But Veneration being put in motion,

Then followed strains of rapturous devotion

Enough to melt the adamantine heart
That would repel the shocks of triple steel,
And to it glowing sympathy impart;

And make it for the woes of others feel,
Besiege its citadel with conscience' dart,
And to itself its turpitude reveal.

Woe to the man still callous to conversion!
Such stiff-necked Pagans are my real aversion.

Another feature of this noble science,
Unparalleled and far outrunning praise,
Is Time and Tune, which bid to all defiance,
And well might any drooping spirit raise;
But press him gently, and a prompt compliance
The patient yields in soul-transporting lays,
In melody reminding one of heaven:

I really wonder how such powers were given.

We'll add another to this chosen sample,

I mean the bump the wise call Self-Esteem; All must acknowledge that its powers are ample, And of its exhibitions few could dream.

Though sceptics sneer, and wits may on it trample,
And sunshine truths as gross delusion deem;
Yet truth's omnipotent, and demonstration
Steps kindly in, to prove my asseveration.

Therefore, believe me, or believe me not,
Just as you will-I little for it care;
But this I know, that lately many sought
To see the proofs, who living witness bear,
And testify a rustic first was brought,

With sluggish step, and many a vacant stare, High in this bump, though all as false esteeming, The grand mesmeric facts deception deeming.

But being gently operated on,

He held the ploughs and harrows in derision; No more from toil and labour now to groan,

But from the slave had made a blessed transi

tion;

Disdained the vulgar, plain, blunt name of John,

And smiling, strutted in perspective vision Of honours which would soon his talents crown, Whose lustre tended but to show the clown.

The next that figured spends his time in mending,
Whose only care is all about the sole,
And to conditions kindly condescending,

He cut some pretty capers on the whole;
Conscious of powers increasing and extending,
Of energies which nothing could control-
Felt qualified for any occupation

Requiring reason and discrimination.

No matter what-a prodigy self-styled,

And many quirks and quibbles could explain;

In art and science never was beguiled

His cogent, powerful, penetrating brain;
Both Church and State he taunted and reviled,
And fixed upon them many a filthy stain.
O Self-Esteem! what principle is nobler?
To raise this fool so much above the cobbler !

But courteous reader, pardon, should I blunder,
By introducing just another more:

I mean the bump now recognised as Wonder,
As all declare it fully worth a score;

Whose magic power, when any patient's under,
He sees, in fact, what he ne'er saw before-
Events, scenes, objects, past all parallel.
Strange that this bump should operate so well.

I hate a laboured, drawling, dull description,
And, by my Muse, detest the least confusion;
Irregularity in truth or fiction,

Is the cursed ignis fatuus to conclusion;
We'll lay Pegasus under due restriction,
And show a little of this damned delusion;
Excuse this crude indelicate expression,
I mean no ill, the patient's real impression.

And let him have it, yes, I him defend,

As well dispute what's seen in dreams or trances, Which all believe, though fools may here contend;

Then don't exempt your Poet from these fancies.

Let this be as it may, disputes to end.

One saw, of late, plays, operas, and dances, Where nobles, heroes, gallants, lovers floated, And twenty stones of royal lumber noted.

His wooden looks, in vain from furies flying,
With garments reeking in the blood of nations;
The cotton-spinner's son, for mercy crying

To plundered millions, by unjust taxations,
The sliding-scale was seen in ruins lying,
And failed at last all reconciliations.
This having fled, at last in triumph shone
Great Dan the First upon the Irish throne.

Next in prophetic vision was displayed

A mighty and gigantic spreading tree, Whose golden apples annually betrayed

The fertile soil that round about it be. The care immense its pious keepers paid,

It having cost two millions to the free, Who walked beneath its shady branches bent, Chanting the notes of Freedom as they went.

Whom Truth makes free are Freedom's sons indeed:

Heaven prosper all who are from conscience so! As conscience stamps the value on our creed, The oracle of God to man below,

Let all maintain its rights, and for them plead,

In spite of all the adverse winds that blow

Of bribes, and threats, and mean intimidations,
These low, degrading games of higher stations.

This, I allow, is rather a digression;

Excuse it, as I sometimes moralize.

Then to return: no verse can give expression
To half that met his wonder-stricken eyes;
But if it could, 'twould be a foul transgression
Of all that's delicate, discreet, and wise;

For, oh! the public feeling I revere!

Who knows but this may some day yet appear?

Thus has a faint but faithful sketch been shown Of these few organs which have been selected; No doubt we might a great deal farther gone, And more peculiarities detected,

But for the present will we let alone,

Suffice that all's been close enough inspected: I fear some fools may think this exposition Was meant to prove it just an imposition.

But let them think and judge it as they choose,
A fig for any way they may decide;
Where the philosopher who dares refuse
These scientific claims so closely tried?
Away, ye carping sceptics, callous Jews;
Can ever demonstration be denied ?
Were this a hoax, as blockheads may suppose it,
Yon ruling Elder surely would expose it.