No More Learning

LXXX.

I've an hypothesis--'tis quite my own;
I never let it out till now, for fear
Of doing people harm about the throne,
And injuring some minister or peer,
On whom the stigma might perhaps be blown;
It is--my gentle public, lend thine ear!
'Tis, that what Junius we are wont to call,[hm]
Was _really--truly_--nobody at all.


LXXXI.

I don't see wherefore letters should not be
Written without hands, since we daily view
Them written without heads; and books, we see,
Are filled as well without the latter too:
And really till we fix on somebody
For certain sure to claim them as his due,
Their author, like the Niger's mouth,[542] will bother
The world to say if _there_ be mouth or author.

LXXXII.

"And who and what art thou? " the Archangel said.
"For _that_ you may consult my title-page,"[543]
Replied this mighty shadow of a shade:
"If I have kept my secret half an age,
I scarce shall tell it now. "--"Canst thou upbraid,"
Continued Michael, "George Rex, or allege
Aught further? " Junius answered, "You had better
First ask him for _his_ answer to my letter:

LXXXIII.

"My charges upon record will outlast[hn]
The brass of both his epitaph and tomb. "
"Repent'st thou not," said Michael, "of some past
Exaggeration? something which may doom
Thyself if false, as him if true? Thou wast
Too bitter--is it not so?
--in thy gloom
Of passion? "--"Passion! " cried the phantom dim,
"I loved my country, and I hated him.


LXXXIV.

"What I have written, I have written: let
The rest be on his head or mine! " So spoke
Old "_Nominis Umbra_;" and while speaking yet,
Away he melted in celestial smoke.
Then Satan said to Michael, "Don't forget
To call George Washington, and John Horne Tooke,
And Franklin;"[544]--but at this time there was heard
A cry for room, though not a phantom stirred.

LXXXV.

At length with jostling, elbowing, and the aid
Of Cherubim appointed to that post,
The devil Asmodeus[545] to the circle made
His way, and looked as if his journey cost
Some trouble. When his burden down he laid,
"What's this? " cried Michael; "why, 'tis not a ghost? "
"I know it," quoth the Incubus; "but he
Shall be one, if you leave the affair to me.

LXXXVI.

"Confound the renegado! [546] I have sprained
My left wing, he's so heavy;[547] one would think
Some of his works about his neck were chained.
But to the point; while hovering o'er the brink
Of Skiddaw (where as usual it still rained),
I saw a taper, far below me, wink,
And stooping, caught this fellow at a libel--[ho]
No less on History--than the Holy Bible.