The institute | ||
CANTO III.
Magna sonaturum ------
HOR.
LUCAN.
Hoc est?
PERSIUS.
Intaminatis fulget honoribus.
HOR.
ARGUMENT.
--- in the Chair.—He sends a deputation to implore the assistance of the two Father Sages.—The Delegates arrive at ---'s:—His grand and dignified deportment:—Their address to him; and his gracious answer.—They joyfully proceed to ---'s:—Description of the Sage in his Penetralia: —They hail him as their destined Leader:—He receives them most propitiously; but his too impetuous zeal is productive of a calamitous accident.—The scene changes to the Conclave:— Their prudent arrangements:—Their anxiety for the safety of the absent Brethren; from which they are at length relieved by their return with the two Chiefs; who having taken their seats on either hand of the Preses, embrace him as now worthy to be their Mate.—--- relates to the Conclave his strange mishap; which --- interprets as symbolical, and hails as a happy Omen.—--- then requests the Preses to explain how the Embryon Institute shall be ushered into luminous and active existence.—His sublime Apostrophe to the same.
Rais'd to that height by vote unanimous;
He strikes the board to calm their clam'rous joy,
(Which lengthen'd might Philosophy destroy,)
And instant every cackling tongue was still
As the dead murmur of a frozen rill.—
“Of blameless men, in number half-a dozen,
“To beg our Father Seers, of honour'd name,
“--- and ---, Seneschals of fame,
“That they vouchsafe to listen to our Cries,
“With our stupendous Labour sympathise,
“Aid the great Birth, and head the high Emprise.”
And gives the rod of Office to their hand:
Incontinent, the obedient Members go
To hoary --- in a function'd row.—
The area of his Class-room long and wide;
Proudly he stamps like war-horse on his ground,
At fife's shrill note or bass-drum's dreadful sound;
His left hand grasp'd a book, his right was spread
In oratorial flourish o'er his head;
And ey'd the Sage with reverential look.
As Roman Senate felt the magic tones
Of Tully's voice thrill thro' their marrow-bones,
When he 'gainst Cataline and Verres stood,
And rear'd his form august in wrathful mood:
So ---'s voice his young disciples hear,
Ape his proud port, and gapingly revere.—
Halt in the porch and list the well-known sound,
Then faltering enter—but with fear struck dumb,
Can scarcely tell the reason why they come;—
At length, encourag'd by his accents bland,
Thus spoke the learned Leader of the band:
“With ardent souls on future glory set,
“And sprinkle on the People general lore;
“Great are their powers,—but as gigantic Alps
“O'ershade the mountains, or a bear her whelps,—
“Even so our --- and our --- rise
“Amidst their brethren towering to the skies!
“We, as Ambassadors, are sent to plead
“For thy assistance in their pressing need;
“O, hearken then, with haste thyself bestir,
“And lend thy helping hand, illustrious Sir!”
Or Moorish monarch in a morrice dance,
Great --- leap'd, and toss'd his arms on high,
And rais'd his eye-balls upward to the sky:
He cried—(and trembled all the delegates)—
“Now, Goddess! open wide thy golden gates!
“My voice shall dissipate their modest fears!
“Long ere Aurora usher in the morn,
“An Institute shall in our Town be born,
“And Phoebus, with his earliest beam, shall greet
“Our mighty Offspring on its hundred feet!
“To --- haste, O Friends; I'll join the band
“When I have shov'd these classes off my hand.”—
Chant merrily along their home-ward road,
Till thy dark lanes, O Bonnington, resound,
And Jock's Lodge Barracks echo back the sound:
So these returning sages caroll'd wild,
While oft the passengers look'd back and smil'd,
And bless'd their jovial Bacchanalian souls—
Unwitting men!—Not over earthly bowls
'Twas pure ethereal drink and intellectual bousing!
A wondering watchman lights them with his torch.
The hermit-sage, in easy-chair reclin'd,
'Mid musty volumes, old and orthodox,
By Luther, Calvin, Bucer, and John Knox;
Upon the page, with greedy glare, is bent
His eye, with many a midnight vigil spent;
For golden grain he grubs through hills of chaff,
And mingles foaming malt for marv'ling mobs to quaff.
Into its peaceful crevice oft will creep,
And snugly lurk while monsters wander by,
So sat great --- in his Library.—
In solemn whisker'd majesty—a cat;
A whining lap-dog, meagre, cold, and burnt,
Around the hearth in shivering circles turn'd;
An ancient damsel trimm'd the sleeping fire,
And smote the lap-dog in a vestal ire.—
Scarce could they secret merriment assuage;
But straight, with meeken'd look and earnest tone
And lowly bow, they make their errand known;
And hail'd him Chief by all their joyful votes—
Their Leader destin'd by Fate's whitest lots.
Extatic raptures kindle on his cheeks!
As when the Attic Thunderer arose,
With voice of terror to his country's foes,
Dauntless amidst innumerous alarms:
So ---,—and like torrent from the rock,
His answer in these gracious words outbroke:
“Inspires your words—and I obey the sign.
“Rush then impetuous to the fields of fame,
“Led by my guidance, sanction'd by my name;
“I'll lend my hand to give the Mountain birth,
“And from its top illuminate the earth!”
The ancient table with a kick o'erturn'd:
Grimalkin scream'd, and struck with sudden fear,
Leap'd on his crown, and clutch'd his sacred ear
With desperate claw:—The Dame her besom plied
To free her master—but (ah! doleful tide!)
Great ---'s nose was flatten'd by the blow!
O fatal hour! O gash of grief and shame!
O cursed cat! and most unhappy dame!—
I may not sing the rest—my flattering tongue—
Your feeling hearts—forbid it to be sung!
And urg'd these mandates like the voice of Fate:
“While I myself compile our code of laws,
“Lend all talents, Sirs, to aid the cause:
“Let some the public prints industrious ply,
“By pithy paragraphs to catch the eye;
“With dole of flattery and crumbs of praise,
“The many-headed monster's ardour raise;
“Some canvass with the Ladies and the Beaux.”
Two hours had fled:—“O Friends,” then --- cries,
“I fear malignant Fiends or envious Fates
“Have wrought some mischief to our Delegates!
“And now approaches the eventful hour,
“To mingle mystic rites and words of power,—
“The solemn hour of twelve:—And, hark,—the chime
“Of high St. Giles slow numbers out the time!”
With lengthen'd visage, and out-plucking fast
His watch—(if haply he that treasure own'd)—
Gaz'd on it wildly, put it up and groan'd!
To seek the seers that all should issue out,
Nor brook suspense, more dreadful than despair;
But Oh! how joy o'er-flush'd the cheek of care,
When from afar they hear the mingled hum
Of learned tongues along the alley come.—
---—and he who in the cause had bled,
Illustrious ---—of high port erect;
Altho' his front with sable patch was deckt.
From Eden's ruin'd bowers exulting came,
‘Pride in his port, defiance in his eye,’
To sieze his throne in Pandemonium high;
Above his Principalities and Kings
High towering like a rock—(as Milton sings)—
The rotten flooring trembled as he trode!
At ---'s better hand he mounts the desk;
High on the left sat --- on a cask.
Nor would they suffer --- to resign
The chair of State;—too generous to repine,
Each Sire embrac'd him with a hug sincere,
Anointed from on high to be their peer.—
With wondering look, his damag'd nasal pride)—
And, in pathetic speech, proceeds to tell
How such mishap unto his face befell;
How leap'd the cat; how gush'd the purple flood;
How Calvin's page was stain'd with filial blood;
“Yet still,” he adds, “'twill be my pride to smart
“For such a cause, in nose or nobler part.”—
Of mingled grief and joy that rose around—
“All hail this sign, for as Minerva wore
“The Cock courageous on her helm of yore,
“So thee a Cat hath crown'd to mark, I guess,
“Thy Wisdom and peculiar Watchfulness.
“The symbol this: When our united might
“Hath heav'd the new-born Mountain into light,
“Thou proudly on its top shalt sit and purr,
“And scratch the face of every hostile cur,
“And worry every nibbling mouse and rat,
“And reign for aye our Tutelary Cat!
“That back to this posterity may look—
“Be it recorded in the Minute-book.”
“But now 'tis sitting we to work proceed:
“With loftier genius, more celestial fire;
“On whom propitiously our Genius showers
“Peculiar blessings from his lofty bowers;
“To thee the rolls of fate are all unfurl'd—
“Say how our Institute shall issue to the world.—
“Brilliant as bubbles blown from foamy soap!
“Thou shalt be blest by many a wight forlorn,
“Thou shalt be hail'd by ages yet unborn!
“The Institutes of every earlier day
“Shall sink to native nothingness away;
“But thou the last, the greatest, and the best,
“Balloon-like rising to immortal rest,
“Shalt soar on wing of golden pinion'd time,
“Proudly secure, and loftily sublime!”
The institute | ||