Tis a farce of the schools,
That a Providence rules,
That the soul is sublime and immortal.
That a glorified Being,
All-mighty, all-seeing,
Of infinite pow'r and dominion,
Call'd the stars into birth,
Form'd from chaos, the earth,—
I'm quite of a diff'rent opinion.
All-mighty, all-seeing,
Of infinite pow'r and dominion,
Call'd the stars into birth,
Form'd from chaos, the earth,—
I'm quite of a diff'rent opinion.
But chance, at a jerk,
Did the wonderful work,
And atoms, combining, concussing,
Toss'd, tumbled, and twirl'd
Themselves into a world,
And then in a frolic, brought us in!
Did the wonderful work,
And atoms, combining, concussing,
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Themselves into a world,
And then in a frolic, brought us in!
Where I'd have ev'ry man,
Just as long as he can,
For self, and for pelf, live and labour;
Then each mother's son,
When his dinner is done,
Walk off, and make room for his neighbour.
Just as long as he can,
For self, and for pelf, live and labour;
Then each mother's son,
When his dinner is done,
Walk off, and make room for his neighbour.
The plan I lay down,
Is to build a small town,
(Some wiseacres call it a riddle!)
In the shape of a square,
Parallelogram rare!
With an eating-house clapp'd in the middle!
Is to build a small town,
(Some wiseacres call it a riddle!)
In the shape of a square,
Parallelogram rare!
With an eating-house clapp'd in the middle!
Where intelligent cooks,
Who have studied my books,
Their novel experiments trying;
Till my favourite plan,
To a sop in the pan,
Rule the roasting, the broiling, the frying!
Who have studied my books,
Their novel experiments trying;
Till my favourite plan,
To a sop in the pan,
Rule the roasting, the broiling, the frying!
A bell in a steeple
Shall summons my people
To join the community's table;
Where Christian and Jew,
And the devil knows who!
Shall complete my edition of Babel.
Shall summons my people
To join the community's table;
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And the devil knows who!
Shall complete my edition of Babel.
As no priest 's in the place,
Let Nic's Chaplain say grace,
To quiet some scrupulous laymen;
And little Jack Gorgon,
My orator, organ!
Shall piously chuckle forth “Amen.”
Let Nic's Chaplain say grace,
To quiet some scrupulous laymen;
And little Jack Gorgon,
My orator, organ!
Shall piously chuckle forth “Amen.”
'Tis pleasant enough,
Tho' the mutton run tough,
To see how the rogues tooth and nail it!
Like flies in a shamble,
They join in the scramble,
With appetite good—what should ail it?
Tho' the mutton run tough,
To see how the rogues tooth and nail it!
Like flies in a shamble,
They join in the scramble,
With appetite good—what should ail it?
Lest brandy, or rum,
Should intoxicate some,
I banish them both, with Geneva;
Instead of blue-ruin,
We've Adam's own brewing—
A much better drink, by your leave-a!
Should intoxicate some,
I banish them both, with Geneva;
Instead of blue-ruin,
We've Adam's own brewing—
A much better drink, by your leave-a!
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As soon as my spinners
Have finish'd their dinners,
(Soup-maigre, if beef they'd the last time,)
The girls, for ten minutes,
Shall play on their spinnets;
The boys dance a hornpipe for pastime.
Have finish'd their dinners,
(Soup-maigre, if beef they'd the last time,)
The girls, for ten minutes,
Shall play on their spinnets;
The boys dance a hornpipe for pastime.
The old men and women
I'll treat with the skimming
Of some philosophical question;
Abernethy, queer chap!
Says an afternoon nap
Is an excellent thing for digestion!
I'll treat with the skimming
Of some philosophical question;
Abernethy, queer chap!
Says an afternoon nap
Is an excellent thing for digestion!
I'll tell the good folk,
That religion's a joke,
And offer my own, as a sample;—
That man is a brute,
Is beyond a dispute;
My friend, little Jack! for example.
That religion's a joke,
And offer my own, as a sample;—
That man is a brute,
Is beyond a dispute;
My friend, little Jack! for example.
That vice is a name,
And that virtue's the same,
Deserving nor censure, nor credit—
See, my “Essay,” in print,
Yet I'll give 'em the hint,
As few but myself, may have read it.
And that virtue's the same,
Deserving nor censure, nor credit—
See, my “Essay,” in print,
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As few but myself, may have read it.
Economy's this,
No advantage to miss—
Philanthropy too, is no stickler;
Its favourite dish is
The loaves and the fishes;
Taking care of itself in partic'lar!
No advantage to miss—
Philanthropy too, is no stickler;
Its favourite dish is
The loaves and the fishes;
Taking care of itself in partic'lar!
And liberty also,
At least what I call so!
Binds only mankind in my slavery—
And honesty true,
Is right worshipful too,
When a man can get nothing by knavery!
At least what I call so!
Binds only mankind in my slavery—
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Is right worshipful too,
When a man can get nothing by knavery!
Equality's crown
Is to level all down,
Who in fame or in fortune o'ercrow us;
And then, vice versa,
To grind without mercy,
The poor needy devils below us!
Is to level all down,
Who in fame or in fortune o'ercrow us;
And then, vice versa,
To grind without mercy,
The poor needy devils below us!
Liberality next,
Is the Quaker's old text—
My son, if of wisdom thou'st any,
Thou'lt always be found,
To make sure of a pound,
Before thou dost part with a penny!
Is the Quaker's old text—
My son, if of wisdom thou'st any,
Thou'lt always be found,
To make sure of a pound,
Before thou dost part with a penny!
The bosom that grieves,
And the hand that relieves,
At pity's soft impulse, is erring:
I laugh at the flat,
Who would throw out a sprat,
Unless he can pull up a herring!
And the hand that relieves,
At pity's soft impulse, is erring:
I laugh at the flat,
Who would throw out a sprat,
Unless he can pull up a herring!
Fine feeling's a hum,
And a hoax—“Homo sum,”
Mere school-boy romance, rhodomontade;
We stoics, “jam satis,”
Think advice, given gratis,
Enough for poor folks, when they want aid.
And a hoax—“Homo sum,”
Mere school-boy romance, rhodomontade;
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Think advice, given gratis,
Enough for poor folks, when they want aid.
The Owenite rule,
Is be cautious, and cool,
Indiff'rent to all things, and all men;
Your mind, in a freak,
Never venture to speak;
Truth spoke out of time, may enthral men.
Is be cautious, and cool,
Indiff'rent to all things, and all men;
Your mind, in a freak,
Never venture to speak;
Truth spoke out of time, may enthral men.
In all that you do,
Let a sinister view
Be your counsel, your guide, and director;
In all that you say,
Go the round-about way,
So ends the first part of my lecture!
Let a sinister view
Be your counsel, your guide, and director;
In all that you say,
Go the round-about way,
So ends the first part of my lecture!
I hold it imprudent,
To drive the young student
Up Learning's ascent by coercion;
Or e'en to encourage,
Beyond his pease-porridge,
The task he should learn—for diversion!
To drive the young student
Up Learning's ascent by coercion;
Or e'en to encourage,
Beyond his pease-porridge,
The task he should learn—for diversion!
My blockheads I teach,
Without birching their breech,
By a method that well may surprise one;—
For Solomon's maxim,
That pinches and whacks him,
Is certainly far from a wise one!
Without birching their breech,
By a method that well may surprise one;—
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That pinches and whacks him,
Is certainly far from a wise one!
Now here, and now there,
Like a dog in a fair!
All bustle and smoke, for the fact is,
So much I profess,
You may easily guess,
I'm quite in arrears in my practice!
Like a dog in a fair!
All bustle and smoke, for the fact is,
So much I profess,
You may easily guess,
I'm quite in arrears in my practice!
A droll, and a dreamer,
A politic schemer,
Who knows how to varnish his dross over;
A mountebank spouter,
An infidel doubter,
We now-a-days call a—philosopher!
A politic schemer,
Who knows how to varnish his dross over;
A mountebank spouter,
An infidel doubter,
We now-a-days call a—philosopher!
My son, who, in sooth,
Is a sensible youth,
A chip of th' old block, you'll suppose is;
He now and then chimes,
Quantum suff. in “The Times,”
Which the true leading journal, God knows, is!
Is a sensible youth,
A chip of th' old block, you'll suppose is;
He now and then chimes,
Quantum suff. in “The Times,”
Which the true leading journal, God knows, is!
Of fame he bids fair
To come in for his share;
(I don't know who else can, if not him;)
The cunning young shaver
Has brass in his favour!
A pretty plain proof I begot him!
To come in for his share;
(I don't know who else can, if not him;)
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Has brass in his favour!
A pretty plain proof I begot him!
I tried, verbum sat.
To illuminate Pat,
Full thrice did I lecture before him;
But Pat, who loves whiskey,
Is rarely in this key,
And cried, “Blood and 'Ouns!” not to bore him.
To illuminate Pat,
Full thrice did I lecture before him;
But Pat, who loves whiskey,
Is rarely in this key,
And cried, “Blood and 'Ouns!” not to bore him.
So I walk'd off my buff,
In high dudgeon enough—
I'm expected at Liverpool daily,
To join for a trip,
An American ship,
To civilize Jonathan—Vale!
In high dudgeon enough—
I'm expected at Liverpool daily,
To join for a trip,
An American ship,
To civilize Jonathan—Vale!
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