Fools follow fashions whether wrong or wright;
And ape what splendour sets before their sight.
For spies and panders even grew so bold,
They ask'd the Romans for their wives or gold,
And promis'd safety; but whoe'er refus'd,

With racks, were threaten'd, and, with crimes, accus'd
Menac'd by spies, men gave extorted gold
To save their lives; and yet their lives were sold.
To charge was death, and yet the vilest breath
Could charge the best, and cause a cruel death.
Some savage monarchs pass'd their times away,
Inventing new or cruel modes to slay :

Some maim'd the eyes; and some, with brutal hearts,
Cut off the limbs, or tore the hidden parts; (23)
Some pass'd each sentence as the charge was made ;
And some, more harden'd in the murd❜ring trade;
Decreed, at once, (24) that all th' accus'd should die :
And one, wide sentence let their weapons fly.
Retailing orders wasted too much breath:
These wholesale tyrants sent great crowds to death;
And kept their carts, in constant work, to haul
The loads of slain, (25) beyond the city wall:

From these known facts, this clear conclusion flows,
That monarchs cause the worst of human woes.
Although those tyrants got such loads of gold
By confiscations and from pardons sold;

Although the world from north to south was drain'd And wealth, by crimes, and even bawds obtain'd; Yet even then, a monstrous tax was laid,

And wealth, extorted from the poorest trade :

For what! Alas, what shocking scenes are here !!!
Millions of poor, before our sight appear,
Robb'd of their bread, with starving children left,
Deprived of clothing, and of food bereft.
For what? the vilest of the race of men?
Knaves, felons, cut-throats, all the motley clan,
Of stupid sots, a vile, emetic, race,

With bloated carcase, and putrescent face!
Millions are seen, whom tender ties unite,
An who, with justice, might enjoy delight:
Wretched through want, aud robb'd of hard earn'd
bread;

While idle thieves, and putrid sots (27) are fed :
Nay, gorged and glutted, till they lose all taste,
Yet take from others, though they rot with waste.
Mothers, beset by those they hold most dear,
Demanding bread, in countless groups, are here:
Here children helpless, parents weak and old,
Tott'ring through want, and pinch'd with wintry cold.
Are forced to pay the most of what they earn,
For fools to squander, or for kings to burn.
Or feed vast armies, kept like beasts of prey,
To turn on those, whom monarchs wish to slay.
There kings rejoice to see a single hour,
The slow-earn'd gain of toiling age, devour;
To see the work of honest, feeble hands,
Destroy'd by lusty, idle, useless bands;

To see, in short, from starving millions drain'd,
That hard-earn'd food, which many years obtained:
To see this wasted, makes them sing (29) with joy;

Or strut, like crows, on what the fools destroy.
Here golden dust is strew'd about the street,
To guild a path for stupid tyrants' feet;
And here are kings, who order troops to slay
The crowds, attending at a race or play :

And folks unarm'd, within the circus met,
For merely laughing, (31) are by troops beset,
Cut, hack'd, and bruised, without distinction slain ;
The grave and laughing, both alike, remain
The sport of monarchs, whose audacious minds,
No sense of pity, shame, or prudence, binds.
And here, vast armies, though they drain the land,
Are lash'd, confin'd, and like young spaniels stand;
Depriv'd of virtue; all their ties destroy'd;
By nightly watch, and daily fear annoy'd.
Depriv'd of freedom, filled with vile disease,
And kill'd like beasts, when haughty masters please.
And here the parent, bending down with age,

And helpless children, other ills engage:

The sires' last hope, the children's only stay,
By tyrants press'd are rudely forc'd away;
And when the parents beg their sons again,
The prince commands that sires or sons be slain.
O Reader! Reader! if thy eyes could see
What things past ages might unfold to thee,
Thou mightest see what fancy fails to reach;
Such scenes as beggar all the powers of speech !
The greatest monster that exists to day
Is human (32) frailty, arm'd with sovereign sway.
If men are rais'd above the place design'd,

By nature's law, to fit their state of mind,

It causes discord: Hence, when raised to thrones,
Men cause discordance through all nature's tones.
'Tis thus in music; if we change the base
To tenor, counter, or to treble's place,

It baffles all the best musician's art,

To charm the ear, or sooth the human heart.
Monarchs or kings, their worst (33) desires, will sate;
Who dare to hinder, or incur their hate,
By word or deed? As laws will not restrain,
When kings transgress, no subject dare complain.
Let human passions prove the truths I sing,
When viewed in shape of some well guarded king:
Secur'd from others, and in strength, grown bold,
Nurs'd up in folly, and in wrongs, grown old;
Unaw'd by laws, and by no shame, restrain'd;
In crimes, long harden'd, and in blood, long stain❜d,
Diseas'd and bloated, drunk and fill'd with wine;
Stuff'd, gorg'd, and heated, till his features shine;
Then flatter'd, worship'd, puff'd, and swell'd with praise:
Thus Neros laugh (34) to see their cities blaze.

Thus Alexanders make a sacrifice ;

And slay whole crowds because a mihion (35) dies.

Thus cruel Sapors slay their captive men,

To mend the roads, (36) and fill each hole and fen;
O'er groaning bodies, drive their cars and wains,
And dash through splashing, smoaking, goar and brains.
Let all the angry human passions speak,

When turn'd, unbridl'd, on the poor and weak :
They prove the nature of the heart and brain;

They prove that kings are never fit to reign:
For when their fierce and fiery passions rise,
All sense of shame and human feeling dies;
Reason itself, with ev'ry gleam of light,

will leave its mansion to the shades of night;
Or rather leave a beast in human form,

As cold and cruel as the pelting storm.

The time has come when all mankind should read;
And, viewing folly, hate each wicked deed.
'Tis time to learn how man has been oppress'd;
And turn the dagger from the virtuous breast.
'Tis time to read what history relates;
How blood and slaughter fill monarchal states:
How ev'ry vice is fed and nourish'd there;
And murder laugh'd at by the royal pair.
The felon courted, and the guiltless scorn'd;
The just imprison'd, and the wretch suborn'd:
How vice is gilt to prop a guilty crown,

And shines at court with gingerbread renown: (38)
How, through the streets, he rolls in gaudy state,
Whose crimes are shocking even to relate :
And he, the shame, the scandal and disgrace,
Yes, the reproach of all the human race,
Is left unslain! and pamper'd up in Court,
'Till human woes become his greatest sport!
How, through the world, a villain's name has rung,
whom pow'r has sav'd that justice would have hung:
How, snatch'd from justice by some prince or king,
The vicious triumph, while the righteous swing.

On lofty gibbets, rais'd to tutor slaves,