The Fudges In England. Letter Vi. From Miss Biddy Fudge, To Mrs. Elizabeth ---- Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Thomas Moore

The Fudges In England. Letter Vi. From Miss Biddy Fudge, To Mrs. Elizabeth ---- Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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How I grieve you're not with us pray come if you can	A
Ere we're robbed of this dear oratorical man	A
Who combines in himself all the multiple glory	B
Of Orangeman Saint quondam Papist and Tory	B
Choice mixture like that from which duly confounded	C
The best sort of brass was in old times compounded	D
The sly and the saintly the worldly and godly	B
All fused down in brogue so deliciously oddly	B
In short he's a dear and such audiences draws	E
Such loud peals of laughter and shouts of applause	E
As can't but do good to the Protestant cause	F
	-
Poor dear Irish Church he today sketched a view	G
Of her history and prospect to me at least new	G
And which if it takes as it ought must arouse	H
The whole Christian world her just rights to espouse	H
As to reasoning you know dear that's now of no use	I
People still will their facts and dry figures produce	I
As if saving the souls of a Protestant flock were	J
A thing to be managed according to Cocker	J
In vain do we say when rude radicals hector	J
At paying some thousands a year to a Rector	J
In places where Protestants never yet were	J
Who knows but young Protestants may be born there	K
And granting such accident think what a shame	L
If they didn't find Rector and Clerk when they came	L
It is clear that without such a staff on full pay	M
These little Church embryos must go astray	M
And while fools are computing what Parsons would cost	N
Precious souls are meanwhile to the Establishment lost	O
	-
In vain do we put the case sensibly thus	P
They'll still with their figures and facts make a fuss	P
And ask if while all choosing each his own road	Q
Journey on as we can towards the Heavenly Abode	Q
It is right that seven eighths of the travellers should pay	M
For one eighth that goes quite a different way	M
Just as if foolish people this wasn't in reality	B
A proof of the Church's extreme liberality	B
That tho' hating Popery in other respects	R
She to Catholic money in no way objects	R
And so liberal her very best Saints in this sense	S
That they even go to heaven at the Catholic's expense	S
	-
But tho' clear to our minds all these arguments be	B
People cannot or will not their cogency see	B
And I grieve to confess did the poor Irish Church	T
Stand on reasoning alone she'd be left in the lurch	T
It was therefore dear Lizzy with joy most sincere	U
That I heard this nice Reverend O'something we've here	V
Produce from the depths of his knowledge and reading	W
A view of that marvellous Church far exceeding	W
In novelty force and profoundness of thought	X
All that Irving himself in his glory e'er taught	X
	-
Looking thro' the whole history present and past	Y
Of the Irish Law Church from the first to the last	Y
Considering how strange its original birth	Z
Such a thing having never before been on earth	Z
How opposed to the instinct the law and the force	A2
Of nature and reason has been its whole course	A2
Thro' centuries encountering repugnance resistance	B2
Scorn hate execration yet still in existence	B2
Considering all this the conclusion he draws	E
Is that Nature exempts this one Church from her laws	E
That Reason dumb foundered gives up the dispute	C2
And before the portentous anomaly stands mute	C2
That in short 'tis a Miracle and once begun	D2
And transmitted thro' ages from father to son	D2
For the honor of miracles ought to go on	E2
	-
Never yet was conclusion so cogent and sound	F2
Or so fitted the Church's weak foes to confound	F2
For observe the more low all her merits they place	G2
The more they make out the miraculous case	G2
And the more all good Christians must deem it profane	H2
To disturb such a prodigy's marvellous reign	H2
	-
As for scriptural proofs he quite placed beyond doubt	I2
That the whole in the Apocalypse may be found out	I2
As clear and well proved he would venture to swear	K
As anything else has been ever found there	K
While the mode in which bless the dear fellow he deals	J2
With that whole lot of vials and trumpets and seals	J2
And the ease with which vial on vial he strings	K2
Shows him quite a first rate at all these sort of things	K2
	-
So much for theology as for the affairs	L2
Of this temporal world the light drawing room cares	L2
And gay toils of the toilet which God knows I seek	M2
From no love of such things but in humbleness meek	M2
And to be as the Apostle was weak with the weak	M2
Thou wilt find quite enough till I'm somewhat less busy	B
In the extracts inclosed my dear news loving Lizzy	B
	-
EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY	B
	-
Thursday	M
	-
Last night having naught more holy to do	G
Wrote a letter to dear Sir Andrew Agnew	G
About the Do nothing on Sunday club	N2
Which we wish by some shorter name to dub	N2
As the use of more vowels and Consonants	O2
Than a Christian on Sunday really wants	P2
Is a grievance that ought to be done away	M
And the Alphabet left to rest that day	M
	-
Sunday	M
	-
Sir Andrew's answer but shocking to say	M
Being franked unthinkingly yesterday	M
To the horror of Agnews yet unborn	Q2
It arrived on this blessed Sunday morn	Q2
How shocking the postman's self cried shame on't	B
Seeing the immaculate Andrew's name on't	B
What will the Club do meet no doubt	I2
'Tis a matter that touches the Class Devout	I2
And the friends of the Sabbath must speak out	I2
	-
Tuesday	B
	-
Saw to day at the raffle and saw it with pain	H2
That those stylish Fitzwigrams begin to dress plain	H2
Even gay little Sophy smart trimmings renounces	R2
She who long has stood by me thro' all sorts of flounces	R2
And showed by upholding the toilet's sweet rites	S2
That we girls may be Christians without being frights	S2
This I own much alarms me for tho' one's religious	S2
And strict and all that there's no need to be hideous	S2
And why a nice bonnet should stand in the way	M
Of one's going to heaven 'tisn't easy to say	M
	-
Then there's Gimp the poor thing if her custom we drop	T2
Pray what's to become of her soul and her shop	T2
If by saints like ourselves no more orders are given	D2
She'll lose all the interest she now takes in heaven	D2
And this nice little fire brand pluckt from the burning	W
May fall in again at the very next turning	W
	-
Wednesday	B
	-
Mem To write to the India Mission Society	B
And send heavy tax upon piety	B
	-
Of all Indian luxuries we now a days boast	U2
Making Company's Christians perhaps costs the most	U2
And the worst of it is that these converts full grown	V2
Having lived in our faith mostly die in their own	V2
Praying hard at the last to some god who they say	M
When incarnate on earth used to steal curds and whey	M
Think how horrid my dear so that all's thrown away	M
And what is still worse for the rum and the rice	S2
They consumed while believers we saints pay the price	S2
	-
Still 'tis cheering to find that we do save a few	G
The Report gives six Christians for Cunnangcadoo	U2
Doorkotchum reckons seven and four Trevandrum	L
While but one and a half's left at Cooroopadum	L
In this last mentioned place 'tis the barbers enslave 'em	L
For once they turn Christians no barber will shave 'em	L
	-
To atone for this rather small Heathen amount	U2
Some Papists turned Christians are tackt to the account	U2
And tho' to catch Papists one needn't go so far	W2
Such fish are worth hooking wherever they are	W2
And now when so great of such converts the lack is	S2
One Papist well caught is worth millions of Blackies	S2
	-
Friday	U2
	-
Last night had a dream so odd and funny	U2
I cannot resist recording it here	V
Methought that the Genius of Matrimony	U2
Before me stood with a joyous leer	V
Leading a husband in each hand	U2
And both for me which lookt rather queer	V
One I could perfectly understand	U2
But why there were two wasn't quite so clear	V
T'was meant however I soon could see	U2
To afford me a choice a most excellent plan	A
And who should this brace of candidates be	U2
But Messrs O'Mulligan and Magan	D2
A thing I suppose unheard of till then	X2
To dream at once of two Irishmen	X2
That handsome Magan too with wings on his shoulders	S2
For all this past in the realms of the Blest	U2
And quite a creature to dazzle beholders	S2
While even O'Mulligan feathered and drest	U2
As an elderly cherub was looking his best	U2
Ah Liz you who know me scarce can doubt	U2
As to which of the two I singled out	U2
But awful to tell when all in dread	U2
Of losing so bright a vision's charms	S2
I graspt at Magan his image fled	U2
Like a mist away and I found but the head	U2
Of O'Mulligan wings and all in my arms	S2
The Angel had flown to some nest divine	X2
And the elderly Cherub alone was mine	X2
	-
Heigho it is certain that foolish Magan	X2
Either can'tor won't see that he might be the man	X2
And perhaps dear who knows if naught better befall	Y2
But O'Mulligan may be the man after all	Y2
	-
N B	U2
	-
Next week mean to have my first scriptural rout	U2
For the special discussion of matters devout	U2
Like those soir es at Powerscourt so justly renowned	U2
For the zeal with which doctrine and negus went round	U2
Those theology routs which the pious Lord Roden	X2
That pink of Christianity first set the mode in	X2
Where blessed down pouring from tea until nine	X2
The subjects lay all in the Prophecy line	X2
Then supper and then if for topics hard driven	X2
From thence until bed time to Satan was given	X2
While Roden deep read in each topic and tome	L
On all subjects especially the last was at home	L