Jove peep'd thro' his moons, and examin'd their features,

And said, “By my truth, they are wonderful creatures,

"The beards are so long that encircle their throats,

That (unless they are Welchmen) I swear they are goats:

"But now, my dear Juno, pray give me my mittens,

(These insects I am going to handle are Britons)

I'll draw up their isle with a finger and thumb,

As the doctor extracts an old tooth from the gum."

Then he raised her aloft-but to shorten our tale,

She looked like a clod in the opposite scale

130

A sugar Planter in the interior parts of Jamaica, near the City of San Jago de la Vega, (Spanish Town) 1784. "The motions of his spirit are black as night, And his affections dark as Erebus." -SHAKESPEARE.

If there exists a hell-the case is clearSir Toby's slaves enjoy that portion here: Here are no blazing brimstone lakes-'tis true;

But kindled Rum too often burns as blue; In which some fiend, whom nature must detest,

Steeps Toby's brand, and marks poor Cudjoe's breast.

Here whips on whips excite perpetual fears,

And mingled howlings vibrate on my ears:

No art, no care escapes the busy lash; All have their dues-and all are paid in cash

The eternal driver keeps a steady eye On a black herd, who would his vengeance fly,

But chained, imprisoned, on a burning soil,

For the mean avarice of a tyrant, toil! The lengthy cart-whip guards this monster's reign

And cracks, like pistols, from the fields of cane.

Ye powers! who formed these wretched tribes, relate,

What had they done, to merit such a

fate!

20

Why were they brought from Eboe's sultry waste,

To see that plenty which they must not taste

Food, which they cannot buy, and dare not steal;

Yams and potatoes-many a scanty meal! One, with a gibbet wakes his negro's fears,

One to the windmill nails him by the ears;

One keeps his slave in darkened dens, unfed,

One puts the wretch in pickle ere he's dead:

This, from a tree suspends him by the thumbs,

That, from his table grudges even the crumbs!

30

THE PROGRESS OF BALLOONS "Perdomita tellus, tumida cesserunt freta, Inferna nostros regna sensere impetus; Immune cælum est, dignus Alcidæ labor, In alta mundi spatia sublimes feremur." -SENEC. HERC. FURENS.

Assist me, ye muses, (whose harps are in tune)

To tell of the flight of the gallant balloon! As high as my subject permit me to soar To heights unattempted, unthought of before,

Ye grave learned Doctors, whose trade is to sigh,

Who labour to chalk out a road to the sky,

Improve on your plans-or I'll venture to

And, aided by glasses, its secrets betray, Who gaze, the night through, at the wonderful scene,

Yet still are complaining of vapours be

Ah, seize the conveyance and fearlessly rise To peep at the lanthorns that light up the skies,

And floating above, on our ocean of air, Inform us, by letter, what people are

there.

In Saturn, advise us if snow ever melts,

sphere.

Our folks of good morals it wofully grieves,

That Mercury's people are villains and thieves,

You'll see how it is-but I'll venture to shew

For a dozen among them, twelve dozens below.

From long observation one proof may be had

That the men in the moon are incurably mad;

However, compare us, and if they exceed They must be surprizingly crazy indeed. 60 But now, to have done with our planets and moons

Come, grant me a patent for making balloons

For I find that the time is approaching

LITERARY IMPORTATION

However we wrangled with Britain awhile We think of her now in a different stile, And many fine things we receive from her isle;

Among all the rest,

Some demon possessed

Our dealers in knowledge and sellers of

sense

To have a good bishop imported from thence.