THE SNOW KING; OR, THE DANUBE

BY MR. O'KEEFE.

[From the Morning Herald, June 19.]

WHO heard his soft footsteps, ye winds, can ye tell?
None heard his soft footsteps, so lightly they fell.
Like down of dove feathers his feet met the ground,
And who ever heard, of dove feathers, the sound?
Say then have ye seen him as flitting in air;
The Snow King is he, ye cold breezes declare!
He hovers, he flutters, unsteady his pace,

V

His course from the north through the welkin you trace;
His cheek and his forehead are whiter than chalk,
To gaze on his visage would dazzle a hawk;
Though gentle, he lords it in regions unkind,
His voice of sharp anger comes keen with the wind.
"Who took my snows?" the Monarch cries
"I sent them drifting thwart the skies,
Pro ecting agents of my power, ⠀⠀
To shield from nip the grass, the flower;
The herb, each life sustaining thing,
Were shelter'd 'neath my silver wing.
Sol times the seasons, when his ray

Should make my snows dissolve away; }
Then where my shelt'ring snows have been,!

The grass appears in fresher: green.

Who took my snows? for who would dare
Lay to the blast the green-sward bare?"

Great Snow King, I tell thee, a waspish young boy,
Who sent is, on earth, but to mar and destroy,
To plan and to practise his battles and blaws,
He snatch'd from the meadow its mantle of snows.
With snow now he studies to mantle a town,
And build himself empire and future renown;
With art quite masonic, like old engineer,
The moat he will sink, and the parapet rear,
From curtain, gate, bastion, and breast-work, and wall,
He fancies he shoots out the hot cannon-ball.
Like fire when tied to foxes' tails,
And cherish'd by the fanning gales;
As sweeping through the fields of cor.,
Where Ceres hopes to fill her horn; ze

So

So rush'd the hungry war-dog forth,
And east and west, and south and north.
Who claps the lagging war-dogs' sides;
On caruage smiles, and peace derides?
Who to the dust the sceptre brings?
And who turns beggars into kings?
And who then makes those kings his slaves?
Who like a spinster weeps and raves?
Who now has made a world his foe?

The waspish boy who took thy snów.

The Snow King asks Phoebus to dart a fierce beam;
His snows on the hill are now turn'd to a stream;
Swell'd Danube beneath in loud torrents rolls on;
Away with his bridge went the laurels of Bon.
Thus, as he began, he now melts with the snows,
The Snow King gives Europe a glimpse of repose.

FASHIONABLE PIETY.

[From the Morning Chronicle, June 24.]

MR. EDITOR,

ALTHOUGH your paper is now relieved from that extreme length of detail into which it was pressed by the late Inquiry, you are not to expect that the consequences of that Inquiry will soon abate. Extensive as the debates were, it is probable that they did not include one half of the many reflections which the discoveries made are calculated to excite, and which, although they have no immediate connexion with the main question, yet attach very powerfully to the state of public, or perhaps I should say, fashionable morals.

With your leave, therefore, I shall take the liberty to point out one fact very clearly proved during the late examination, which shows more confusion of ideas in the matter of religion, morality, public decency, and private character, than perhaps were ever brought together, except in the brain of a lunatic, or in the extravagant conceptions of a writer of romance.

The fact to which I allude was,

"That

FASHIONABLE PIETY.

107

"That several ladies of character applied to a common strumpet, in order to obtain a church-living for a popular clergyman."

In this fact or proposition there is not a word, or certainly not two words in junction, that do not either excite disgust, or provoke the quickest sense of ridicule. If the members of this sentence are separated, each affords the subject of distinct reflection; when joined, they form a climax of inconsistencies such as is rarely to be found.

Ladies of character apply to a common strumpet, from a perfect knowledge of the profligate causes to which she owes her influence, in order to procure, of all things in the creation, a church-living! and for whom?for a popular or favourite clergyman!

Here it is natural to inquire, not who are these ladies of character, but what, in the present code of fashionable morality, is meant by character? Nor will this question be answered by saying, that character is synonymous with virtue or reputation, because it is impossible to connect virtue or reputation with the respect they evince for the favours, power, and influence of a strumpet. But a more important inquiry is, what are we to understand by a popular and favourite clergyman? And this, I am afraid, can only be answered in the language of contempt and ridicule; for all mention of the piety, doctrines, precepts, and example of such a man, if we look only at the effects they have produced upon such of his flock as are ladies of character, must tend to one of two consequencesa personal dislike of the man, or an illiberal conclusion that the hypocrisy of preacher and hearers is reciprocal. We have heard of fashionable morality, but here is the discovery of a fashionable piety, originating in close attendance at a fashionable chapel, which has for its object the preferment of a clergyman to the higher ranks of his order, for the good he has done to his

F 6

hearers'

hearers' souls-a good so extraordinary, so intimately connected with the pure precepts of the Gospel, and the awful terms of salvation, that in their fervent admiration of the preacher's talents, and in their pious gratitude for his having weaned them from the sinful practices of a wicked world, they fly-whither?—not to prayer, that Heaven may prosper his labours and increase his converts; but to the audience-room of a prostitute, that she may open the gates to preferment, and advance the interests of religion, through the dalliances of adultery.

It would not be difficult, Mr. Editor, to pursue this subject in other lights, if there were any light in which it did not present the most alarming images of dissolute morals and want of principle in those quarters where the community at large is taught to look for example.

I shall therefore conclude with asking only one question. Among such persons of character, do you wonder to hear (now almost weekly) examples of connubial infidelity, enough in number, and detestable and shameless enough in nature, to contaminate the whole mass of nobility? NON EGO.

THE

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON.

[From the same, June 28.]

HE conclusion of the Season of Fashion pretty closely resembles that of the Session of Parliament. In the latter, about this interesting period, bills are frequently passed through the House with an indecent precipitation; and in the former, three or four routs are obliged to be crowded into one night, so that it is no wonder if many a chalked floor, and many a Grecian lamp, exhibit their attractions without due attention being paid.

Nor is this allusion to the sister-season of Parlia ment inapplicable in other respects to the world of

fashion,

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON.

109

fashion, which appears to have been influenced more than usual by what was going on in the grave Senate of the nation. The Parliament having begun by an Inquiry which involved many curious questions of mo. rals and gallantry, and the intriguing spirit of the softer sex having been brought forward rather more prominently than "good men thought for,” a particular tone was given to the sentiments and conversation of the gay world; such as it had not been accustomed to receive from a source generally considered as dull and dry.

In this business, which wanted but little except the dramatic forms, dresses, and decorations, to make it as splendid as an opera, as diverting as a comedy, and as surprising as the tricks of a pantomime; which had all the essentials of plot, fable, neat dialogue, and attic salt, with a very pretty sprinkling of moral-there occurred at the same time such unexpected discoveries, such pulling off of disguises, such developements of intrigue, and such distinctions between ostensible and real character, that a general alarm took place, which spread through every department of state and every circle of fashion. A general cutting took place, and doors were slammed in the faces of those who before were ushered in between a line of state liveries; and what is almost incredible, the dinner-men discovered that there were other ingredients in the character of integrity and independence, than "all the luxuries of the season," or "a profusion of French wines."

Scarcely had these days of judgment expired, when some intrigues in high life were announced, to relieve the feelings of those who had been catechised into unpleasant confessions-intrigues accompanied by incidents of the modern heroic kind, and graced by a correspondence that seemed to rival the romantic style of the circulating libraries. This put grave legislators upon another diversion against the enemy, that of contriving