The Press.
London, England, 1854-09-02 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

THE ART OF POLITICS.
(AFTER THE EPISTOLA AD PISONES.)
tit pictura poCsia.—Hor.
If any painter not in Bedlam yet
Should Russell's head on Canning's shoulders set,
Or, more absurd, let pitying friends have seen
Pitt's mantle smothering helpless Aberdeen,
Or should one figure in two parts divide
And make of Burke and Graham each several side
(Like fam'd Franconi's clowns who charm the pit
In two-hued dress for Osborne's wearing fit),
Who that beneath the pepper-caatored dome
• Beheld the sight could gravely turn him home?

Believe me, friend, just such a picture seems
A Coalition, which, like sick men's dreams,
Shows us a crowd of foes together penn'd,
Assailing each what each should most defend,
Who purblind still the path of power essay,
No head to find, nor feet to tread, the way.*
Placemen and statesmen have the power, I grant,
To shrink at times from facts and deal in cant ;
The thing is read in " Hansard" every week,
And we must give the carte blanche that we seek.
But venture not to join the men as friends
Hostile in nature, principles, and ends ;
For who so mad as less than monstrous call
The squad that numbers Gladstone, Grey, and Hall?

When claptrap measures ushered from the Throne
To the assembled Parliament are shown,
Some specious promises your speech may grace,
Some flaunting tinsel and some tawdry lace.
Thus did Lord John in measured phrase and slow
His new Reform Bill's many beauties show ;
How every surgeon should a voter shine,
Phlebotomy and politics combine;
And make (such was the Coalition's will)
A senator as quickly as a pill.
Instead of bannered lamb and flying horse,
Templars should raise the " buff and blue " of course ;
That Hammersmith at Westminster should sit,
And Chelsea vindicate suburban wit.
Much-needed votes arrive from Irish bogs,
The Gower-street College, or—the Isle of Dogs.
When had but silly John his metier shown,
He would have left his new reform alone ;
Essayed some task to which his power approaches,
A bill on steam-boat smoke or hackney-coaches.
For what avails it that you have the skill
To model constitutions at your will,
When nightly failures are your doleful fate,
And, nay, you take to wreck not mend the State ?
Why, when the country sound finance would gain,
Should rank abortions spring from Gladstone's brain?
Above all else, in statesmen would we find
The truth and honour of a manly mind.

The greater portion of the talking crew
Some iglus fatuus blindly will pursue.
Russell, when forced to questions to reply,
In seeking briefness finds obscurity.
Osborne, for humour, beats his barren brains,
And gets but laughed at for his painful pains.
Macaulay, panting to sublime to rise,
In mud of anti-climax grovelling lies.
Who knows what Gladstone says or what denies,
As half-spoke truths he dimly qualifies?
When on one question, heedless of the right,
Men will vote white is black and black is white,
And all consistency and sense eschew,
What monstrous combinations rise to view !
Queer fish in woods (and Forests) swim content,
And bores, like Charley, to the sea are sent ;
But, wanting principle, be sure they change
One party's faults in t'other's vice to range.
Save Russell, none for every place is meet,
" To build St. Paul's or to command the fleet ; "
Shifted like Strutt and Granville day by day,
But not, like Strutt, adroitly choused of pay.
Such shifts to me appear, I must confess,
Like clothing Harlequin in Hamlet's dress ;
Pam in that breadth of brim to Bright endeared,
Or Bright himself in Muntz's flowing beard.

32.

41.

Be sure, my friend, before you take in hand
The helm of State that you can power command ;
That you've got shoulders such a weight to bear,
Nor whine " I'm old," like Premiers in despair.
And then, though toss'd 'twixt darkened heaven and
War's rocks ahead, Whig shoals upon her lee,
Of Romish reefs and rebel storms the sport,
You'll bring, like Pitt, the vessel into port.

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