"That 'Squire M'Fingal having grown
The vilest Tory in the town,
And now on full examination,
Convicted by his own confession,
Finding no tokens of repentance,
This Court proceed to render sentence :
That first the Mob a slip-knot single
Tie round the neck of said M'Fingal ;
And in due form do tar him next,
And feather, as the law directs;
Then through the town attendant ride
[him,
In cart, with Constable beside him ;
And having held him up to shame,
Bring to the pole from whence he
Forthwith the crowd proceed to
With halter'd noose M'Fingal's neck, While he, in peril of his soul,
Stood ty'd half hanging to the pole ; Then lifting high the pond'rous jar, Pour'd o'er his head the smoking tar ; With less profusion erst was spread The Jewish oil on royal head,
That down his beard and vestments ran And cover'd all his outward man,
As when (so Claudian sings* the gods
And earth-born giants fell at odds,
The stout Enceladus in malice
Tore mountains up to throw at Pallas;
And as he held them o'er his head,
The river, from their fountains fed,
Pour'd down his back its copious tide,
And wore its channels in his hide;
So from the high-rais'd urn, the tor-
[rents Spread down his side their various cur[rents;
His flowing wig, as next the brim,
First met and drank the sable stream;
Adown his visage, stern and grave,
Roll'd and adher'd the viscid wave;
With arms depending as he stood,
Each cuff capacious holds the flood:
From nose and chin's remotest end,
The tarry icicles depend;
Till all o'erspread with colours gay,
He glitter'd to the western ray,
Like sleet-bound trees in wintry skies,
Or Lapland idol carv'd in ice.
And now the feather-bag display'd,
Is wav'd in triumpli o'er his head,
* "Claudian's Gigantomachia.”
And spread him o'er with feathers
[missive,
And down, upon the tar adhesive :
Not Maia's son, with wings for ears,
Such plumes around his visage wears;
Nor Milton's six-wing'd angel gathers
Such superfluity of feathers s;
Till all complete appears our 'Squire
Like Gorgon or Chimera dire;
Nor more could boast on * Plato's plan
To rank amid the race of man,
Or
prove
his claim to human nature,
As a two-legg'd unfeather'd creature.
Then on the two-wheel'd car of state,
They rais'd our grand Duumvirate.
And as at Rome a like committee,
That found an owl within their city,
With solemn rites and sad processions,
At ev'ry shrine perform'd lustrations;
And lest infection should abound,
From prodigy with face so round,
All Rome attends him through the street,
In triumph to his country-seat;
With like devotion all the choir
Paraded round our feather'd 'Squire;
*"Alluding to Plato's famous definition of Man," Animal bipes, implumis."
In front the martial music comes
Of horns and fiddles, fifes and drums,
With jingling sound of carriage bells,
And treble creak of rusted wheels;
Behind, the crowd, in lengthen'd row,
With grave procession, clos'd the show;
And at fit periods ev'ry throat
Combin'd in universal shout,
And hail'd great Liberty in chorus,
Or bawl'd confusion to the Tories.
Not louder storm the welkin braves,
From clamours of conflicting waves;
Less dire in Lybian wilds the noise,
When rav'ning lions lift their voice;
Or triumphs at town-meetings made,
On passing votes to reg'late trade.*
Thus having borne them round the
Last at the pole they set them down, And tow'rd the tavern take their way, To end in mirth the festal day.
*Such votes were frequently passed at Town meetings; the object of which was, to prevent the augmentation of prices on the necessaries of life, and thus to obviate the effects of the depreciation of the papermoney.
And now the Mob, dispers'd and gone,
Left 'Squire and Constable alone.
The Constable in rueful case,
Lean'd sad and solemn o'er a brace,
And fast beside him, cheek by jowl,
Stuck 'Squire M'Fingal 'gainst the pole,
Glued by the tar, t' his rear apply'd,
Like barnacle on vessel's side.
But though his body lack'd physician,
His spirit was in worse condition.
He found his fears of whips and ropes,
By many a drachm out-weigh'd his
[hopes.
As men in gaol without main-prize,
View ev'ry thing with other eyes;
And all goes wrong in Church and State,
Seen through perspective of the gate;
So now M Fingal's second-sight
Beheld all things in diff'rent light;
His visual nerve, well purg'd with tar,
Saw all the coming scenes of war.
As his prophetic soul grew stronger,
He found he could hold in no longer :
First from the pole, as fierce he shook,
His wig from pitchy durance broke,
His mouth unglu'd, his feathers flutter'd
His tarr'd skirts crack'd, and thus he
[utter'd;
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