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Talleyrand to Lord Grenville[;] A Metric Epistle

As printed in Morning post for January 10, 1800

To the Editor of The Morning Post. MR. EDITOR,--An unmetrical letter from Talleyrand to Lord Grenville has already appeared, and from an authority too high to be questioned: otherwise I could adduce some arguments for the exclusive authenticity of the following metrical epistle. The very epithet which the wise ancients used, 'aurea carmina,' might have been supposed likely to have determined the choice of the French minister in favour of verse; and the rather when we recollect that this phrase of 'golden verses' is applied emphatically to the works of that philosopher who imposed silence on all with whom he had to deal. Besides is it not somewhat improbable that Talleyrand should have preferred prose to rhyme, when the latter alone has got the chink? Is it not likewise curious that in our official answer no notice whatever is taken of the Chief Consul, Bonaparte, as if there had been no such person [man Essays, [and] c., 1850] existing; notwithstanding that his existence is pretty generally admitted, nay that some have been so rash as to believe that he has created as great a sensation in the world as Lord Grenville, or even the Duke of Portland? But the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Talleyrand, is acknowledged, which, in our opinion, could not have happened had he written only that insignificant prose-letter, which seems to precede Bonaparte's, as in old romances a dwarf always ran before to proclaim the advent or arrival of knight or giant. That Talleyrand's character and practices more resemble those of some regular Governments than Bonaparte's I admit; but this of itself does not appear a satisfactory explanation. However, let the letter speak for itself. The second line is supererogative in syllables, whether from the oscitancy of the transcriber, or from the trepidation which might have overpowered the modest Frenchman, on finding himself in the act of writing to so great a man, I shall not dare to determine. A few Notes are added by Your servant, GNOME.

P.S.--As mottoes are now fashionable, especially if taken from out of the way books, you may prefix, if you please, the following lines from Sidonius Apollinaris:

'Saxa, et robora, corneasque fibras Mollit dulciloquâ canorus arte!'

TALLEYRAND, MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AT PARIS, TO LORD GRENVILLE, SECRETARY OF STATE IN GREAT BRITAIN FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS, AUDITOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, A LORD OF TRADE, AN ELDER BROTHER OF TRINITY HOUSE, ETC.

  1. 1My Lord! though your Lordship repel deviation
  2. 2From forms long establish'd, yet with high consideration,
  3. 3I plead for the honour to hope that no blame
  4. 4Will attach, should this letter begin with my name.
  5. 5I dar'd not presume on your Lordship to bounce,
  6. 6But thought it more exquisite first to announce!
  1. 7My Lord! I've the honour to be Talleyrand,
  2. 8And the letter's from me! you'll not draw back your hand
  3. 9Nor yet take it up by the rim in dismay,
  4. 10As boys pick up ha'pence on April fool-day.
  5. 11I'm no Jacobin foul, or red-hot Cordelier
  6. 12That your Lordship's ungauntleted fingers need fear
  7. 13An infection or burn! Believe me, 'tis true,
  8. 14With a scorn like another I look down on the crew
  9. 15That bawl and hold up to the mob's detestation
  10. 16The most delicate wish for a silent persuasion.
  11. 17A form long-establish'd these Terrorists call
  12. 18Bribes, perjury, theft, and the devil and all!
  13. 19And yet spite of all that the Moralist[341:1] prates,
  14. 20'Tis the keystone and cement of civilized States.
  15. 21Those American Reps![342:1] And i' faith, they were serious!
  16. 22It shock'd us at Paris, like something mysterious,
  17. 23That men who've a Congress--But no more of 't! I'm proud
  18. 24To have stood so distinct from the Jacobin crowd.
  1. 25My Lord! though the vulgar in wonder be lost at
  2. 26My transfigurations, and name me Apostate,
  3. 27Such a meaningless nickname, which never incens'd me,
  4. 28Cannot prejudice you or your Cousin against me:
  5. 29I'm Ex-bishop. What then? Burke himself would agree
  6. 30That I left not the Church--'twas the Church that left me.
  7. 31My titles prelatic I lov'd and retain'd,
  8. 32As long as what I meant by Prelate remain'd:
  9. 33And tho' Mitres no longer will pass in our mart,
  10. 34I'm episcopal still to the core of my heart.
  11. 35No time from my name this my motto shall sever:
  12. 36'Twill be Non sine pulvere palma for ever!
  1. 37Your goodness, my Lord, I conceive as excessive,
  2. 38Or I dar'd not present you a scroll so digressive;
  3. 39And in truth with my pen thro' and thro' I should strike it;
  4. 40But I hear that your Lordship's own style is just like it.
  5. 41Dear my Lord, we are right: for what charms can be shew'd
  6. 42In a thing that goes straight like an old Roman road?
  7. 43The tortoise crawls straight, the hare doubles about;
  8. 44And the true line of beauty still winds in and out.
  9. 45It argues, my Lord! of fine thoughts such a brood in us
  10. 46To split and divide into heads multitudinous,
  11. 47While charms that surprise (it can ne'er be denied us)
  12. 48Sprout forth from each head, like the ears from King Midas.
  13. 49Were a genius of rank, like a commonplace dunce,
  14. 50Compell'd to drive on to the main point at once,
  15. 51What a plentiful vintage of initiations[342:3]
  16. 52Would Noble Lords lose in your Lordship's orations.
  17. 53My fancy transports me! As mute as a mouse,
  18. 54And as fleet as a pigeon, I'm borne to the house
  19. 55Where all those who are Lords, from father to son,
  20. 56Discuss the affairs of all those who are none.
  21. 57I behold you, my Lord! of your feelings quite full,
  22. 58'Fore the woolsack arise, like a sack full of wool!
  23. 59You rise on each Anti-Grenvillian Member,
  24. 60Short, thick and blustrous, like a day in November!
  25. 61Short in person, I mean: for the length of your speeches
  26. 62Fame herself, that most famous reporter, ne'er reaches.
  27. 63Lo! Patience beholds you contemn her brief reign,
  28. 64And Time, that all-panting toil'd after in vain,
  29. 65(Like the Beldam who raced for a smock with her grand-child)
  30. 66Drops and cries: 'Were such lungs e'er assign'd to a man-child?'
  31. 67Your strokes at her vitals pale Truth has confess'd,
  32. 68And Zeal unresisted entempests your breast![343:2]
  33. 69Though some noble Lords may be wishing to sup,
  34. 70Your merit self-conscious, my Lord, keeps you up,
  35. 71Unextinguish'd and swoln, as a balloon of paper
  36. 72Keeps aloft by the smoke of its own farthing taper.
  37. 73Ye SIXTEENS of Scotland, your snuffs ye must trim;
  38. 74Your Geminies, fix'd stars of England! grow dim,
  39. 75And but for a form long-establish'd, no doubt
  40. 76Twinkling faster and faster, ye all would go out.
  1. 77Apropos, my dear Lord! a ridiculous blunder
  2. 78Of some of our Journalists caused us some wonder:
  3. 79It was said that in aspect malignant and sinister
  4. 80In the Isle of Great Britain a great Foreign Minister
  5. 81Turn'd as pale as a journeyman miller's frock coat is
  6. 82On observing a star that appear'd in BOOTES!
  7. 83When the whole truth was this (O those ignorant brutes!)
  8. 84Your Lordship had made his appearance in boots.
  9. 85You, my Lord, with your star, sat in boots, and the Spanish
  10. 86Ambassador thereupon thought fit to vanish.
  1. 87But perhaps, dear my Lord, among other worse crimes,
  2. 88The whole was no more than a lie of The Times.
  3. 89It is monstrous, my Lord! in a civilis'd state
  4. 90That such Newspaper rogues should have license to prate.
  5. 91Indeed printing in general--but for the taxes,
  6. 92Is in theory false and pernicious in praxis!
  7. 93You and I, and your Cousin, and Abbé Sieyes,
  8. 94And all the great Statesmen that live in these days,
  9. 95Are agreed that no nation secure is from vi'lence
  10. 96Unless all who must think are maintain'd all in silence.
  11. 97This printing, my Lord--but 'tis useless to mention
  12. 98What we both of us think--'twas a curséd invention,
  13. 99And Germany might have been honestly prouder
  14. 100Had she left it alone, and found out only powder.
  15. 101My Lord! when I think of our labours and cares
  16. 102Who rule the Department of foreign affairs,
  17. 103And how with their libels these journalists bore us,
  18. 104Though Rage I acknowledge than Scorn less decorous;
  19. 105Yet their presses and types I could shiver in splinters,
  20. 106Those Printers' black Devils! those Devils of Printers!
  21. 107In case of a peace--but perhaps it were better
  22. 108To proceed to the absolute point of my letter:
  23. 109For the deep wounds of France, Bonaparte, my master,
  24. 110Has found out a new sort of basilicon plaister.
  25. 111But your time, my dear Lord! is your nation's best treasure,
  26. 112I've intruded already too long on your leisure;
  27. 113If so, I entreat you with penitent sorrow
  28. 114To pause, and resume the remainder to-morrow.