The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore :: :: University of Virginia Library

Canonize him!—yea, verily, we'll canonize him;
Though Cant is his hobby, and meddling his bliss,
Though sages may pity, and wits may despise him,
He'll ne'er make a bit the worse Saint for all this.

Descend, all ye Spirits, that ever yet spread
The dominion of Humbug o'er land and o'er sea,
Descend on our B*tt*rw*rth's biblical head,
Thrice-Great, Bibliopolist, Saint, and M. P.

Come, shade of Joanna, come down from thy sphere,
And bring little Shiloh—if 'tisn't too far—
Such a sight will to B*tt*rw*rth's bosom be dear,
His conceptions and thine being much on a par.

204

Nor blush, Saint Joanna, once more to behold
A world thou hast honour'd by cheating so many;
Thou'lt find still among us one Personage old,
Who also by tricks and the Seals makes a penny.

Thou, too, of the Shakers, divine Mother Lee!
Thy smiles to beatified B*tt*rw*rth deign;
Two “lights of the Gentiles” are thou, Anne, and he,
One hallowing Fleet Street, and t'other Toad Lane!

The Heathen, we know, made their Gods out of wood,
And Saints may be fram'd of as handy materials;—

205

Old women and B*tt*rw*rths make just as good
As any the Pope ever book'd as Ethereals.

Stand forth, Man of Bibles!—not Mahomet's pigeon,
When, perch'd on the Koran, he dropp'd there, they say,
Strong marks of his faith, ever shed o'er religion
Such glory as B*tt*rw*rth sheds every day.

Great Galen of souls, with what vigour he crams
Down Erin's idolatrous throats, till they crack again,
Bolus on bolus, good man!—and then damns
Both their stomachs and souls, if they dare cast them back again.

How well might his shop—as a type representing
The creed of himself and his sanctified clan—
On its counter exhibit “the Art of Tormenting,”
Bound neatly, and letter'd “Whole Duty of Man!”

Canonize him!—by Judas, we will canonize him;
For Cant is his hobby, and twaddling his bliss;

206

And, though wise men may pity and wits may despise him,
He'll make but the better shop-saint for all this.

Call quickly together the whole tribe of Canters,
Convoke all the serious Tag-rag of the nation;
Bring Shakers and Snufflers and Jumpers and Ranters,
To witness their B*tt*rw*rth's Canonization!

Yea, humbly I've ventur'd his merits to paint,
Yea, feebly have tried all his gifts to portray;
And they form a sum-total for making a Saint,
That the Devil's own Advocate could not gainsay.

Jump high, all ye Jumpers, ye Ranters all roar,
While B*tt*rw*rth's spirit, uprais'd from your eyes,
Like a kite made of foolscap, in glory shall soar,
With a long tail of rubbish behind, to the skies!

A great part of the income of Joanna Southcott arose from the Seals of the Lord's protection which she sold to her followers.

Mrs. Anne Lee, the “chosen vessel” of the Shakers, and “Mother of all the children of regeneration.”

Toad Lane, in Manchester, where Mother Lee was born. In her “Address to Young Believers,” she says, that “it is a matter of no importance with them from whence the means of their deliverance come, whether from a stable in Bethlehem, or from Toad Lane, Manchester.”