Days of political paradox were coming, at which we now stare. Cobbett[398]
said, about 1830, in earnest, that in the country every man who did not
take off his hat to the clergyman was suspected, and ran a fair chance of
having something brought against him. I heard this assertion canvassed,
when it was made, in a party of elderly persons. The Radicals backed it,
the old Tories rather denied it, but in a way which satisfied me they ought
to have denied it less if they could not deny it more. But it must be said
that the Governments stopped far short of what their partisans would have
had them do. All who know Robert Robinson's[399] very quiet assault on
church-made festivals in his _History and Mystery of Good Friday_
(1777)[400] will hear or remember with surprise that the _British Critic_
pronounced it a direct, unprovoked, and malicious libel on the most {178}
sacred institutions of the national Church. It was reprinted again and
again: in 1811 it was in a cheap form at 6s. 6d. a hundred. When the
Jacobin day came, the State was really in a fright: people thought twice
before they published what would now be quite disregarded. I examined a
quantity of letters addressed to George Dyer[401] (Charles Lamb's G.D.) and
what between the autographs of Thelwall, Hardy, Horne Tooke, and all the
rebels,[402] put together a packet which produced five guineas, or
thereabouts, for the widow. Among them were the following verses, sent by
the author--who would not put his name, even in a private letter, for fear
of accidents--for consultation whether they could safely be sent to an
editor: and they were _not_ sent. The occasion was the public thanksgiving
at St. Paul's for the naval victories, December 19, 1797.
"God bless me! what a thing!
Have you heard that the King
Goes to St. Paul's?
{179}
Good Lord! and when he's there,
He'll roll his eyes in prayer,
To make poor Johnny stare
At this fine thing.
"No doubt the plan is wise
To blind poor Johnny's eyes
By this grand show;
For should he once suppose
That he's led by the nose,
Down the whole fabric goes,
Church, lords, and king.
"As he shouts Duncan's[403] praise,
Mind how supplies they'll raise
In wondrous haste.
For while upon the sea
We gain one victory,
John still a dupe will be
And taxes pay.
"Till from his little store
Three-fourths or even more
Goes to the Crown.
Ah, John! you little think
How fast we downward sink
And touch the fatal brink
At which we're slaves."
I would have indicted the author for not making his thirds and sevenths
rhyme. As to the rhythm, it is not much better than what the French sang in
the Calais theater when the Duke of Clarence[404] took over Louis XVIII in
1814.
"God save noble Clarence,
Who brings our king to France;
God save Clarence!
He maintains the glory
Of the British navy,
etc., etc."
{180} Perhaps had this been published, the Government would have assailed
it as a libel on the church service. They got into the way of defending
themselves by making libels on the Church, of what were libels, if on
anything, on the rulers of the State; until the celebrated trials of Hone
settled the point for ever, and established that juries will not convict
for one offence, even though it have been committed, when they know the
prosecution is directed at another offence and another intent.