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diff --git a/42299.txt b/42299.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ee70518..0000000 --- a/42299.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9515 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The History of Johnny Quae Genus, by William Combe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The History of Johnny Quae Genus - The Little Foundling of the Late Doctor Syntax. A Poem by - the Author of the Three Tours. - -Author: William Combe - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: March 10, 2013 [EBook #42299] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF JOHNNY QUAE GENUS *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Mary Akers and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE ILLUSTRATED POCKET LIBRARY - OF PLAIN AND COLOURED BOOKS - - THE HISTORY OF - JOHNNY QUAE GENUS - - - - - What various views of our uncertain State - These playful, unassuming Rhymes relate! - - ANON. - - - - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS on his JOURNEY To LONDON.] - - - - - THE HISTORY - OF - JOHNNY QUAE GENUS - - THE LITTLE FOUNDLING OF - THE LATE DOCTOR SYNTAX - A POEM BY THE AUTHOR OF - THE THREE TOURS - - WITH TWENTY-FOUR - COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS - BY THOMAS ROWLANDSON - - A NEW EDITION - - METHUEN & CO. - LONDON - 1903 - - - - -NOTE - -This Issue is founded on the Edition published by R. Ackermann in the -year 1822 - - - - -HISTORY - -OF - -QUAE GENUS, ETC. - - -The favour which has been bestowed on the different TOURS OF DOCTOR -SYNTAX, has encouraged the Writer of them to give a HISTORY OF THE -FOUNDLING, who has been thought an interesting Object in the latter of -those Volumes; and it is written in the same style and manner, with a -view to connect it with them. - -This Child of Chance, it is presumed, is led through a track of Life -not unsuited to the peculiarity of his Condition and Character, while -its varieties, as in the former Works, are represented by the Pencil -of MR. ROWLANDSON with its accustomed characteristic Felicity. - -The Idea of an English GIL BLAS predominated through the whole of this -Volume; which must be considered as fortunate in no common degree, if -its readers, in the course of their perusal, should be disposed to -acknowledge even a remote Similitude to the incomparable Work of _Le -Sage_. - - The AUTHOR. - - - - -PREFACE - - -This prolonged work is, at length, brought to a close.--It has grown -to this size, under rare and continuing marks of public favour; while -the same mode of Composition has been employed in the last, as in the -former Volumes. They are all equally indebted to MR. ROWLANDSON'S -talents. - -It may, perhaps, be considered as presumption in me, and at my age, to -sport even with my own Dowdy Muse, but, from the extensive patronage -which DOCTOR SYNTAX has received, it may be presumed that, more or -less, he has continued to amuse: And I, surely, have no reason to be -dissatisfied, when Time points at my eightieth Year, that I can still -afford some pleasure to those who are disposed to be pleased. - - The AUTHOR. - - _May 1, 1821._ - - - - -LIST OF THE PLATES - - - Journey to London _To face the Title_ - In search of Service _To face p._ 13 - Relating his History to Sir Jeffery " 17 - At Oxford " 42 - Conflict with Lawyer Gripe-all " 44 - With the Sheep-Shearers " 59 - Assisting a Traveller " 63 - In the Sports of the Kitchen " 75 - In the Service of Sir Jeffery Gourmand " 81 - With a Quack Doctor " 139 - With a Spendthrift " 150 - Attending on a Sporting Finale " 162 - In the Service of a Miser " 174 - With the Money Lenders " 179 - Officiating at a Gaming Table " 180 - With a Portrait Painter " 188 - Gives a Grand Party " 201 - Interrupts a Tete a Tete " 203 - Committed with a riotous Dancing Party - to the Watch-House " 212 - Engaged with Jovial Friends, - or who sings best " 214 - The Party breaking up and - QUAE GENUS breaking down " 220 - Turned out of a House which - he mistakes for his own " 222 - With Creditors " 229 - Discovers his Father " 248 - - - - -THE HISTORY - -OF - -JOHNNY QUAE GENUS - -OR - -The Foundling of Doctor Syntax - - - - -CANTO I - - - Johnny Quae Genus! what a name - To offer to the voice of Fame! - (Though she 'tis hop'd may condescend - To act as Little Johnny's friend) - This may be said, when first the eye - Does, by a careless glance, descry - The striking range of marshall'd words - Which a gay TITLE-PAGE affords. - But what's a name, as SHAKESPEARE says, - It neither gives nor lessens praise; - Adds no fresh odour to the rose, - Nor any other flower that blows: - Whether with rare or common name - The fragrance will be just the same. - 'Tis not a title can confer - The good or ill of character, - _HOWARDS_ have been both beat and bang'd, - And some with ancient names been hang'd: - Look at a ship with convicts stor'd - What noble names are oft on board! - It is the living, current course - Or of the better or the worse, - That stamps, whate'er may be the name, - Or with a good or evil fame. - But howsoe'er the thing we view - Our little Johnny's title's new: - Or for the child or for the man, - In an old phrase, 'tis _spick_ and _span_. - - Besides, as most folk do agree - To find a charm in novelty, - 'Tis the first time that Grammar rule - Which makes boys tremble when at school, - Did with the name an union crave - Which at the font a sponsor gave. - But whether 'twas in hum'rous mood - Or by some classic whim pursued, - Or as, in Eton's Grammar known, - It bore relation to his own, - Syntax, it was at Whitsuntide, - And a short time before he died, - In pleasant humour, after dinner, - Surnam'd, in wine, the little sinner. - And thus, amid the table's roar, } - Gave him from good, old _Lilly's_ store, } - A name which none e'er had before. } - --'Squire Worthy, who, perchance was there, - Promis'd the Doctor's wish to share, - That want, at least might not annoy - The progress of the Foundling Boy. - "--Syntax," He said, "We'll try between us - To make the fortune of QUAE GENUS: - You feed his mind with learning's food, - And I'll protect him if he's good." - "While I," said smiling _Dickey Bend_, - "Will add my mite as _Johnny's_ friend; - Nor shall he want the scraps of knowledge - Which he can pick up at my College." - --Thus, as they did the bumper ply - To Johnny's future destiny, - The warm, almost parental heart - Of Mrs. Syntax bore its part; - And her cheek wore a smile of joy - As she beheld th' unconscious boy, - Who, careless of the kind debate, - Play'd with the cherries on his plate. - - But such is life's uncertain hour, - And such is fate's tyrannic power, - That while our comforts smile around - The fatal dart inflicts the wound: - Thus e'er another month was past - Syntax, alas! had breath'd his last. - Whene'er he heard the widow sigh - QUAE GENUS wept he scarce knew why: - Of a kind friend fate had bereft him, - And an odd name was all he left him. - His urchin fancy only thought - As his enquiring mind was taught, - That his adopted sire was gone - Where the good go to worlds unknown, - To happy regions plac'd on high - Above the blue and starry sky, - Where, he was with the hope endued, - That he should go, if he were good. - - But the good lady took him home - And kept him many a year to come; - When he grew up a charming youth, - In whom simplicity and truth - Did o'er his ev'ry thought preside; - While, with such an anxious guide, - Life smil'd and seem'd to promise fair, - That it would answer to the care - Which her affection had bestow'd, - To set him on his future road: - But when she died poor John was hurl'd - Into a bustling, tricking world. - He had, 'tis true, all she could leave; - She gave him all there was to give; - Of all she had she made him heir, - But left it to a lawyer's care: - No wonder then that he was cheated - And her fond anxious hopes defeated: - So that instead of his possessing - The fruits of her last, dying blessing; - He had, as it turn'd out, to rue } - What foul rascality could do; } - And his own wild vagaries too. } - - Here, gentle reader, here begins - The account of our young Hero's sins: - But all which thus far form'd his fate, - QUAE GENUS will himself relate, - And what truth bids him to rehearse, - My hum-strum Muse records in verse. - - Thus I proceed,--my humble strain } - Has hap'ly pleas'd.----I may be vain,-- } - But still it hopes to please again. } - - * * * * * - - In this great overwhelming town, - Certain receptacles are known, - Where both the sexes shew their faces - To boast their talents and get places: - Not such as kings and courts can give, - Not such as noble folk receive, - But those which yield their useful aid - To common wants or gen'ral trade, - Or finely furbish out the show - That fashion does on life bestow. - Here those who want them may apply - For toiling powers and industry, - On whom the nervous strength's bestow'd - To urge the wheel or bear the load. - Here all who want, may pick and chuse - Each service of domestic use: - The laundry, kitchen, chamber, dairy, - May always find an Ann or Mary, - While in th' accommodating room, - He who wants coachman, footman, groom, - Or butler staid, may come and have, - With such as know to dress and shave. - --The art and skill may here be sought - In ev'ry thing that's sold and bought, - In all the well spread counter tells - Of knowledge keen in yards and ells; - Adepts in selling and in buying - And perfect in the modes of lying; - Who flatter misses in their teens, - And harangue over bombazeens, - Can, in glib words, nor fear detection, - Arrange each colour to complexion: - Can teach the beau the neckcloth's tie, - With most becoming gravity; - Or with a consequential air, - Turn up the collar to a hair. - --Besides, your nice shop-women too, - May at a call be brought to view, - Who, with swift fingers, so bewitching, - Are skill'd in ev'ry kind of stitching; - Can trim the hat, arrange the bonnet, - And place the tasty ribbon on it. - In short, here all to service bound, - May in their various shapes be found. - --From such who may display their charms, - By smirking looks and active arms, - To those in kitchen under ground - Amid black pots and kettles found: - From such as teach the early rules, - Or in the male or female schools, - To those of an inferior breed, - Who ne'er have known to write or read: - From those who do the laws perplex - In toil at an attorney's desk, - To such as pass their busy lives - In cleaning shoes or cleaning knives. - To these, perhaps, an added score } - Might swell the tiresome list or more, } - But here description says, "give o'er." } - - In such enregistering shop - One morn a figure chanc'd to pop; - (But here I beg it may be guess'd, - Of these same shops it was the best, - His hat was rather worse for wear, } - His clothing, too, was somewhat bare, } - His boots might say, "we've travell'd far." } - His left hand an umbrella bore - And something like a glove he wore: - Clean was his very sun-burnt skin - Without a long hair on his chin, - While his lank face, in ev'ry feature, - Proclaim'd a keen, discerning nature; - And when he spoke there was an air } - Of something not quite common there: } - His manner good, his language fair. } - A double cape of curious make, - Fell from his shoulders down his back, - As if art did the folds provide - A very awkward hump to hide; - But, if 'twere so, the cunning fail'd, - For still the treach'rous bunch prevail'd. - - By chatting here and talking there, - He did his curious mind prepare - With all the means by which to gain - The end his wishes would obtain;-- - Then with half-humble, solemn face, - He sought the ruler of the place, - Who boasted an establish'd fame, - And _Sharpsight_ was his well-known name. - But ere we in our way proceed - To tell of many a future deed, - It may, we doubt not, be as well, - To save all guess-work, just to tell, - Of the part now upon the stage - QUAE GENUS was the personage. - Fortune's dark clouds, for some time past - That learned title had o'ercast, - And he had borrow'd names in plenty, - He might have gone by more than twenty; - But now arriv'd in this great town } - Without a fear of being known } - He thought he might assume his own: } - And he had weighty reasons too - For what he was about to do, - Which, we believe, a future page - Will reconcile as reasons sage. - At length his statement he began, - When thus the conversation ran. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS, IN SEARCH OF SERVICE.] - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "'Tis the first time I e'er applied - To ask your counsel for my guide: - But strange events have brought me here, - And at your desk I now appear, - But not without the means to pay, - For all you do and all you say. - And here, good Sir, there's no concealing - We must be cautious in our dealing: - I want employment that will give - Means to be honest and to live. - Such is my warm, heart-felt desire, - Such is the boon I now require,-- - And if you do my wishes aid, - I tell you Sir,--_you shall be PAID_." - - Sticking his pen behind his ear - And with a keen enquiring leer, - _Sharpsight_ the curious figure view'd, - And thus the important talk pursued. - - -SHARPSIGHT. - - "In answer to your just desire, - Permit me fairly to enquire, - Which to my ledger is transmitted, - For what your qualities are fitted? - And, in good faith, I wish to know, - What you have done, and what can do? - Nay, to whose word I may refer - For your good name and character. - Such is essential to the case, - Such are the first steps to a place, - Of whate'er kind that place may be, - Whether of high or low degree; - Without them no access to station, - No character, no situation. - --What you assert, you say is true, - I'm sure, my friend, I wish so too: - For what you ask, as you describe, - Is ask'd by all the serving tribe: - 'Tis that to which they all pretend, - But those I never can commend - In honour to my own good name, } - And to this room's establish'd fame, } - But what the rigid truth may claim. } - Though as you look this place around, - But common folk are to be found: - Coachmen who sit without a whip; - Footmen, without a call to skip; - Gardeners who have lost their spade, - And Journeymen without a trade; - Clerks whose pens have long been idle; - With grooms quite dull, who ask a bridle; - Cooks who exclaim for roast and boil'd, - And nurs'ry-maids without a child; - Young, sprightly girls who long to clamber - From drawing-rooms to upper chamber, - Ready the drudg'ry to assail - Of scrubbing-brush, and mop and pail; - Stout porters who for places tarry, - Whose shoulders ache for loads to carry; - But character they must maintain, - Or here they come, and pay in vain. - In short, were I to count them o'er, - I could name twenty kinds or more, - Who patient and impatient wait - About this busy, crowded gate. - --But you might higher claimants see - Within this crowded registry, - Who do not at the desk appear, - Nor e'er are seen in person here; - But they are charged a larger fee, - Both for success and secrecy. - Thus you must see how much depends, - To gain your object and your ends, - That you should truly let me know - What you have done,--what you can do; - And I, once more, beg to refer - To your good name and character." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "I do profess I can engage - With noble, simple, and with sage. - Though young as yet, I've been so hurl'd - About what you would call the world, - That well I know it, yet 'tis true, - I can be very honest too. - --Of the good name which you demand, - I tell you--I've not one at hand. - Of friends, I once had ample store, - But those fair, prosp'rous days are o'er, - And I must mourn it to my cost - That friends are dead, and gone, and lost; - But if to conscience 'tis referr'd, - My conscience says, Sir, take his word. - --Of character, though I have none, - Perhaps, Sir, I can purchase one: - I, from a corner of my coat, - May just pluck out a pretty note; - Which, with a view to gain an end, - Might, in an urgent want, befriend. - Now, if to place me, you contrive, } - Where I may have a chance to thrive; } - I'll give this note, if I'm alive. } - It may be rather worth your while; - Perhaps it may awake a smile." - - _Sharpsight_ appear'd to look astray, - But still he took a glance that way. - "I'm not," he said, "to be beguil'd;" - Though when he glanc'd that way, he _smil'd_, - And, turning to the other side, - In a calm, soften'd tone replied. - - -SHARPSIGHT. - - "Here money is not that way earn'd, - My reputation is concern'd; - But still I can my duty do, - And strive to be a friend to you. - _Sir Jeff'ry Gourmand_ you may suit; - A Knight renown'd, of high repute, - As all who know his name can tell, - For being rich and living well; - A gen'rous man, but full of whim, - And you may be the thing for him: - In such a way your case I'll mention - As shall awaken his attention. - And now, my worthy friend, I pray, - Mind well what I'm about to say: - Without a creature to refer - Or for good name or character, - And in a state which seems to be - Involv'd in awkward mystery; - And I shall add, with your excuse - For the remark which I must use, - That either accident or nature - Has, on your back, plac'd such a feature, - That were you e'en my dearest friend, - I dare not such an one commend - To any lady worth a groat, - Unless to serve the dame for nought. - --Just turn around, and you may see - A Lady in deep scrutiny, - With a nice quizzing-glass in hand, - Glancing across a liv'ried band; - And once a month she does appear - On this domestic errand here. - If of a maid she wants the use, - Her woman comes to pick and chuse; - But if a man,--she is so nice, - She comes herself to make the choice. - A widow rich, who gives high wages, - If they should please, whom she engages: - But he must be of such a size, - And look so well in her keen eyes, - That she scarce one in twenty sees - Fit to wear her rich liveries. - There's one who has a squinting eye-- - I know full well she'll pass him by; - On one poor rogue she'll turn her back - Because his frightful beard is black; - Another will not eat her bread - Because his frizzled crop is red; - These are too weak,--and those too strong, - And some an inch too short or long: - She'll take the best-made of the bunch, - But would be fainting at a hunch. - --Thus then, according to my plan, - _Sir Jeff'ry Gourmand_ is the man; - But to his questions pray reply - Without the veil of mystery: - Your story from your very youth, - If he should ask it--tell the truth; - Your errors fail not to unfold-- - In telling them be firm, be bold; - While you your better virtues own, - E'en let your mischiefs all be known, - But let not folly blazen forth - Whate'er you have of conscious worth; - Express the ill with down-cast eye, - And veil the good with modesty; - Though, if you can with prudence poke - Into your tale a funny joke, - Fear not, 'tis what his humour loves, - As his own daily chit-chat proves; - And while he does his bev'rage quaff, - At what he says--be sure you laugh. - But should you not his service suit, - He will not play the churlish brute; - And if not gone too far astray, - May serve you in some other way. - Thus you must see I do my best-- - To Fortune I shall leave the rest: - But now I see _Sir Jeff'ry_ enter, - And I must leave you to your venture." - - _Sharpsight_ then after humbly greeting - This huge man-mountain of good eating, - For a few minutes in his ear, - Told that which he alone could hear. - The Knight then cast a curious eye - On Johnny, who was standing by, - And just enquir'd from whence he came, - What was his age, and what his name; - Whom he had serv'd, and why he left - The place of which he was bereft? - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS READING TO SIR JEFFERY GOURMAND.] - -QUAE GENUS. - - "If, Sir, it were not thought too free, - If I might take the liberty, - I would not wish you here to wait - While I my strange condition state, - As it would take an hour or more, - My various story to explore; - Tho' 'tis not such, that I should - fear The tale to tell or you to hear: - You, who will kind allowance make - For wants that press, and hearts that ache, - And passions that restraint disdain - When justice sues, and sues in vain; - And 'tis to that tale I refer - For name, for age and character, - Whom I have serv'd, and what the scene - Where my frail manhood's years have been: - And if you will but condescend - To my young hist'ry to attend, - And will not the fond hope deny me, - That you, good Sir, will take and try me, - And let my rude, misgotten shape - From your observance to escape, - You will command,--I will obey; - When you may see from day to day, - How far, Sir, I may make pretence - To your good grace and confidence." - - "Then be it so," the Knight replied, - "I trust I may be satisfied. - I'm told there's something droll about you, - But droll'ry will not make me scout you; - Nor do I mind, my friend, the pack, - Which you now wear upon your back: - We're rather equal on that score-- - Your's is behind, and mine's before; - Nay, when of both I take a view, - Mine is the larger of the two." - - QUAE GENUS, with a ready grace, - Lifted his hat to hide his face; - But still he so arrang'd the screen - That his gay visage might be seen; - Which seem'd to burst as from the hit - Of the fat Knight's spontaneous wit, - Who chuckled first, and then made known - His further will to laughing John. - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "Be punctual;--at the hour of ten - We will, to-morrow, meet again; - When I will hear, without delay, - The whole which you have got to say: - But know, you will offend my feeling - If you should shuffle from plain dealing. - I'm serious now:--on that depends, - How far we may continue friends." - - QUAE GENUS fail'd not, at the hour, - To pass _Sir Jeff'ry's_ chamber door; - Where, seated in a cushion'd chair - As large as some post-chaises are, - And though it may be strange to tell, - The Knight contriv'd to fill it well; - He seem'd attentive to peruse - The pages of the daily news: - When, with a look and with a loll, - As if he thought on something droll, - And in a sort of pleasant glee, - He thus commenc'd the colloquy.-- - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "First, I must ask to know your name, - Your parentage, and whence you came; - And when these trifling things are past, - The master whom you liv'd with last." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "QUAE GENUS, is the name I bear." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "QUAE GENUS? 'tis a name so rare, - It never met my ear or eye, - If I can trust my memory. - I mean the surname that you own, - By which your family is known: - Not what your sponsor's pedant hammer - Beat into use from Lilly's grammar. - I want your father's name."-- - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "'Twere well! - If I that honour'd name could tell; - I must suppose that such a creature - Was form'd in her own way, by Nature! - That I had parents must be true; - A father and a mother too, - But who they were I never heard, - Nor has the secret yet appear'd: - They're known to Heaven,--but to me - My birth's a perfect mystery: - Though this I'm sure that I can tell-- - It was not worth a miracle." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "By whom, then, was QUAE GENUS given?" - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "By one who is a saint in Heaven; - If ever mortal beings go - To bliss above, from ills below: - This I believe, nay I would swear, - That such is his allotment there; - And I would kiss the book I trow, - The holy book that tells me so. - A Grammar Title was his own, - And therefore 'twas--he gave me one: - 'Twas DOCTOR SYNTAX, and I'm proud - That 'tis to him the name I ow'd." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "I knew him not, but this I know, - What pleasure to his works I owe; - And you will meet my partial whim-- - Prove that you e'er belong'd to him. - Treasur'd within that curtain'd case, - His works possess a favour'd place; - And if the binding aught can tell, - They show that I respect them well. - Go, take a volume down, and look-- - Perhaps, my friend, you know the book." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "I know it well, as you will see, - It tells my infant history: - This leaf will partly save the task - Of answ'ring what you're pleas'd to ask. - That little infant whom you see } - In basket laid,--that, Sir, is me, } - Now grown to sad maturity. } - --It was within an Inn of Court, - Where busy Lawyers plead and sport; - Upon those stairs and thus enclos'd, - My new-born figure was expos'd. - Of mercy they had little share } - Whose cruel purpose plac'd me there, } - And left me to the Lawyer's care; } - For, had th' Attorney been in town, - Who did those very chambers own, - I doubt what might have been my fate: - The thing was strange--the hour was late; - The work-house might be distant far, - And dubious been the nursings there. - But one, perchance, possess'd the floor - When I was laid beside the door, - Who would have felt a crying sin - Had he not ta'en the stranger in. - When I this pictur'd figure view, - So innocent--so helpless too, - A smile's contending with a tear, - On seeing what I now appear: - A pretty figure for a casket,-- - A little Falstaff in the basket." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "Further of this you need not tell, - I know the curious story well; - At least as far as there appears - In what regards your infant years, - And all that did your fate betide, - Till your good friend the Doctor died. - --But now,--Of _Masters_ name the last - Whom you have serv'd for some time past." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "_Masters_, an' please you, I had none, - And _Mistresses_, I had but one: - Indeed, Sir, it may not be civil, - But O, she is a very devil, - Which I am sure you will allow - Soon as you come her name to know, - Tho' oft and oft, and o'er and o'er, - You must have heard it spoke before, - But not in any pressing hour - Have you been subject to her power. - It might not be a thing of course - But I her servant was perforce, - For sure as my name is QUAE GENUS - There seem'd a contract made between us; - And her sad service I must rue, - If I come not to live with you; - With her I must continue still, - If it proves not your gen'rous will, - To receive me, Sir, from her - With what she gives of character, - For she sometimes can make pretence - To ask heart-felt benevolence." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "This is most strange, I do declare! } - But pray what figure did she bear } - While you th' unwilling servant were?" } - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "An ever-varying form she wore, - As ever changeful Proteus bore: - But or in motion she, or still; - Her ev'ry hour is mark'd with ill. - She looks best pleas'd when sorrow flows, - She can disdain when virtue bows: - Labour and penury and pain - And sad disease compose her train, - While vain complaint and discontent - Form her pale-fac'd establishment." - - SIR JEFF'RY now let loose a smile - As if some fancy did beguile - And play upon his easy thought, - With light, amusive mischief fraught; - And this sarcastic question prov'd - The pleasantry _Sir Jeff'ry_ lov'd. - "When she was in a spiteful humour, - What said she of that _pretty tumour_? - The which without a wish to pry, - Must sometimes meet her wand'ring eye. - Did she ne'er stroke your circling back, - Nor e'er salute it with a smack; - Or when she was dispos'd to sneer - Compare it to a Hemisphere, - Deck it with sun and moon and stars, - With Venus, Mercury and Mars, - Or cover with her liv'ry's robe - The Continents of half the Globe; - Or like an Atlas, did she flout you - As you bore half the world about you, - When you might show it as a sight, - And gain no common profit by't; - Blend with the Panorama's skill, - In all the pride of printed bill, - Deliver'd with a ready hand - Through Leic'ster-fields or in the Strand." - - The Knight's loud laughter then succeeded,-- - And Johnny laughing too, proceeded. - - "How happy you who thus can joke - And wrap me in your funny cloak, - Nay, when your mirth, Sir, may think fit, - Can fill my crooked back with wit; - Can even make me almost proud, - Of that self-same prepost'rous load. - You may, perhaps, be not aware, - But 'tis the truth which I declare, - I would serve you for half the wages - Which common servitude engages, - Provided you would pay the rest - In such nice puns and merry jest; - I would with joy sign the receipt, - For half in cash, and half in wit." - - "Well, well, go on," _Sir Jeff'ry_ said, - While his glad, twinkling eyes betray'd, - How much QUAE GENUS pleas'd his fancy - At this so flatt'ring necromancy. - --While the Knight his cold coffee quaffing, - But still at his own fancies laughing, - Exclaim'd, "proceed, but be it known, } - I wish the lady's hist'ry done, } - And then you will conclude your own." } - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "When she first knew me she could see - A form as strait as poplar tree, - Then I was ruddy, fair and plump, - Nor was my back crown'd with a hump, - Of which you may not be aware, - For hang the hag, she plac'd it there, - And you, good Sir, shall shortly know, - How to her power the gift I owe." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "The more I hear, the more I see, - The more you deal in mystery. - This Mistress, sure, of which you tell, - Is an INCOMPREHENSIBLE! - A widow she, or is she wedded? - Or e'er by blushing Hymen bedded?" - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "O no, Sir, no.--She is more common - Than is the worst street-walking woman. - There's scarce a mortal about town - To whom this Mistress is not known; - And if the track I should pursue, - I might add in the country too. - But 'tis a keen wit that unravels - The wide extent of all her travels; - Nor time nor space has she to spare, - She's here and there and ev'ry where. - Though if I at a guess may venture - Beneath this roof she will not enter, - Unless, as you the chance may see, - The saucy minx comes here with me." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "But one more question I've to ask, - Ere you perform your promis'd task, - And tell me from all shuffling free, - The items of your history, - Up to the moment when you stand - A candidate for my command. - And now QUAE GENUS tell the name - Of this same universal dame, - Whom you, poor fellow, have been serving, - And, as you state it, almost starving. - --If in your tale she does agree, - It is a tale of mystery; - Some fairy fable, I suppose, - That paints, in emblems, human woes, - And does in figur'd words, apply - To your peculiar history. - It is not in the usual way - That such as you their state display; - It is not in such borrow'd guise - That they unfold their histories, - With here and there a little bit - Of droll'ry to shew off their wit; - It is not in this form I see - Those who may wear my livery; - But your's I feel a diff'rent case - From those who come to seek a place; - Or when the register may send him, - With, 'Sir, we beg to recommend him.' - I now bethink me of the sage - Who lov'd you in your tender age; - And when I see you have a claim } - To share the page that marks his fame, } - SYNTAX, that highly honour'd name } - A passport is, my good QUAE GENUS, - To the familiar talk between us. - From that relation which you share, - No longer stand, but take a chair, - And now proceed, without delay, - To close the tale in your own way. - - "And once again, I ask the name - Of this so universal dame; - What is her fortune,--where she lives, - And the strange means by which she thrives? - Where she acquires her wond'rous power, - Which you describe, o'er ev'ry hour? - Where it began, my curious friend; - Then tell me, pray, when it will end." - - With due respect, as was requir'd, - He took the chair for he was tir'd, - And calling truth to be his guide, - He thus in solemn tone replied. - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "MISS-FORTUNE is the name she bears, - Her rent-roll's form'd of sighs and tears: - She doth not live or here or there, - I fear, Sir, she lives ev'ry where. - I'm sure that I know not the ground - Where her sad influence is not found; - But if a circle should appear } - Beyond her arbitrary sphere, } - I feel and hope, Sir, it is here. } - --This worn-out coat, Sir, which you see, - Is the kind Lady's livery: - I once was fat, but now am thin, - Made up of nought but bone and skin; - I once was large but now am small, - From feeding in her servants'-hall, - And the hump I shall ever bear - Is an example of her care. - As for the blessed Dame's beginning, - I've heard that it began in sinning, - And I have learn'd that she will end - When this vile world has learn'd to mend; - But if we guess when that may be, - We may guess to eternity." - - "MISS-FORTUNE!! Heav'ns! O thus she's nam'd," - The Knight, with uplift eyes exclaim'd. - "O the dull head, not to have seen - What the _Finale_ must have been!" - Then clasping hands and chuckling first - Into a bellowing laugh he burst, - Though not to his broad face confin'd, - But on each side, before, behind, - It seem'd as if his whimsies bound him, - In a joyous circle round him: - His belly trembles, his sides ache, - And the great-chair scarce stands the shake. - 'Twas a hoarse, deep bass, note of mirth, - To which his fancy thus gave birth; - And Johnny fail'd not to come after - An octave higher in his laughter, - While his delight appear'd to speak - In somewhat of a treble squeak.-- - Thus, for some minutes they enjoy'd - The _Duo_ which their nerves employ'd. - - _Sir Jeff'ry_ shook his head awhile, - Then spoke with a complacent smile. - - "Though in a diff'ring point of view, } - I know her just as well as you; } - And hang the hag she plagues me too. } - Need I, good fellow, need I tell ye, - She deck'd me out with this great belly; - 'Tis she, by way of friendly treat, - Has given this pair of gouty feet; - Nay sometimes when her whim commands - _Miss-Fortune_ robs me of my hands: - 'Tis she with her intention vile - That makes me overflow with bile; - And tho' my table's spread with plenty - Of ev'ry nice and costly dainty, - She sometimes envies me a bite, - And takes away my appetite. - She does not meddle with my wealth, - But then she undermines my health; - She never in my strong box looks, - Nor pries into my banker's books; - My ample fortune I contrive - To guard with care and make it thrive, - I check her power to destroy it, - But then she says, 'you sha'n't enjoy it; - I will take care you shall endure - The ills and pains gold cannot cure.' - Or leagu'd with wrinkled age at least, - She strives to interrupt the feast. - --But with her malice I contend, - Where she's a foe, I'm oft a friend, - And, with the weapons I can wield, - I sometimes drive her from the field. - Nay when she does the victim clasp, - I snatch it from her cruel grasp. - And thus you see, or more or less, - I make her prove my happiness." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "There was indeed a time when I - Knew her but by warm sympathy - With those who did her burthen bear, - Which I have since been forc'd to share; - But this, at least, I'm pleas'd to own, - And 'tis a truth to you well known, - Nay, this I'll say, in others' breast, - Where'er the virtue is possess'd, - She does, as I have felt, and see, - Awake benign Humanity." - - -SIR JEFFERY. - - "And she shall 'wake it now, QUAE GENUS! - An instant contract's made between us. - I break that which she made with you, - And gladly you abjure it too. - I have no doubt, my friend, to venture; - Into my service you shall enter, - Your ills at present shall be o'er, - _Miss-Fortune_ you shall serve no more. - At least, I say, while you contrive - By your good deeds with me to live: - I'll save you from your late disaster - And change your mistress for a master. - I want no bowings, no grimaces, - No blessings that I've chang'd your places. - --I now remind you to relate - All that has been your various fate, - Nay, all that you have ever known, - Since time and freedom were your own. - --I tell you, _Johnny_, speak the truth; - I know what follies wait on youth: - I know where erring passion leads, - On what a slipp'ry ground it treads: - I can remember that I fail'd - When the gay, tempting world prevail'd; - Nor shall I now the thought conceal, - Which reason tells me to reveal. - What Heaven forgives should be forgiven - By all who look with hope tow'rds Heaven: - But I expect not faults alone, } - I trust in what you may have done, } - There may work out a little fun. } - --If I guess right your lively eye } - Was not exactly made to cry, } - But sometimes call forth pleasantry; } - Of diff'ring thoughts to ope the vein, - Let pleasure forth or lessen pain. - But still do not your mischiefs hide, - Throughout your tale, be truth your guide; - Nor make _Miss-Fortune_ though she starves, - Worse, by the bye, than she deserves, - For after all her misdeeds past, - The Dame may do you good at last. - --Deceive me, and you will offend, - Deceive me, and you lose a friend: - Try to deceive me and again - You'll join _Miss-Fortune's_ pale-fac'd train. - Proceed then, and, without a fear, } - Pour thy misdoings in my ear } - And I will with indulgence hear. } - I'll not discard you for the evil, - Though you should prove a little devil, - Though to your hump you should not fail, - To add your horns and hoofs and tail; - Though you should prove a bag of sin, - And hump'd without be hump'd within, - Here you shall have your home, your food; - Kick at _Miss-Fortune_, and be good." - - He spoke, then rang the shrill-ton'd bell, - Which did its well-known message tell.-- - A tray appear'd, and well prepar'd, - Which _Johnny_ with _Sir Jeff'ry_ shar'd. - When, waving his beflannell'd hand, - The knight thus utter'd his command. - "And now, thou little Imp of Sin, - Without a compliment begin." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "The Volume that now lies before ye, - Tells you thus far, Sir, of my story; - Which would be upon this occasion - A work of supererogation; - Though I shall beg leave to repeat, - I'm not the new-born of the street; - But as it never yet appear'd, - At least, as I have ever heard, - To such unknown, unfather'd heirs, - I am a Foundling of _the stairs_, - Without a mark upon the dress, - By which there might be form'd a guess, - Whether I should the offspring prove - Of noble or of vulgar love; - Whether thus left in Inn of Court - Where Lawyers live of ev'ry sort; - Love in a deep full-bottom clad, - Gave me a grave black-letter'd dad, - Who, if 'twere so, might not agree - To have a child without a fee; - And, therefore, would not plead my cause, - But left me to the vagrant laws - Of chance, who did not do amiss, - But sued in _Forma Pauperis_, - And, in a Court where Mercy reign'd, - The little Foundling's cause was gain'd: - SYNTAX was judge, and pity's power - Sav'd me in that forsaken hour. - He with that truly Christian spirit, - Which Heaven gave him to inherit, - Fondly embrac'd me as his own; - But ere three transient years were gone, - I lost my friend, but found another, - A father he, and she, a mother; - For such at least they both have prov'd, - And as their child the stranger lov'd. - O, rest her soul!--to her 'tis given - To share his happy lot in Heaven. - I seem'd to be her utmost pride, - And Johnny trotting by her side, - Fill'd with delight her glancing eye - In warm affection's sympathy. - This fond, this kind, this fost'ring friend - Did to my ev'ry want attend; - Her only fault, she rather spoil'd - As he grew up, the darling child; - But though her care was not confin'd - Or to his body, or his mind, - Though, with a fond parental view, - She gave to both th' attention due, - Ne'er would she her displeasure fix - On his most wild, unlucky tricks. - So that at church he held grave airs, - Pronounc'd Amen, and said his pray'rs, - And on a Sunday evening read - A sermon ere they went to bed, - Throughout the week, he was quite free - For mischief with impunity. - --If on the folk I squirted water, - How she would shake her sides with laughter; - If the long-rotten eggs were thrown - At Mary, Sally, or at Joan; - If any stinging stuff was put - Into the hasty trav'ller's boot; - If the sly movement of the heel - Should overturn the spinning-wheel. - --If holly plac'd beside the rose - Should wound the gay sheep-shearer's nose, - Or 'neath the tail a thorn-bush pricking, - Should set Dame Dobbins' mare a kicking, - And overthrow the market load, - While beans and peas o'erspread the road, - If the poor injur'd made complaint - To Madam of her wily saint, - She would reply, 'pray cease your noise, - These are the tricks of clever boys, - It is my pleasant Johnny's fun, - Tell me the damage, and have done.' - --When I became a rosy boy, - My growth encreas'd her growing joy; - But now such gamesome hours were o'er - I play'd my childish tricks no more. - My little heart 'gan to beat high, - And with heroic ardor try - The tempting danger to pursue, - And do what others could not do: - I sought to climb the highest tree, - Where none would dare to follow me, - Or the gay sporting horse to ride, - Which no school-fellow dare bestride. - My feats were sometimes rather scaring, - But the Dame lov'd to see me daring; - As by my running, leaping, walking, - I us'd to set the parish talking, - And, to the good old women's wonder, - I fear'd not lightning nor thunder. - She thought, in future time, my name } - By some achievement bold, might claim } - A loud blast in the trump of fame. } - - "When, as a youth, how great the charm - To lean upon his willing arm, - Or when she wish'd to take the air, - To guide her poney in the chair; - To fetch her book, to place her stool, - Or bear the _laden ridicule:_ - To chat, to laugh, to sing, to read, - As whims or wishes might succeed: - And I am proud to make it known - Her ev'ry pleasure was my own; - And all to please her I could do, - Was joy, as it was duty too. - - "Here now my better story ends-- - So far, I trust, Sir, we are friends: - But I could almost wish me dumb, - When I must tell of what's to come." - - _Sir Jeffery_, half-laughing, said, - "_Johnny_, I pray, be not afraid, - Whate'er your luckless wit has done, - I swear I will set down in fun; - By me, your sins shall be forgiven - As sure as Mercy is in Heaven." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "Then, at your pleasure I proceed, - Nor will I hide a single deed; - There is but one I doubt to own, - But that to you shall be made known, - And will with you securely rest - As in my own uneasy breast; - Though I'm afraid of vengeful laws - As I believe without a cause. - Indeed, I have contriv'd to play - The very fool for many a day, - But brief, be sure, I'll strive to be - In this my early history. - - "And here, an' please you, Sir, begins - The tale of my mishaps--the chapter of my sins." - - - - -CANTO II - - - It may seem queer when 'tis the will - Of Fate, its wishes to fulfil, - To call the culprit to the bar, - One born beneath a luckless star, - And from his urging conscience tell - The truths that on his mem'ry dwell, - When, like a checquer they display - The black and white to open day. - Thus, as the truth he's bound to state, - The former may preponderate; - While, in a happy moment bold, - He may some conscious good unfold, - Nor can the awkward task refuse - Both to applaud and to accuse. - --Such thoughts as these might be the cause, - Why poor QUAE GENUS made a pause. - - "Well," said _Sir Jeff'ry_, "pray go on, - Or never will your tale have done: - I've told you, and you must attend; - You tell your story to a friend, - Who will, whatever may appear, - With kindness and compassion hear." - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "Your pardon, Sir, I will proceed, - Nor stop till I've perform'd the deed. - --Thus, so far Fortune deck'd with smiles - The season which our youth beguiles, - And gave the hope of added measure - To gay delight and solid pleasure: - But while the merry song went round, - And to the tabor's lively sound, - The village did in cadence beat, - With all its many twinkling feet, - Pale Fate appear'd, in cypress wreath, - And call'd out for the DANCE OF DEATH: - When my dear friend, who gave the feast, - And cheer'd with smiles each happy guest, - Was borne away, I scarce knew why, - But I was told,--it was to die. - And soon, alas! I wond'ring saw - All govern'd by a man of law, - With whom she seldom converse held, - But when her private cares compell'd - Some petty, trifling, legal aid, - Which coolly she discharg'd and paid. - 'Twas by this man's exulting side - I walk'd along and sobb'd and sigh'd - When she was carried to the bourne - From whence we mortals ne'er return. - --I was by all around approv'd, - And by the better neighbours lov'd, - While I in ev'ry eye could see - The pity that was felt for me. - By her death-bed he held the quill - That made him master of her will, - While a round sum was written there - To pay him for the tender care - Which he of her sweet boy would take, - For her's and her dear husband's sake. - Husband! whom this same man of law, - This forging rascal never saw: - Indeed by many it was thought - He put his name where he ought not. - It much surpriz'd each curious friend, - And quite astonish'd _Doctor Bend_, - Whose rev'rend titles should have been - Where the foul lawyer's name was seen. - Wrong was suspected, Counsel had, - But no objection could be made, - And by all forms of law allied, - The will was shap'd and testified: - The attorney to his duties swore, - So he became Executor. - 'Tis true she left her all to me, - But here and there a legacy; - Though, such were this strange will's commands - Through _Lawyer Gripe-all's_ grasping hands, - All was to pass and there remain - Till I the age of man attain; - And if I chanc'd to die before,-- - The lawyer was to take the store. - All saw, or all believ'd the cheat, - But the law veil'd the base deceit, - And when the doctor came to see - How justice might be done to me, - On due reflection, thought it fit, - As things were order'd, to submit; - Told me, at present, to be quiet, - To seem content, nor breed a riot, - But when I truely crav'd a friend, - I knew the home of _Dickey Bend_; - Then with affection's warmth caress'd me, - And, with a parent's blessing, bless'd me. - - "From that dear cottage now I mov'd, - Where I such tender fondness prov'd; - From a calm scene of taste refin'd, - And all that could improve the mind; - Where daily blessings were bestow'd - From all the humble neighbourhood; - Where heart-felt goodness was employ'd, - And social harmony enjoy'd;-- - From these QUAE GENUS was transferr'd - To where the daily curse was heard, - Where the law's promise was delay'd, - And money for injustice paid; - Or a loud, base, malignant joy, - Which the law's triumphs might employ;-- - To an old house that stood alone, - With ivy and with moss o'ergrown, - And where the practiser of laws - Did his foul deeds 'mid bats and daws; - Nay, which, as fame reports, was worse, - The house was saddled with a curse, - That _Gripe-all_, in the law's despite, - Had robb'd some widow of her right, - And, by his cutting and his carving, - Had got the house--and left her starving. - - "Oft I my loss, in secret, wept, - And when my eyelids should have slept, - Nay, when those eyelids should have clos'd - And I in strength'ning sleep repos'd, - They remain'd wakeful oft and shed - Their dews upon my troubled bed. - Though Master _Gripe-all_, it was known - Shew'd me a kindness not his own; - And did with all indulgence treat me, - As the best means, at length, to cheat me. - He strove my early grief to soothe, - Call'd me his dear, delightful youth; - Gave me a pretty horse to ride, - With money in my purse beside; - Let me employ the taylor's art - To deck me out and make me smart, - Let me just study when I pleas'd, - Nor e'er my mind with learning teas'd. - But still a gnawing discontent - Prey'd on me wheresoe'er I went. - --Of Phillis too I was bereft, - One real pleasure that was left: - A fav'rite spaniel of my friend, - That did on all my steps attend, - At eve was frisking, fond and gay, } - But on the sad succeeding day, } - A poison'd, swollen form it lay. } - It might be chance, but while I griev'd, - The following letter I received, - Which was thrown o'er a hedge the while - I sat half weeping on a stile. - The writer I could never tell; - But he who wrote it meant me well; - And I've no doubt that it contain'd - The thoughts which through the country reign'd." - - -LETTER. - - "_I'm a poor man, but yet can spell, } - And I lov'd Madam SYNTAX well: } - --But I've a sorry tale to tell. } - Young 'Squire you're in the Devil's hands, - Or one who yields to his commands, - And who, I'm certain, would be bold - In bloody deeds, if 'tis for gold. - Halters he fears, but the base wretch - Fears no one mortal but JACK KETCH: - Yet what with quirks and such like flaws, - He can contrive to cheat the laws_: - _Though Madam's hand the will might sign, - It is no more her will than mine. - Some say, as she lay on her bed, - The deed was sign'd when she was dead, - And I've heard some one say, whose name - I must not give to common fame, - He'd lay ten pounds and say, 'have done,' - You liv'd not on to twenty-one; - And if you die before, 'tis known, - That Madam's money's all his own. - Nay, how he did the will compose, - 'Tis Beelzebub alone who knows! - He in a lonely mansion lives, - But there the cunning villain thrives: - Yes, he gets on, as it appears, - By setting people by the ears: - Though I have heard NAN MIDWIFE say, - Who sometimes travels late that way, - That 'neath the yew, near the house wall, - Where the dark ivy's seen to crawl, - A cat she once saw which was half - As big as any full-grown calf, - And with her tail beat down the bushes, - As if they were but slender rushes; - Has often felt sulphureous steam, - And seen bright lines of lightning gleam. - These things the good, old woman, swears - She sometimes smells and sees and hears, - While thus all trembling with affright, - She scarce can get her bald mare by't. - --Run off, young 'Squire, for much I fear - You'll be cut off, if you stay here. - My service thus I do commend, - From, Sir, your very humble friend: - And hope you will take in good part, - What comes from poor but honest heart!_" - - "This plain epistle told no more - Than had been hinted at before; - But though I was too bold to fear - That danger of such kind was near, - Yet still the honest counsel brought - My mind to a new range of thought. - - "One day as I was riding out, - Prowling the country round about, - A guide-post stood, in letter'd pride, - Close by the dusty high-road side: - With many towns for passage fam'd, - _Oxford_ upon its points was nam'd, - Which instant call'd me to attend - To my kind patron _Doctor Bend_: - And then there 'rose within my breast - A thought that reason did suggest, - And not th' effect of boyish whim, - '_Th' Attorney quit and fly to him_.'-- - --Soon after, by a lucky chance, - I heard what made my heart to dance, - That _Cerberus_ would be from home, - At least for sev'ral days to come, - Though, when of me he took his leave, - He said, 'expect me home at eve, - But, as talk may the way beguile,' - He added, 'ride with me a mile.' - --This was the very thing I wish'd, - For now I felt the fox was dish'd. - He rode on first and bade me follow, - 'Twas then that I began to hollow; - I had but one _white lie_ to tell - And all things would be going well. - I said it was my guardian's whim - That I should make the tour with him, - And ask'd for a clean shirt or so - As I had such a way to go. - Thus my great-coat, most closely roll'd, - Did all the useful package hold, - And to the saddle strongly tied - I was completely satisfied, - As nought appear'd, thus pack'd together, - But a protection from the weather, - So that the lawyer's lynx's eye - Was clos'd on curiosity: - For Madam Gripe-all's ready care - Did, to my wish, the whole prepare. - Indeed, whatever she might be, - Her kindness never fail'd to me. - She frequently would call me son, - And say she lov'd me as her own; - Nay, when the clock struck, she would say, - 'Kiss me as often, dear, I pray - As that same clock is heard to strike, - And oft'ner, dearest, if you like.' - Though such favour ne'er was shown, } - But when we both were quite alone, } - And seldom when the clock struck one. } - Her fondness I could well have stinted, - For, to say truth, she smelt and squinted: - But I remember'd that she cried, - When my poor, little Phillis died. - - "I felt my airing rather droll, - Jogging with _Gripe-all_ cheek-by-jowl, - And hearing him, with no great awe, - Expound the secrets of the law. - --When arriv'd at seven miles' end - He smil'd and said, 'Good bye, my friend: - Now homewards you will turn and tell, - That thus far you have left me well.' - I left him with a hope, how vain! - I ne'er might see his face again. - My spur did sprightly poney goad - Till I had got into the road - Which did to Oxford's city lead, - When I restrain'd my foaming steed, - And, calmly pacing on my way, - Ere _Great Tom_ toll'd the following day, - I had embrac'd my rev'rend friend - And kindest patron, _Doctor Bend_. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS AT OXFORD.] - - "I told a simple, artless tale, - That seem'd completely to prevail, - As I beheld his face the while - Beam with a kind, approving smile. - ''Tis a bold trick,' the Doctor said, - 'Which you, my lively spark, have play'd, - But since to College you are come, - I'll try to make the place your home; - Where I should hope you need not fear - To be cut short in your career; - I think, at least, we may engage - To keep you safe till you're of age, - When I shall leave you to the struggling - With _Gripe-all's_ artifice and juggling: - But still the cunning lawyer knows - I have good friends 'mong some of those - Who lead the bar or have a seat - Where the keen eye detects a cheat. - He will, I doubt not, swear and curse, - Nay, he may say you've stole his horse; - But if he meets with no disaster, - In two days he shall see his master, - And John will have a strict command - To give a letter to his hand - Which I shall with due caution write - Before I seek my bed to-night, - And if my mental eye sees clear - Will fix my friend QUAE GENUS here.' - John met the lawyer on the road, - Just as he reach'd his own abode, - And ere at home he could have heard - Of my escape a single word: - Told him at once all he could tell, - That I at Oxford was, and well, - Where as I stay'd, I had of course, - With many thanks return'd his horse, - John said, he rather look'd confus'd - As the epistle he perus'd. - --Whether it bore a kind request - I should with ALMA MATER rest, - Or any hint that might apply - To the High Court of Chancery: - If soothing it contain'd or threat, } - I never knew or I forget,-- } - With all submission it was met. } - To all it ask'd he did agree, - And sent his kind regards to me, - While he his counsel did commend - Not to run off from _Doctor Bend_, - Nor e'er be govern'd by the whim - That made me run away from him. - - "Thus soon in Scholar's cap and gown, } - I was seen saunt'ring up and down } - The High-Street of fair Oxford Town. } - And though I stood not first in fame, - I never bore an idler's name. - I was content, nay 'twas my pride - The Doctor ne'er was heard to chide, - Which, as your Oxford youths can tell, - Was getting onward rather well. - My friends, the WORTHIES, near the Lake, - Lov'd me for DOCTOR SYNTAX' sake, - And, free from e'en a speck of care, - I pass'd a short-liv'd Summer there. - --But time, as it is us'd, roll'd on, - And I, at length, was twenty-one. - - "I now became a man of cares - To bear the weight of my affairs, - To know my fortune's full amount, - And to arrange a clear account - Between the vile, rapacious elf, - The _Lawyer Gripe-all_ and myself. - --No sooner to the place I came, } - Soon as was heard my well-known name, } - The bells my coming did proclaim, } - And had I stay'd the following day, - I would have made the village gay! - Thus _Gripe-all_ was full well prepar'd - And put at once upon his guard. - I went unwittingly alone - To claim my right and ask my own, - Though arm'd, to cut the matter short, - With an enliv'ning dose of Port, - While he was ready to display - The spirit of the law's delay. - --A step, he said, he could not stir - Without Baptismal Register, - And many a proof he must receive, - Which well he knew I could not give; - And till these papers I could shew, - He must remain in _Statu quo_. - But still, as a kind, gen'rous friend, - And from respect to _Doctor Bend_, - He would, though cash did not abound, - Advance me then _four hundred pound_. - I took the notes and thought it best - To wait the settling of the rest; - But soon I saw, as I'm alive, - That I had sign'd receipt for _five_. - My fingers caught the fraudful paper, - At which he 'gan to fume and vapour, - And let loose language full of ire, - Such as 'you bastard, rascal, liar,' - On which I caught him by the nose, - And gave the wretch some heavy blows, - Nay, as the blood ran down his face, - I dash'd the ink all in his face, - So that his figure might have done - E'en for the pit of Acheron. - Inky black and bloody red - Was o'er his ghastly visage spread, - As he lay senseless on the floor, - And, as I then thought, breath'd no more. - --The office, now a scene of blood, - Most haply in the garden stood, - So that our scene of sanguine riot - Did not disturb domestic quiet: - The notes were in my pocket stor'd, - And the receipt was in the hoard; - But as I now believ'd him dead, - I thought of being hang'd--and fled. - Nor did I make the whisky wait - Which then stood at the garden gate. - The driver who there held the reins, - Took me through many secret lanes - And woodland roads, that might evade - Pursuit, if any should be made. - He had an humble play-mate been - When I was sportive on the green; - But now, like me, to manhood grown, - Was as a skilful driver known; - And would have gone to serve QUAE GENUS - Though fire and water were between us. - I told him all the fears I felt, - And how I had with _Gripe-all_ dealt; - Nay, urg'd him, if I were pursued, } - To cheat the blood-hounds, if he could, } - All which he mainly swore he would. } - Nay, hop'd I'd given him such a drubbing, - As to send him Beelzebubbing; - Though, first or last, he sure would go - To his relations down below. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -CONFLICT BETWEEN QUAE GENUS & LAWYER GRIPE-ALL.] - - "Thus as we talk'd a mail-coach pass'd, - And as I could not go too fast, - I found, perchance, an empty seat, - And thus I made a quick retreat; - Nay should, in eight and forty hours, - By the wheels' ever-rolling powers, - Have a secure retirement found, - Safe from pursuit, on Scottish ground. - But as Misfortune, it is said, - Calls in associates to her aid, - And, indeed, is seldom known - To pay her visits all alone; - So either from the sultry weather, - Or anxious thoughts, or both together, - I was stopp'd short in my career, - By intermitting fits severe - Of heat and cold: a Galen came, - And Julep was the good man's name, - For truly good he prov'd to me - In skill and in humanity. - ''Tis not,' he said, 'disease alone, - Which various symptoms have made known, - But they're encreasing as I find, - By a disturb'd and anxious mind, - And if that cannot be subdued, - Med'cine will do but little good.' - I therefore, my distresses told, - In short, my story did unfold, - While, as I spoke, in his kind eye, - I saw the tear of sympathy, - And did beneath his roof receive - The care that pitying skill could give. - - "The fever wag'd a painful strife, - A struggling chance 'tween Death and Life, - That play'd upon my yielding spine, - Which did to outward curve incline: - I felt the mark would ne'er forsake - Its cruel seat upon my back; - I bent beneath the foul disaster - That ne'er would yield to any plaister: - Nor medicine, nor knife can cure it, - And must struggle to endure it. - Thus when restor'd to health and vigour, - I was become a crook-back'd figure: - My former round and healthful face - Had lost its plump, its rosy grace, - And was reduc'd from this same cause - To pale and lean and lantern jaws, - That none who once QUAE GENUS knew - Would recollect him on the view; - Nor e'en would recognition wait - Though he should pass by _Gripe-all's_ gate. - When in the glass I chanc'd to view, } - The figure I now scarcely knew, } - I shudder'd and despis'd it too. } - --'At length,' said _Julep_, 'I commend, - Ere you depart, a worthy friend, - A lawyer too, nay, do not start, - Whose well-stor'd head and honest-heart, - Throughout his life were ne'er disjoin'd, - And in his practice are combin'd - The cause of truth and right to aid; - Who ne'er has heard the poor upbraid - His conscious dealings, while 'tis known, - The wealthy do his virtues own. - Thus, as your fate has been accurs'd, - Of legal dealers, with the worst; - You now may, as by all confess'd, - Obtain good counsel from the best. - - "On such a character intent, - To Lawyer _Make-peace_ thus I went, - And told my curious story o'er - As I have told it you before. - With a keen look my face he ey'd, - And in a gentle tone replied. - 'If the good man you thus have bang'd, - You may contemplate being hang'd; - But, as the case to me appears, - I trust you may dismiss your fears; - For even now you do not know - What evil follow'd from the blow; - And though some blood may have been spill'd, - It follows not the man was kill'd: - Besides, whatever ill was done, - There was no witness, no not one - To prove which of you was in fault, - Who first provok'd or gave th' assault; - And if, my friend, you had not fled - You need not fear, though he were dead. - --No advertisement has appear'd - To state the crime, as I have heard, - And surely I've the means to know - If any measures had been so. - But still, remember, I advise - That you move under a disguise, - 'Till time and chance have drawn aside - That veil that does these threat'nings hide, - Which, in your present dubious state, - May on your wary footsteps wait. - Change your dress and change your name, - For neither now must be the same.' - - -QUAE GENUS. - - 'My dress and name I'll do anon, - The fever all the rest has done; - For Doctor _Bend_ I would defy } - The fondled Foundling to descry, } - In his mis-shapen misery. } - JOHNNY QUAE GENUS, now adieu! - JACK PAGE I substitute for you!' - - -LAWYER MAKE-PEACE. - - 'You have good friends whom you can trust, - Who to misfortune will be just, - They will, I doubt not, let you know, - How you must act and what to do. - And much I think you have been wrong, - To have with-held your pen so long. - Obey me now in all I've said; - Be secret and be not afraid.' - - "He spoke, and, in the kindest way, - Urg'd me to make no more delay; - And when I sought to give the fee; - 'No, no,' he said, 'to such as thee - For mere good words I'm never paid;-- - This is my way of plying trade. - When you have made a fair escape - From this unlucky, wretched scrape, - And when you are again restor'd - To your own happy bed and board; - When from all thraldom you are free, - Then, if it suits, remember me.' - - "My notes were sew'd up in my coat, - For JULEP would not take a groat. - 'When you reach home,' he kindly said; - 'Like his friend MAKE-PEACE, I'll be paid.' - Thus I set off, as was my plan, - Guis'd as a trudging, trav'lling man, - And in his journey going on - To seek his fate in London town. - My needfuls in an oil-cloth sack, - Were buckled to my wretched back, - And late at night when the full moon - In an unclouded brightness shone, - I left those gen'rous friends behind - Which such as me so seldom find: - A Galen, with that goodness fraught, - Who gave his skill and drugs for nought; - And an attorney, whose great aim - Was to put roguery to shame; - Nay, whose superior virtues tell - The Law can shew a _Miracle_. - - "You must, _Sir Jeff'ry_, often see } - The strange effects of vanity; } - Another you will find in me. } - You'll scarce believe as I relate - The folly which I now must state: - That I've been such a silly elf - I now can scarce believe myself: - And I could wish I dare conceal - What duty bids me to reveal. - --Did not calm prudence whisper now - To my existing state to bow, - To tell it all to such a friend - As I had found in _Doctor Bend_, - Or a quick pilgrimage to make } - To Worthy-Hall beside the Lake, } - Where, for dear _Doctor Syntax'_ sake, } - The troubled _Foundling_ would receive - All that protecting care could give. - This was the counsel _Make-peace_ gave, - A lawyer who was not a knave; - Who would advise without a fee, - And felt for human misery. - --This Reason said in lessons strong, - As I pac'd my still way along, - When the dull sound of my own feet - And Philomela's sonnet sweet - Did on the gen'ral silence break, - And seem'd to keep the night awake. - Then VANITY sat pick-a-pack - Perch'd on the hump upon my back, - And whisper'd into either ear, - 'Such humbling counsels do not hear. - Where poor QUAE GENUS has been known - His alter'd form must ne'er be shown: - With this sad shape he never can - Hold himself forth a gentleman: - No art can furnish you a cloak - To hide from pity or from joke. - If passing on a river's ridge, - Or, perchance lolling o'er a bridge, - You gaze upon the stream below - Whose crystal mirror's seen to flow, - Would not the picture meet your eye - Of your own sad deformity? - At Oxford you would be the talk - Of the High-street or Christ-Church-walk, - While many quizzing fools look round - To view your rising back begown'd. - --How would you bear the wond'ring ken - Of the good folk of Sommerden, - While they with pitying looks lament - The once straight form, but now so bent! - Then leave the world where you have been, - Where I would be no longer seen, - Nor let the jealous eye compare, - What you once was with what you are. - Might I advise, I'd sooner die } - Unknown, in humble privacy, } - Again,' said whisp'ring vanity, } - 'Than e'er appear where I was known - For graces which were then my own, - That pity or that scorn might point - At such a form, so out of joint.' - - "I need not say how many days - I sought the bye and secret ways, - For ever list'ning to the tongue } - That whisper'd soft and pleaded strong, } - To set each better feeling wrong. } - Hence I resign'd myself to chance, - Left fortune, friends, inheritance, - And madly felt that I was hurl'd - Thus mark'd to wander through the world. - To snatch at, and at once receive, - Whate'er the world might chance to give. - 'Twas not a whimsy of the brain, } - That did the idle scheme sustain, } - 'Twas something which I can't explain. } - All feeling center'd in the pack - That had thus risen on my back; - And as I felt the burden there, - It seem'd the seat of ev'ry care, - Of ev'ry painful thought brimfull, - Like OLD PANDORA'S _Ridicule_. - But as every single note } - Which I from _Gripe-all's_ grasp had got, } - Was still secure within my coat, } - I had sufficient means and more - To travel all the kingdom o'er - With staff in hand, and well-shod feet, } - And oil'd umbrella form'd to meet } - The show'rs that might my passage greet. } - One pocket did a bible hold, - The other held the story told, - Which good AEneas did rehearse - To Dido, in immortal verse; - While from a loop before descended - A flute that oft my hours befriended: - Thus I with verse, with prose or fist, - Was scholar, fiddler, methodist. - As fit occasion might demand, - I could let Scripture Phrase off-hand, - Or fine re-sounding verses quote, - Or play a tune in lively note. - Thus qualified to cut and carve, - I need not fear that I should starve; - While in some future lucky stage - Of my uncertain pilgrimage, - I might have hopes, remov'd from strife, - To be a fixture for my life. - - "Such was the wild, fantastic scheme - Such was the strange distracted dream, - That, stranger still, rose from the pack - Which chance had fix'd upon my back. - Of friends forgetful, 'twas my plot - That I by friends should be forgot.-- - I seem'd to wish that I were thrown - Upon some island yet unknown, - Where crooked figure is the feature - Of all the living, reas'ning nature; - And where deformity would be - A shape of perfect symmetry; - Which SWIFT would not have fail'd to spare, - Had his bold fancy wander'd there, - And _Lemuel Gulliver_ had been - The visitor of such a scene. - - "In this same state I wander'd on, - Grumbling and doubting and alone, - Though some encouragement I met - Which made me whilom cease to fret; - For, tales I hap'd by chance to know - And pleasant fancies I could show, - With which my active mind was stor'd, - Had sometimes paid my bed and board; - Nay, had prolong'd my welcome stay - Throughout a grave or lively day. - - "One evening by a riv'let's side - That did in gentle murmurs glide, - Where the green turf its carpet spread, - And willow boughs wav'd o'er my head, - I sat reclin'd, nor was my flute, - As I could wake its music, mute: - When a huge waggon pass'd along, - And soon a chorus join'd the song. - Invited by the social strain, - I rose and sought the jocund train; - Men, women, children, all so gay, - Who loudly cheer'd the tedious way. - The cargo which the waggon bore - Were modern times and those of yore; - The image of each living scene, - And of such things as ne'er had been: - Witches and goblins, clouds and skies - Deck'd out in their varieties, - The river's flow, the ocean's waves, - The crowns of kings, the bonds of slaves, - Helmets and mitres, robes and arms, - Terrific forms, and beauty's charms, - All mov'd along, together hurl'd, - Th' outfittings of a mimic world: - When what with spouting, what with song, - As the procession trudg'd along, - No cunning was required to see, - It was a strolling company, - Who were proceeding to make known - Their talents in a neighb'ring town. - Here a strange thought occur'd that I - Might try my powers in Tragedy; - While the vain fancy was possess'd - I might appear among the best: - In short among them I display'd - An earnest of the acting trade. - The bills were blazon'd with my name, - A candidate for scenic fame, - And 'twas announc'd that Mr. Page - Would first appear on any stage. - The part which I of course preferr'd - Was SHAKESPEAR'S well known R. the THIRD. - I wanted not the wardrobe's aid, - My crook-back was already made; - My form disdain'd the aid of art, - And thus I play'd the tyrant's part: - But from my being thus disjoin'd, - To this same part I was confin'd. - Though by this outfit I must own - I could perform the awkward clown, - Or any other hunch-back fellow, - A Pantaloon, or Punchinello, - Where white and red be-mark'd my face, - And excellence was my disgrace: - For here I shrunk beneath the pack - That fate had nail'd upon my back. - - "I wish'd to figure as Othello, - But he was a fine, straight-made fellow, - Whom, with a shape, so crook'd, so bent, - I could not dare to represent, - And though his face was olive brown, - No injury his form had known; - While mine, in its unseemly guise, - Fair Desdemona must despise: - Nor could it be a bard's design, } - That love-sick maids should e'er incline } - To such an outrag'd shape as mine. } - My voice possess'd a tender strain, - That could express a lover's pain; - But such a figure never yet - Was seen to win a _Juliet_. - Nay ladies lolling in a box, - Would think it a most curious hoax, - If through their glasses they should see - Lord Townly such an imp as me. - Thus for a month or more, JACK PAGE - Fretted and strutted on the stage, - Sometimes affording Richard's figure - In all its native twist and vigour; - Or bearing kick, or smack, or thump - From Harlequin upon his hump. - Though I say not, I was ill-paid - For the fine acting I display'd. - Nay, had I less mis-shapen been, - I might to the Theatric scene, - Have turn'd my strange life's future views, - And courted the Dramatic Muse. - - "But as I could not smooth my shape - From the hips upwards to the nape, - And as to so confin'd a round - My imitative powers were bound, - My Genius I resolv'd to try - In writing Farce or Comedy, - In which I could exert my art - For my dear self to form a part - Wherein the keen, applauding eye - Might dwell on my deformity, - And where the picture might beguile - The judgement to afford a smile. - --When this same work I had perform'd - My vanity was rather warm'd. - 'Humour,' 'twas said, 'the piece discovers,' - And it was call'd, 'The Crooked Lovers.' - - "I think, _Sir Jeff'ry_ you may guess, } - The plot my Farce aims to possess,-- } - A kind of praise of ugliness; } - Where Beauty is not seen to charm, - Nor fill the heart with fond alarm; - Where finest eyes may gleam in vain, - May wake no joy, or give no pain: - And though the beaming smiles may grace - The rosy bloom of Delia's face, - Here they excite no am'rous passion, - Nor call forth tender inclination: - Such the desire, that ev'ry day, - Amuses Cupid when at play, - But other objects must engage - The scenes I offer'd to the stage: - Lame legs, club feet, and blinking eyes, - With such like eccentricities, - Call'd forth my amorous desire, - And set my actors all on fire. - With me no Damon longs to sip - The sweets of Cath'rine's pouting lip, - But smoke-dried Strephon seeks the bliss - Of a well-guarded, snuffy kiss, - Where the long nose, delightful wonder, - Scarce from the chin can keep asunder; - Where lovers' hearts ne'er feel a thump, - But when they view each other's hump. - - "Now here again I was o'erthrown - By a crook-back, and not my own; - The May'rs gay wife, whose back appears - Upon a level with her ears, - Was pleas'd at first that I had prov'd - She was an object to be lov'd; - But as the Parish Parson too, - With a small form was quite askew, - And as, when it was pleasant weather, - This pair would take a walk together, - Would saunter through the winding glade, - Or sit beneath the beechen shade; - And, as it seem'd, were never cloy'd - With tender converse so enjoy'd; - It hap'd some Critic keen discovers - Whom I meant by 'The Crooked Lovers.' - The May'ress call'd th' obedient Mayor - To frown from magisterial chair, - And with the terrors of his mace - To drive my Hunch-back from the place;-- - And on the high-road I once more - Was trav'lling as I did before. - - "To you, Sir, it was never known - To feel the state which I must own: - No home, not knowing where to go, - How I should act and what to do. - Just as a ship whose rudder's lost, - Nor within sight of any coast; - Without the power to stand the shock - Of tempest, or to shun the rock. - From the strange nature of my birth, - I knew no relative on earth, - Nor to my giddy thoughts was given - To look with any hope to Heaven. - To London I propos'd to go, - Where not a being did I know: - To me it was an unknown shore, - Where I had never been before, - At least, since of all care bereft, - I was a helpless Foundling left. - Thus, as I thought, behold I stood, - Beside a mill-dam's spreading flood; - The waters form'd to drive the mill } - With its tremendous wheel, stood still, } - While evening glimmer'd on the hill. } - One plunge I said and all is o'er, - My hopes and fears will be no more; - An unknown child, an unknown man, - And I shall end as I began. - Nor can I say what would have follow'd, - I, and my hump, might have been swallow'd - In the deep, wat'ry gulph beneath, - Had I not heard a hautbois breath - A lively, but an uncouth strain, - As it appear'd from rustic swain, - Which, as it dwelt upon my ear, - Told me that merriment was near, - And did at once dispel the gloom - That might have sought a wat'ry tomb. - I turn'd my footsteps tow'rds the sound - That was now heard the valley round; - When soon upon the rural green, - The sight of busy mirth was seen. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS AT A SHEEP-SHEARING.] - - "With sights like these, I had been us'd - In early days to be amus'd - When I but wav'd my boyish hand - The rural groupes obey'd command, - When ev'ry rustic feast I grac'd - And was in highest station plac'd, - Though I did to no name aspire, - Yet I was nam'd the youthful 'Squire, - For Madam Syntax sake was shown - The honour which was not my own. - But now, such was my fortune's change, - A wand'rer I was left to range - I scarce knew where, and doom'd to wait - For what might be my future fate. - Thus I approach'd the busy throng, - And when I heard the joyous song, - Though, with a mingled sense of pain, - My flute pour'd forth a doubtful strain. - --'Twas a sheep-shearing that employ'd - The festive toil which all enjoy'd, - And I was welcom'd to receive - The bounties that the feast could give; - And while I did my carols play, - With flowers the maidens made me gay, - And as they gave my back a thump, - Each stuck a nosegay on my hump. - Here I must own, there's no concealing, - These compliments attack'd my feeling, - And I was deck'd out in a part, - Which on my back, was near my heart; - Yet, as sweet smiles shew'd the intent - That no offensive thought was meant, - I, with kind words and sprightly tune - Strove to repay the fragrant boon. - --The yeoman, master of the feast, - Was kind, and own'd me as his guest, - And as he view'd each added fleece - That did his summer wealth encrease, - He joyous made the toast go round - To the song's animating sound, - While the patient ewes grown light, - And eas'd of all their fleecy weight, - No more the shearer's hand restrain - But bound off to their hills again. - Such was the scene that did awhile - My bosom of its cares beguile, - For he must have a wretched heart - To whom those joys no joy impart, - Which others are beheld to feel - And to th' attentive eye reveal; - Nay, I must own that this night's pleasure, - Which revell'd in unbounded measure, - A kind, though short, oblivion shed - O'er my crook-back and thoughtful head: - Yes, brief it was, for soon again - My pleasure yielded to my pain, - And all the jocund, festive folly - Was then restor'd to melancholy. - The ale was good, my draughts were deep, - And, overcome by sudden sleep, - Upon a chair my head repos'd, - And soon my eyes were soundly clos'd. - Th' Exciseman, a smart, parish wit, - Thought he could make a funny hit, - And with his ochre red and black, - Drew a fierce face upon my back, - The thought, at least, was not quite civil, - With all the emblems of the devil. - He had display'd his humour's art - Upon a very tender part, - At least, my pride, as you must know, - Had to my fancy made it so. - When, by the roar caus'd by the joke, - I from the slumb'ring fit awoke; - Soon did I make th' Exciseman sick - Of such a mortifying trick: - His gauging-rod was heard to crack - In many a stroke upon his back, - Till, by his supplicating tone, - I found I had aveng'd my own. - But though the marks were brush'd with care, - By the same hand which trac'd them there; - And though I was most warmly prest, - By the kind master of the feast, - To pass another jovial day; - I felt offence and walk'd away. - - "'Do what I can, go where I will, - This Hump's my evil genius still, - And serves in some odd way or other - My any sense of joy to smother.' - --Such was th' expression that my tongue - Would mutter as I trudg'd along. - --But REASON told me, cease your strife - With this companion of your life; - 'Tis fix'd as fate, and you must wear it, - Therefore with resignation bear it. - It is, I own, an ugly tumour, - But you should treat it with good humour, - And still be pleas'd you cannot trace - Any mis-givings on your face. - The change you surely would not try - For a lame leg or squinting eye: - Though somewhat out of line your figure, - You still enjoy Health's active vigour: - All's right before, so never mind - A certain awkwardness behind; - For sure, when you present your front, - No eye can see a blemish on't. - With merry and good-humour'd folk, - Treat it, Oh treat it as a joke, - And if, by chance, you meet a fool - Who turns it into ridicule, - Tell him you'd rather have the feature, - Coarse as it is, than his ill-nature. - Take care that none who know you, find - An awkward hump within your mind: - Oh, let it be your constant care - To banish disproportion there, - And you will laugh with friends who crack - Chance-medley jokes upon your back! - -[Illustration: QUAE GENUS ASSISTING A TRAVELLER.] - - "To Reason I attention lent; } - Th' advice was good,--and, strait or bent, } - I now resolv'd to be content. } - - "Thus, as I urg'd my onward way, - In spirits rather growing gay, - With saddle bags and all alone, } - A sprightly horse came trotting on, } - As if he had his rider thrown. } - The beast I, with some trouble, caught, - And then its fallen master sought, - Whom, within half a mile I found - All pale and stretch'd upon the ground: - When I approach'd, as in surprise, - He gave a groan and op'd his eyes. - A crystal brook ran murm'ring by, - Its cooling fluid to supply, - And soon its sprinklings did afford - The power that banish'd strength restor'd. - Thus, when re-mounted on his steed, - We did, in progress slow, proceed: - I cautious pac'd it by his side - With tighten'd rein the horse to guide; - And with attentive eye, prevent - Another downfall accident. - - "We might have gone a mile or more, - When we beheld a lofty tower - That did in stately form arise, - A welcome sight to anxious eyes, - Marking a spot where might be found - Some styptic to a bleeding wound. - I shall be brief,--the Horseman's head } - Was soon repos'd on downy bed; } - The Surgeon came and he was bled: } - The lancet was by blisters follow'd, - And potions, in due order, swallow'd. - He look'd his thanks, then squeez'd my hand, - Bade me, what gold could pay, command; - Of all I wish'd to take my fill, - Enjoy myself, nor fear the bill. - I took my patient at his word, - And what the _Blue Bell_ could afford, - (An Inn of good repute and worth, - Well known to all who travel North,) - As it was his desire, enjoy'd, - Till with good living I was cloy'd. - But his sick bed I did amuse, - I told him tales and read the news; - So that with emphasis he swore - He almost griev'd his ills were o'er. - - "As near, I think, as I can tell, - A fortnight pass'd ere he was well; - When he thus wish'd me to make known - How his best thanks could best be shown.-- - - "'I now may tell, my saddle-bags - Held a rich bundle of those rags - Which, from the Bank, are issued forth, - As we all know, of precious worth, - And might have been a certain prize - Had they been seen by knavish eyes. - A rogue would have possess'd the steed, - And with his mettle and his speed, - Have sought a spot, where, at his leisure, - He might have rummag'd all my treasure; - Nay, been in town before the post - Could have made known what I had lost, - And, on some artful trick's reliance, - Have set discovery at defiance: - When I, here sitting sad and stewing, - Might have been pond'ring o'er my ruin: - While, from your noble, gen'rous dealing, - I feel a joy there's no revealing. - - "'A _Trav'ller_ is the name I bear, - A well-known, useful character, - Who, through the kingdom's wide-stretch'd bounds, - Ne'er fails to make his yearly rounds. - I for a London house of trade - Employ my necessary aid, - By which its commerce I extend - From Dover to the far Land's End. - Well mounted, or perhaps in chaise, - We quietly pursue our ways; - Lift our heads high, and look so grand - When we have payments to demand, - But bow, and handsome speeches give - When we have orders to receive: - Thus suiting manners, as you see - To our commercial policy. - Nay, when the busy day is o'er, - We meet at night, perhaps a score; - And, in return, give our commands - To humble host, who cringing stands, - In order to prepare the best - For the be-bagg'd and trav'lling guest, - And bring us wine to aid our cheer; } - While, with stump'd pens behind the ear, } - Good folks in town may drink their beer-- } - Nay, may be boasting of our labours - In smoking clubs of sober neighbours. - - "'To what the London Mart supplies, - We give our wings and off it flies: - Thus knowledge, taste, and every fashion - Find a quick way throughout the nation, - And all the wants of high and low - We with a ready zeal bestow. - --The beauties of improving art - We scatter round in every part, - And diff'rent districts of the isle - In our communications smile. - To learning we distribute books, - And sauces to the country cooks: - Nay, none there are who will refuse - The town-made blacking for their shoes: - On Shetland legs its lustre glows - As on the boots of Bond-street beaux. - Where is the Miss, or where the Maid - Who does not ask our frequent aid? - At city ball or country fair - Our visits are apparent there; - And but for us, the summer races - Would be despoil'd of half their graces. - In short, as ev'ry eye may see, - The kingdom is one gallery; - That its abundant uses owes - To what the Traveller bestows. - Hence it is not a vain pretence - That we may make to consequence, - Who, by our turns and windings, strive - To make this flying commerce thrive: - Too happy when we carry home - Bags of Bank rags for which we roam: - Nay, I may think I owe to you, - That mine are safe within my view, - And any wish I will obey, - Which to my power you may convey.' - - "I seiz'd the time and told my tale, - At least, as much as might avail - Some settlement in town to find, - That suited both my means and mind; - When by advice, and, which was better, - By a most urgent, friendly letter, - Arriv'd in London,--I soon found - I did not tread on hostile ground: - Nay, ere a week was pass'd and gone, } - Fortune, I hop'd had ceas'd to frown, } - As I did now a station own, } - With promis'd comfort by my side, - That gave me gains, nor hurt my pride. - But my misfortunes were not past, - Though this I hope will be my last, - Or I'll avenge me of the pack, - The foe I carry on my back; - From London Bridge I'll dash me plump,-- - And drown th' incorrigible Hump. - - "Now, the good lady of the house, - Who had an influence o'er her spouse, - Was in that interesting state - Which I can't otherwise relate - Than being such as loving wives - Think the great honour of their lives, - And she thought, if her daily eye - Should view my sad deformity, - It might the happy shape destroy - Of the expected girl or boy; - And ladies, in a certain trim, - Must be indulg'd in ev'ry whim. - Such danger did my form display, - Another hour I must not stay: - But gold was giv'n to heal my pride, - And bribe me to be satisfied. - 'Tis true, kind words explain'd the cause; - Nay, much was said of Nature's laws; - And where that ruling pow'r thought fit, - To her caprice we must submit. - --Thus, once again, if not for ever, - I had to curse th' infernal fever - That did my upright form disgrace, - And rob me of my welcome place. - --At length, brimfull of discontent, - Half-mad, I to the Office went; - Where Fortune seem'd to change my view, - For there she made me known to you. - - "Thus, Sir, I've told my tedious story, - And now a suppliant stand before you: - But in my story, right or wrong, - Truth was the rudder of my tongue. - --I've done, and, in all patience, wait, - To know how you may rule my fate; - And if my hist'ry will commend } - QUAE GENUS, (such may be his end,) } - To you, _Sir Jeff'ry_, as his friend." } - - - - -CANTO III - - - Silence for some short time ensu'd, - Ere conversation was renew'd. - --_Sir Jeff'ry_ first strok'd down his chin, } - With something 'twixt a yawn and grin, } - And then thought proper to begin. } - - "By a great writer it is said, - And one who seldom was betray'd, - When he employ'd his tongue or pen - On the known characters of men: - (And if, perchance, I'm not mistaken, - I think his famous name was BACON,) - That in the changeful scenes of life, - Which raise up enmity and strife, - He may 'gainst others hold his head, - Nor the wide world's opinion dread, - If, though he almost stands alone, - An honest heart maintains its own: - But that he is an arrant fool - Who yields to his own ridicule. - Now such a fool, as we have seen, - QUAE GENUS, from weak pride, has been: - But, though I wonder at his folly, - I will not make him melancholy. - - "Things at the worst, 'tis said, must mend, - And I will prove your real friend, - If you, hereafter, have the sense - To merit my full confidence: - And now, I think, you may prepare - To take my household to your care. - Your pride must not offended be - At putting on a livery, - As that will be the best disguise - To hide you from all prying eyes; - QUAE GENUS, too, you now must yield, - That learned name should be conceal'd; - _Ezekiel_ will suspicion smother, - As well, I think, as any other, - Till I have due enquiry made - If _Gripe-all_ be alive or dead, - And how far I may recommend - The runaway to _Doctor Bend_. - Do what is right--and laugh at fear; - The mark you carry in your rear - Will never intercept the view - Fortune may have in store for you. - No more let vanity resent - The stroke by which your form is bent! - How many in the world's wide range - Would willingly their figures change - For such as yours, and give their wealth - To get your hump and all its health. - Look at my legs--my stomach see, - And tell me, would you change with me? - Nay, when your healthy form I view, } - Though all be-hump'd, I'd change with you, } - And give you half my fortune too. } - Lament no more your loss of beauty, - But give your thoughts to do that duty - Which my peculiar wants require, - And more you need not to desire. - I feel I cannot pay too high - For care and for fidelity: - Let me see that--my heart engages - To give you something more than wages - --Your duties will be found to vary, - As Steward, Nurse, and Secretary: - Thus you will soon my wants attend - Less as a servant than a friend. - You may suppose I little know - Of what is going on below; - My leading wishes are, to prove - That I am duly serv'd above, - And you, as may be daily seen, - Must play the active game between." - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS, IN THE SPORTS OF THE KITCHEN.] - - More pass'd, that needs not our repeating, - About the mystery of eating, - Which did these sage instructions close, - When good _Sir Jeff'ry_ 'gan to doze: - And, soon as he more soundly slept, - Downstairs _Ezekiel_ cautious crept, - (For by that name he now is known, - As fate has chang'd it for his own,) - To let th' expecting folk below - The nature of his office know. - To ev'ry man he gave his fist,-- - The females, too, he warmly kiss'd; - Then to th' assembled kitchen spoke, - But not as if he thought a joke, - Or in a hypocritic glee, - But with a smiling gravity. - "_Sir Jeff'ry's_ household int'rests are - Committed to my faithful care; - And I must hope we all agree - To serve him with fidelity." - To this they all, in order due, - Gave their assent--and bound it too - By words which each one, in their station, - Gave as a solemn declaration. - - The cook and housekeeper began, - And thus her red rag glibly ran; - While, from her knee unto her chin, - She wav'd the floured rolling pin. - "O, may the kettle never boil, - May butter always turn to oil, - And may the jack, the chimney's boast, - From time to time despoil the roast! - May soot fall on the ready stew, - And the cat lick the rich ragout! - May China dish with pie to bake, - While I am speaking, may it crack, - If I e'er took the offer'd bribe - From any of the market tribe, - Or e'er disgrac'd the name of cook - To falsify the kitchen book; - Nay, if I have touch'd or taken, - For my own use, one slice of bacon; - If ever I were such a sinner, - May I now spoil _Sir Jeff'ry's_ dinner; - And should I suffer such disgrace, - I instantly should lose my place!" - - -CHAMBER MAID. - - "May I be hang'd by some bell rope - If e'er I cribb'd an ounce of soap, - Or pocketed wax-candles' ends - To deal out slily to my friends; - Or, in the linen's gen'ral muster, - Made free with towel or with duster; - Or e'er did bribes from turners take, - The mops to spoil, or brooms to break; - Or in the bed-rooms made a stir - To call in the upholsterer, - As house-maids with dishonest view, - Are, as I've heard, so apt to do! - Or ever gave, in washing tub, - The linen a hard, tearing rub, - That might encrease the rags--a fee - Which household custom gives to me! - --That I speak truth, I here declare, - And Molly, too, the same will swear; - Who striking hard upon the dresser, - Hop'd Heaven itself would never bless her, - If, from whate'er she saw or knew - What had been promis'd was not true." - - -KITCHEN MAID. - - "Though I am rather in a flutter, - I vow I never turn'd the butter - Into the pot that might encrease - The perquisite of daily grease; - Nor sought for fat, no, not a bit, - But what dripp'd kindly from the spit, - Or from the plates and dishes came, - When I had daily clean'd the same; - Nor ever let a candle fall - To fill a gaping interval! - Nor did I e'er a doit receive - Which coal-merchants may sometimes give - To those who watch the kitchen-grate, - And keep it in a flaming state; - Who may the poker wield at will - And seldom leave its poking still, - Nor e'er the kitchen blaze controul - By being niggard of the coal: - Charges that are so often laid - To the hard-working, kitchen maid!" - - -FOOTMAN. - - "O may I never, never be - A servant out of livery, - Which is th' ambitious, hop'd-for lot - Of all who wear the shoulder knot! - O may I never quit my place } - Behind the chair, nor shew my face, } - The sideboard's glitt'ring show to grace, } - If, when my master ceas'd to dine, - I ever stole a glass of wine! - O, may my food be pitch and mustard, - If ever I took tart or custard, - If e'er I did my finger dip - In some nice sauce and rub my lip! - If turnpike tolls I e'er enlarg'd,-- - May I this moment be discharg'd!" - - -COACHMAN. - - "May I be flogg'd with thorny briars - If e'er I heard such cursed liars, - And should I venture now to say } - I ne'er purloin'd or corn or hay, } - I should be liar big as they! } - Nay, 'tis such folly to be lying, - And all these trifling tricks denying, - Which, ere a fortnight's past and over, - Mr. _Ezekiel_ must discover. - _Sir Jeff'ry's_ keen look never sees - What are but clever servants' fees, - And he would feel it to his sorrow, - Were he to change us all to-morrow; - For the new steward soon will see - No master's better serv'd than he. - There's not a carriage about town - That looks genteeler than our own; - Or horses with more sprightly air, - Trot through the street or round a square. - I say that we all do our duty, - And if we make a little booty, - We never hear _Sir Jeff._ complain: - And wherefore should one give him pain? - If better servants he should seek, - He must be changing ev'ry week; - And I am sure that kind of strife - Would spoil the quiet of his life: - Nay, as you know, there is no question - Would operate on his digestion; - And when that fails, it is a point - That puts the rest all out of joint. - Thus all our trifling, secret gains - Save him a multitude of pains: - And when our daily work is done, - If we kick up a little fun, - No harm proceeds--no ill is meant-- - He's not disturb'd--and all's content. - --Nay, now my friends, I'll club my shilling, - And you, I'm sure, will be as willing - To drink--that bus'ness may go on - In the same temper it has done, - And, without any treach'rous bother, - That we may understand each other: - That, without boasting or denying, - We need not to continue lying; - And that, disdaining needless fuss, - _Ezekiel_ may be one of us." - - The wine was brought, for vulgar beer - Was not thought proper to appear; - The cook a pigeon pie produc'd, - And other tit-bits that amus'd - The appetites of those who sought 'em, - With thanks to the fat dame who brought 'em. - --Thus the new steward was made free - Of kitchen hospitality; - And to be blind to what he saw, - He was bound down by kitchen law. - - At length, in office thus install'd, - And each was gone where duty call'd, - He, with a pressing arm, embrac'd } - The busy cook's well-fatten'd waist, } - As with her pin she plied the paste; } - When from her active tongue he drew - The duties which he had to do, - And how he might their claims divide, - Nor lean too much to either side. - --Our hero, who now felt his ground, - Thought not of change in what he found; - And that to enter on reform - Would be but to excite a storm, - Disturb the Knight's desir'd repose - And fill a kitchen full of foes. - He plainly saw his station bound him - To be at peace with all around him: - But, as the diff'rent int'rests drew, - He rather trembled at the view. - - Thus, if we may small things compare - With those which more important are, - We may _Ezekiel's_ state apply - To maxims of philosophy, - By which it seems life's changeful hours - Are subject to two adverse powers, - That govern as by time or chance, - Nay, struggle for predominance; - While each, at diff'rent hours, may be - Possess'd of short-liv'd victory, - As varying impulses may bind - The operations of the mind. - Here selfish int'rest will prevail-- - There gen'rous feeling turns the scale; - So that he neither can be said - Strictly to be or good or bad; - But in the one or other sense, - Of that presiding influence - Which counteracting views may give, - And the complying mind receive. - Thus, subject to these adverse powers, - In diff'rent places--diff'rent hours-- - Poor mortal man, by their constraint, - May be a sinner or a saint. - To day he's wading to the chin - In folly's stream, through thick and thin; - While, on the morrow, he may prove - What virtue's self delights to love. - - 'Twas in this case our hero stood: - He might be bad--he might be good; - If good, he must the kitchen sweep-- - If bad, its tricks a secret keep; - But if he would preserve his cloth, - He must determine to be both. - Thus, as he took a thoughtful view, } - He saw, his int'rest to pursue, } - He must divide himself in two. } - Above to stick to rigid plan-- - Below to join the lively clan: - In what _Sir Jeff'ry_ did entrust - To his sole province, to be just; - But ne'er to interrupt the show - That was kept up by friends below: - At least, he was resolv'd to try - This system of philosophy; - To be a favourite with all, - In drawing room and servants' hall. - From all that he at present view'd, - No other plan could be pursu'd; - No other method could he trace, - To be at ease and keep his place. - Up-stairs to serious care he went, } - Down-stairs to stolen merriment, } - And thus the day and night were spent. } - - _Sir Jeff'ry_, in a tone of pleasure, - Talk'd of _Ezekiel_ as a treasure; - And, far as the good Knight could tell, - He merited the title well: - Nay, it is true, he never fail'd - To meet the humour that prevail'd; - And through the day, from morn till night, - _Sir Jeff'ry_ found that all was right. - But when he slumb'ring sought his bed, - And on the pillow laid his head, - Then did our hero quit his post - And pass away like midnight ghost; - Then did he from his virtue move, - The power that rul'd him when above, - And seek the lively sports below; - For what could puzzled hunch-back do? - Could he another course prefer? - No,--he must take things as they were. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS, IN THE SERVICE OF SIR. JEFFERY GOURMAND.] - - In this wide world, how oft is seen - A phantom with alluring mien, - Y'clep'd Temptation, whose sweet smiles - Too oft the stoutest heart beguiles. - Whate'er its forms, they seldom fail - Sooner or later to prevail. - If it assumes a golden shower, - Or sits in any seat of power, - How numerous the slavish band - Who offer to obey command: - Still, some examples may be shown - Of those whose virtues would disown - Its influence, and refuse to fly, - Or yield the palm of victory. - But where's the heart that e'er disdains - The pow'r that dwells where beauty reigns? - If such a question we propose, - _Ezekiel_ was not one of those; - And thus below-stairs he began - To break upon his up-stairs plan: - Nay, this same rigid rule of right, } - In his close duties to the Knight, } - He now thought might be drawn too tight; } - And that, in trifles, to his feeling, - He might be safe in double dealing, - And in the drawing-room apply - The aid of kitchen policy: - But he as soon would think of murther - As to proceed an atom further. - How he thus happen'd to decline - From his strict, philosophic line; - Why he relax'd from law severe - In the Knight's upper atmosphere, - Will not surprise one human creature - Who the world knows, or human nature, - Or recollects the joy or smart - When passion first invades the heart. - - There were two objects most bewitching, - That sparkled all around the kitchen; - Though so bright was every kettle, - Or plate or pan of various metal, - That each might gaze upon a face - As if they peep'd into a glass: - Though fire-irons did reveal - The shining of the polish'd steel,-- - Yet these superior pow'rs display'd, - Than aught by human artist made: - In short, to state what they could be, - And silence curiosity, - They were two eyes which lustre shed - Where'er the owner turn'd her head; - Though they gave not the only grace - That play'd on Molly's charming face. - But whether 'twas her lips or nose, - Or the fine curve of auburn brows, - That aided the commanding eye - In its well-play'd artillery, - Howe'er that be--in his warm heart - _Ezekiel_ had receiv'd the dart, - And as its ruling power he felt, - Each steady purpose 'gan to melt:-- - For her he might his virtue stake } - And let his yielding conscience quake, } - Nay, cheat _Sir Jeff'ry_ for her sake. } - - 'Tis not the office of the Muse, - On slight suspicions, to accuse; - Nor does she now present to view - More than 'tis probable she knew: - But one day, and it may be more, - His constant meal of dainties o'er, - Dull nature did the Knight incline - To snore a little o'er his wine. - Our hero, seeing Molly pass, - He tempted her to take a glass; - For, in his state of tender feeling, - What gen'rous mind will call it stealing? - And scorn'd be they who think it treason - Against the better rules of reason, - If, in return, he sought a kiss; - But as he seiz'd the melting bliss, - Tall Margery was passing by - By chance or curiosity: - She glanc'd at all was onward going, - And what _Ezekiel_ was bestowing; - When, as she cast her leering eye, - Thus thought her rising jealousy. - "If, Sir, you give Miss Moll the glass, - I'll try to make a bottle pass;" - Then push'd her stout arm by the door, - The sideboard's juices to explore. - If 'twas by chance the action came, - Or if a purpos'd trick's to blame, - A smart kick caus'd the door to close - And caught the damsel by the nose. - The luckless nose was rather long, - And had its gristle not been strong, - Had not the door been edg'd with baize - To give its hurried motion ease,-- - Had it been sharp, the wicked pinch - Might have cut short that nose an inch. - - _Madge_ now scream'd out at her disaster, } - And swore that she would tell her master, } - But our _Ezekiel_ found a plaister; } - Though what the plaister was he found - To silence tongues and cure the wound, - We must not nice enquiry make - For virtue's and our hero's sake. - But we may tell, for this we know, - That all was still and calm below; - Though as the faithful verse will prove - He shap'd another plan above, - Form'd to controul all household feud, - And be as honest as he could; - Thus give to things another face - To live at ease and keep his place. - --Two int'rests into one were thrown, - Those of _Sir Jeff'ry_ and his own: - The former strictly to maintain, - Nor yet the latter to disdain; - The Knight's confiding grace to keep, - Nor let his own advantage sleep; - The kitchen's jovial mirth to boast, - But leave the cook to rule the roast; - To be of Molly's smiles possest, - Though never to offend the rest: - And here we fear is the beginning, - The first short lesson of his sinning. - - So young, and with such little sense - Of what is call'd--experience; - And whom the world had not yet taught, - As it might do, to set at nought - What conscience tells us we should shun, - What we should do or leave undone; - Or, with a certain self-deceit, - The virtues of the heart to cheat, - He certainly appears to be - Envelop'd in perplexity, - And verging on a dang'rous scrape - From which he might not make escape - Without a loss which he would rue - Of the fair prospects in his view; - And thus be on a sudden hurl'd - Faithless and friendless on the world. - - As in his plan this hasty change - Was, it may seem, so very strange, - It therefore may be well to know - From whence such awkward motives flow, - For awkward motives they must be - Which trench upon integrity. - It was not Molly's sparkling eyes - Which sought his virtue to surprise; - For though he might her heart beguile - To yield his wish a fav'ring smile, - She ne'er allow'd of a pretence - Beyond the claim of Innocence. - - There is a proverb so well known - It would be ign'rance not to own - The having heard and felt its truth - E'en in the days of early youth, - That, if we chance with those to live - Whose lives a bad example give, - They will convey, as we shall find, - A foul contagion to the mind. - Thus for a time _Ezekiel_ stood - Firm as the tree that crowns the wood, - But, after mocking ev'ry blast, - Will sometimes bend and fall at last. - Though whether he began to shake, - Or only suffer'd twigs to break, - But still retain'd his fibres bound, } - In firm defiance to the ground, } - While the main trunk, tho' shook, was sound, } - Is what the curious mind shall know, - And no far distant page will show. - Thus the humble verse will trace - His future honour or disgrace; - As intermingled they must be - With scenes of household history. - - When good _Sir Jeff'ry's_ gout was kind - And to his bed he was confin'd; - No dainty dinner to be got, - And nought but messes in the pot, - The kitchen folk, then quite at leisure, - Would think of more than common pleasure; - Then butlers of the higher station, - And valets to gay men of fashion, - Invited were, to join the ball - Now given in the servants' hall, - With ladies' maids who titles bore - Of mistresses--whose gowns they wore; - And sometimes a smart tradesman, too, - Would pop in to say--_how do ye do_. - --Here all home secrets were betray'd-- } - The various tricks which servants play'd, } - And how their fortunes could be made. } - When one grave man his silence broke, - And thus to our _Ezekiel_ spoke:-- - "Had I," says he, "so fine a place, - As your superior manners grace; - Had I a rich man in my keeping, - Who passes half his time in sleeping; - Whose purse is always in your view, - And lets you pay his tradesmen too; - While, that he may enjoy his ease, - He makes you guardian of his keys, - My growing fortune soon should flow, - And in a way he ne'er should know. - If by his bed you are his nurse, - And have the jingling of his purse; - If, when the doctor comes to see him, - And you are calmly told to fee him, - You must be nam'd the veriest elf - If, then, you do not fee yourself: - Nay, when his fingers, cramp'd with gout, - Cannot well take a _sovereign_ out, - And he should bid you take out four, - Contrive to grapple five or more. - 'Tis when he's sick with aches and ails, - When pain torments and mem'ry fails, - When the night's pass'd his bed beside, - Then Fortune tells you to provide - For future wants,--and bless the hour - That gives the means into your power: - Nor ever fail, on some pretence, - To rail against the rash expense - Which doctors and their varlets bring - To patients, sick and suffering, - Till you can get him to exclaim-- - 'Expense is a mere idle name; - Of cost let your complainings cease, - I care not so it gives me ease:' - Then offer up your thanks to Heaven - That to his fortune it is given - To be thus blest with ample wealth, - At any cost to purchase health. - This is your harvest; I shall tell - Another story when he's well: - That time's but short,--though let him see - That then you're all economy. - When he can settle an account, - And look into the just amount, - Then, then let ev'ry thing appear - Just as it ought--correct and clear. - Thus let your speculations rove - When well below, when sick above, - And all I'm worth I now would stake - You will, in time, a fortune make. - Rich as he is, and careless too, - With such a confidence in you, - _Sir Jeffery_ will never feel - Your happy turn in fortune's wheel." - - "Hold, hold awhile," the list'ner said, - "This is too much," and shook his head; - "For still I feel, without offence, - I've not quite done with Conscience, - Nor can so boldly lay aside - The warnings of that faithful guide! - Am I this moment to forget - How much I'm in _Sir Jeff'ry's_ debt, - And thus, with chance of foul disgrace, - To play the rogue and risque my place?" - "No, no," his counsellor replied, - "Servants and masters are allied; - Each is to each a foster-brother, - And have their claims on one another. - An useful servant is a treasure, - Whose service masters seldom measure. - What I now from my heart commend, - As an experienc'd, willing friend, - Is not to rob or place your paw - On what is guarded by the law, - But such as are no more than fees - For all your extra services; - For duties which no pay engages, - Under the common name of wages; - For what your varied service grants - To all his fancied, sickly wants, - Which never can your toil requite - For all you do by day or night. - - "When _Sir Jeffery_ fortune gain'd, - By contracts from the State obtain'd, - Think you he had a pious loathing - To crib a yard from soldiers' clothing? - And when he did his thousands touch, - To say--'my lord, I've got too much; - And I am ready to confess - I should have done the job for less.' - How could such men their fortunes make - Did they but fair advantage take! - And have you not an equal claim, - In a small way, to do the same? - --When the Knight took his daily range - From _Mincing Lane_ to the _Exchange_, - And calculated as he went, - How he should make his _Cent. per Cent._ - Think you that he was over-nice - To fix his rate of merchandise? - When his ships sought some foreign strand, - Did he disdain the contraband, - If he could but with safety chouse - The sentries of the custom-house? - A little smuggling all allow, - But only mind the when and how: - Take your _per centage_, but with care; - And who will say it is not fair? - --I've serv'd the wealthy and the great, - Nay once a Minister of state, - And as I saw that in his station - He did not fail to rob the nation, - I thought I might indulge the whim, - As a turn serv'd, to pilfer him. - I courted too my Lady's maid, - For Charlotte understood her trade: - I form'd my plan and did espouse her, - Then started up a tonish grocer, - Kept butlers in my constant pay - Who serve me in the usual way, - And all the house-keepers around - With certain something in the pound. - Now hear the advantage which I share - From all my caution, all my care! - I have a genteel, pleasant home, - To ladies let my drawing-room, - And in a whisky I can ride - With Charlotte smiling by my side. - 'Tis thus I offer to your view, - What I have done,--for you to do." - - Here this fine conversation ended, - But not, perhaps, as was intended, - Which strong temptations might display - To lead th' unsettled mind astray; - And, for a time, as fancy play'd, - Now beaming light, now seeking shade, - _Ezekiel_ hover'd o'er the plan - Of specious rogue or honest man. - Perhaps a smart, neat, pleasant shop, - Did on his pericranium pop, - With his warm, faithful wish to crown, - The lovely Molly then his own: - Such interests might his purpose guide, - Till he was questioned by his pride;-- - "--But can this be a proper plan - For one bred like a gentleman? - 'Tis true I cannot change the show } - Of kitchen policy below, } - There I must yield, I'm bound to know: } - But, in the regions above, - The whole in rectitude shall move; - To the Knight's goodness I may trust, - And faithful will I be and just; - Nor ever take or e'en receive - But what his favour's pleas'd to give; - Nor shall reproach my mind disgrace - Whene'er I look him in the face." - Such were his thoughts,--the grocer fail'd. - Thus honesty at length prevail'd, - And sav'd him, as things shortly stood, - From baseness of ingratitude. - - In a few days the parting gout - Gave the Knight leave to go about, - And one day in his arm-chair plac'd, - The table with its luncheon grac'd, - Smiling, as he luxurious sat, - He thus let loose his easy chat. - - "This soup, my friend's a special treat, - Fit for an Emperor to eat, - And now, my pleasure to pursue, - I trust I have a treat for you. - I've spar'd no pains to know the fate - That on your future hopes may wait, - And what I shall proceed to tell - May altogether please you well, - Unless you are resolv'd to try - New whims and tricks of foolery, - On which, however will depend, - Whether your master is your friend. - If, at all points, the news I bring - May not be quite so flattering; - Yet surely it deserves at least, - To be thought good, if not the best. - --You need no longer stand in awe - Of any terrors of the law, - The beating you to _Gripe-all_ gave - Did little harm to that same knave, - For he surviv'd to play a prank, - By robbing of a country bank, - And fled, as his late neighbours say, - To flourish in America. - Thither your fortune too is gone, - But then your fears are also flown. - Time, it is hop'd may make amends, - Fortune and you may still be friends; - Nor shall I my best wishes smother - To introduce you to each other. - My growing favour you will see, - So lay aside your livery: - Hence you will need not a disguise - 'Gainst curious thoughts and prying eyes: - Your former title you may claim, - Again QUAE GENUS is your name: - Be faithful, and you soon shall know - The kindness I may yet bestow. - Nay, be but honest, while I live } - Your upright service shall receive } - All that my grateful hand should give: } - Nor doubt my purpose as sincere,-- - More may be meant than meets the ear." - - What heart, with the least sense of good, - That would not melt with gratitude, - When such a gen'rous friend was near - The clouded scenes of life to cheer, - And bid the drooping hopes pursue - A brighter prospect now in view! - And where's the heart that would not feel, - And where's the tongue that could conceal - The sense that virtue had withstood - Such specious efforts to delude! - QUAE GENUS the sensation felt - That bade repenting thoughts to melt; - Nay, he e'en cast his eyes to Heaven, - With doubts that he should be forgiven - For having listen'd to deceit - And almost yielded to the cheat, - Whose principles had he obey'd - As in the grocer's scheme display'd, - All trembling he should now have stood - A monster of ingratitude. - What he had 'scap'd his heart confess'd, - And his moist eyes confirm'd the rest. - With ev'ry grateful feeling fraught - He spoke not, but 'twas thus he thought:-- - "My ever-watchful care shall tend - To make me worthy such a friend, - And all my kindred virtues burn - To make that friend a due return." - - The Knight, with kindness, view'd the feeling, - Which poor QUAE GENUS was revealing; - When, to cut short the pleasing pain - Which words were failing to explain, - He smiling bade him take his way - To the known duties of the day. - - Of words there was a mute hiatus, - And of the noon-tide apparatus - The table quickly was bereft, - While with some new-born pamphlet left, - _Sir Jeffery_ calmly was proceeding - To gratify his usual reading, - When our QUAE GENUS bore away - The fragments of the lighten'd tray, - And sought his pantry's cool retreat, - Where, lolling on a welcome seat, - He let his busy fancy range - Throughout the unexpected change, - That did upon his fortune wait; - And still, though humble was his state, - Scarce could he think it a disaster - To wait the will of such a master; - Nor did his pride reluctant bend, - Since that same master was his friend. - All that indulgence could bestow - _Sir Jeff'ry_ did not fail to show; - And, when alone, it seem'd to please - The knight to set him at his ease, - And shrink the distance to a span - Between the master and the man. - --Nay, here it cannot be denied } - That it was soothing to his pride } - To lay the shoulder-knot aside. } - The liv'ried dress of red and brown - He thus was call'd on to disown: - In blue and buff, or buff and blue - He now appear'd to daily view. - The knight allow'd the taylor's art - By all its power to make him smart; - And Snip with his consummate skill, - In working drapery to his will, - By his contrivance gave the cape - A flow to soften down the shape, - So that the hump could scarce be said - His general figure to degrade, - Nor, to a common view, be seen - To indispose his pleasing mien. - - Thus did he sit and calmly bless - The hopes of promis'd happiness. - - - - -CANTO IV - - - The various, the uncertain views - Which the all-anxious world pursues, - While it directs its searching eye - To what is call'd prosperity, - Compose the gen'ral, pictur'd strife - That forms the daily scene of life; - And make up the uncertain measure - Of power, of riches, and of pleasure; - Which, whatsoe'er may be our state, } - Do on the varying projects wait } - Of lowly poor or princely great: } - For as all worldly things move on - We weigh them by comparison. - Thus he who boasts his little all - At a street-corner on a stall, - Tempting the gaze of wandering eyes - To view the transient merchandise, - Will look to Fortune's smile to bless - His humble trading with success, - As he whose freighted vessel sails - O'er distant seas with doubtful gales. - Nay, in Ambition's humble school - Perceive we not the love of rule, - O'er rustic swains to bear the rod - And be a village demi-god? - To gain command and take the lead - Where mean submission courts a head, - Does in the lowest class prevail - Of vulgar thoughts to turn the scale, - As that which on their wishes wait, - Whose object is to rule the state. - --Seek you for pleasure as it flows, - In ev'ry soil the flow'ret grows; - From the pale primrose of the dale - Nurs'd only by the vernal gale, - To the rich plant of sweets so rare } - Whose tints the rainbow colours share } - And drinks conservatorial air. } - But, 'tis so subject to the blast, - It cannot promise long to last; - Though still it 'joys the fragrant day, - Till nature bids it pass away. - The rude boy turns the circling rope, - Or flies a kite or spins a top, - When, a stout stripling, he is seen - With bat and ball upon the green; - The later pleasures then await - On humble life whate'er its state, - And are with equal ardor sought - As those with high refinement wrought, - Where birth and wealth and taste combine - To make the festive brilliance shine. - - Thus the same passions govern all - Who creep on this terrestrial ball: - Their objects, truly, are the same, - However shap'd, whate'er their name. - What though the varying plan confounds - In giving sixpences or pounds, - In velvet or in home-spun cloth, - They may be base curmudgeons both. - Some are by charity enroll'd - On tablets proud in lines of gold, - While others, as by stealth, convey - The mite that shuns the light of day; - Though each performs a diff'rent part, - Each may possess a Christian heart. - - It is not upon wealth alone - That happiness erects its throne: - How oft, alas! it is we see - The rich involv'd in misery; - How oft is view'd in reason's eye - The wants which wealth can ne'er supply! - The way to power may be betray'd, - Though 'tis with solid gold inlaid; - Nay, purchas'd pleasure prove deceit, - And be at length a very cheat. - --How weak, how vain is human pride, - Dares man upon himself confide: - The wretch who glories in his gain - Amasses heaps on heaps in vain. - Why lose we life, in anxious cares, - To lay in hoards for future years? - Can they, when tortur'd by disease, - Cheer our sick heart and purchase ease? - Can they prolong one gasp of breath, - Or calm the troubled hour of death? - What's man in all his boasted sway? - Perhaps the tyrant of a day. - Can he in all the pride of power - Ensure his honours for an hour? - Alike the laws of life take place - Through ev'ry branch of human race: - The monarch, of long regal line, - Was rais'd from dust as frail as mine. - Can he pour health into his veins - Or cool the fever's restless pains? - Can he worn down in nature's course - New brace his feebled nerves with force? - Can he, how vain is mortal power, - Stretch life beyond the destin'd hour? - - "Consider, man, weigh well thy frame; - The king, the beggar, is the same, - Dust form'd us all,--each breathes his day, } - Then sinks into his mortal clay." } - Thus wrote the fabling Muse of GAY. } - - Such thoughts as these of moral kind - QUAE GENUS weigh'd within his mind: - For wherefore should it not be thought } - That, as his early mind was taught, } - It might be with sage maxims fraught? } - --Thus seated, or as he stood sentry, - Sole guardian of the butler's pantry, - Which lock'd up all the household state, - The cumbrance rich of massy plate, - And all the honour that could grace - The power of superior place, - That did acknowledg'd rank bestow - O'er all the kitchen-folk below; - What wonder that his mind should range - On hopes that waited on the change - Which unexpected Fortune's power - Seem'd on his present state to shower. - Though while his wand'ring mind embrac'd - The present time as well as past, - The visions of the future too - Gave a fair prospect to his view. - But life this well-known feature bears, - Our _hopes_' associates are our _fears_, - And ever seem, in reason's eye, - As struggling for the mastery, - In which they play their various part, - To gain that citadel the heart. - - Thus though our Hero's honest pride - Was, for the present, satisfied; - And did things, as they seem'd to show, - Promise to stay in _Statu Quo_, - He, surely, would have ask'd no more - For Fortune on his lot to pour, - And with all due contentment wait - For what might be his future fate: - But while the present hour beguiles - His cheerful mind with cheering smiles, - The forward thought would strive to sow - An awkward wrinkle on his brow. - Now, strange as the event appears, - The source of all his hopes and fears - Was on each settled point the same, - And _Jeff'ry Gourmand_ was its name. - - The Knight most gen'rous was and free, - And kind as kindest heart could be, - So that QUAE GENUS scarce could trace - The humbling duties of his place. - Whate'er he did was sure to please, - No fretful whims appear'd to tease; - And while with fond attention shown, - He did each willing duty own, - Sir _Jeff'ry_ frequent smiles bestow'd, - And many a kind indulgence show'd, - And oftentimes would wants repress - To make his fav'rite's labours less: - Nay, when he dawdled o'er his meat, } - Would nod and bid him take a seat } - To share the lux'ry of the treat. } - --He fancied, and it might be true, - That none about him e'er could do - What his peculiar wants required, - And in the way he most desired, - As _his_ QUAE GENUS, thus he claim'd him, - Whene'er to other folk he nam'd him. - Indeed, he took it in his head - That no one else could warm his bed, - And give it that proportion'd heat - That gave due warmth to either sheet. - - Our Hero rather lik'd the plan, - As Molly brought the warming-pan, - And having pass'd it through the door, - Waited without till all was o'er. - Thus, having rang'd the alarum-bell, - With other things I must not tell, - And seen Sir _Jeff'ry's_ pillow'd head - Turning to rest within his bed, - QUAE GENUS bore the pan away - Where Molly fair was us'd to stay. - He was to honour firm, and she - The mirror bright of Chastity. - Thus half an hour was often spent - In interchange of sentiment, - Which doubtless was some tender theme: - A subject for a pleasing dream. - - All this tells well,--nor was this all; - The sceptre of the servants'-hall - Was now committed to his hand; - O'er that he had supreme command, - But such his mild and smiling sway, - All felt a pleasure to obey; - And 'twas the kitchen's daily toast, - Long may QUAE GENUS rule the roast. - Tradesmen did to his worth subscribe, - For bills were paid without a bribe; - And good Sir _Jeffery_ quite content - How the allotted income went, - At no accounts e'er gave a look, - But those which fill'd his Banker's book. - - What could our Hero more desire, - What more his anxious wish require, - When with a calm and reas'ning eye - He ponder'd o'er his destiny, - As he unwound the tangled thread - That to his present comforts led, - And serv'd as a directing clue - In such strange ways to guide him through? - --To what new heights his hopes might soar, - It would be needless to explore: - For now the threat'ning time appears - When he is troubled with his fears. - His hopes have triumph'd o'er the past; - But then the present may not last; - And what succession he might find - Harass'd with doubts his anxious mind. - --Of the gross, cumbrous flesh the load - Sir _Jeffery_ bore did not forebode - Through future years a ling'ring strife - Between the powers of death and life; - The legs puff'd out with frequent swell, - Did symptoms of the dropsy tell; - The stiffen'd joints no one could doubt - Were children of a settled gout; - And humours redd'ning on the face, - Bespoke the Erysipelas. - Indeed, whene'er QUAE GENUS view'd, - With rich and poignant sauce embued, - As dish to dish did there succeed, - Which seem'd by Death compos'd to feed - With fatal relishes to please - The curious taste of each disease, - That did Sir _Jeffery's_ carcase share - And riot on the destin'd fare: - When thus he watch'd th' insidious food, - He fear'd the ground on which he stood. - --Oft did he curse the weighty haunch - Which might o'ercharge Sir _Jeff'ry's_ paunch; - And to the turtle give a kick, - Whose callipash might make him sick. - He only pray'd Sir _Jeff'ry's_ wealth - Might keep on life and purchase health. - "Let him but live," he would exclaim, - "And fortune I will never blame." - Money is oft employ'd in vain, - To cure disease and stifle pain; - And though he hop'd yet still he fear'd - Whene'er grave Galen's self appear'd; - For when the solemn Doctor came, - (Sir MIDRIFF BOLUS was his name,) - He often in a whisper said, - "I wonder that he is not dead, - Nay, I must own, 'tis most surprising, - That such a length of gormandising - Has not ere this produc'd a treat - For hungry church-yard worms to eat, - And 'tis the skill by which I thrive - That keeps him to this hour alive. - Nay, though I now Sir _Jeffery_ see } - In spirits and such smiling glee, } - I tremble for to-morrow's fee." } - --When this brief tale he chose to tell - And ring his patient's fun'ral bell, - QUAE GENUS fail'd not to exclaim, - As he call'd on the Doctor's name, - "O tell me not of the disaster - That I must feel for such a master, - Nay, I may add, for such a friend - Were I to go to the world's end, - Alas, my journey would be vain, - Another such I ne'er should gain!" - - Sir MIDRIFF, member of the college, - And of high standing for his knowledge, - In lab'ring physic's mystic sense - And practical experience, - As common fame was pleas'd to say, - Expected more than common pay. - Now, as Sir _Jeff'ry_ never thought - His health could be too dearly bought, - Whene'er the healing Knight was seen, - Wrapt up within the Indian screen, - To shape the drugs that might becalm - Some secret pain or sudden qualm; - Or when there was a frequent question, - Of bile's o'erflow and indigestion, - Or some more serious want had sped - Sir _Jeff'ry Gourmand_ to his bed, - QUAE GENUS fail'd not to convey - (For he had learn'd the ready way), - The two-fold fee, by strict command, - Into Sir _Midriff's_ ready hand. - Thus, in this kind of double dealing, - The Doctor had a pleasant feeling, - That seem'd to work up a regard - For him who gave the due reward, - And knew so well to shape the fee - From the sick chamber's treasury. - Thus when our Hero told his pain } - And did his future fears explain, } - _Galen_ replied,--"Those fears restrain, } - To this grave promise pray attend, - Sir _Midriff Bolus_ is your friend." - - Such, when he touch'd the welcome fees, - Were the sly Doctor's promises: - QUAE GENUS with good grace receiv'd 'em, - Though 'tis not said that he believ'd 'em. - --No, never was a visit past, - But it was hinted as the last, - Had they not been in lucky trim - To have sent off post-haste for him. - Whene'er the Knight's legs took to swelling, - All ears were bor'd with sad foretelling; - And if his chest was over-loaded, - Some dire disaster was foreboded, - But failing in prophetic story, - He gave his science all the glory. - A year, howe'er, was past and gone, - And all the household cares went on, - In active zeal and order too, - As all such matters ought to do, - With hours of leisure well employ'd, - And many a fantasy enjoy'd. - - But something yet remains to know:-- - To manage _two strings to your bow_, - A maxim is, which ev'ry age - Has rend'red venerably sage, - And forms a more than useful rule - In the world's universal school. - Sir _Jeffery_, we make no doubt, - In various ways had found it out: - It might have help'd him on to wealth, - And now to aid the wants of health, - He kept the adage in his view, } - And as one Doctor might not do, } - It now appears that he had two. } - The one, in order due, has been - Brought forth on the dramatic scene, - Ranks high in bright collegiate fame, - And M. D. decorates his name. - He never ventures to prescribe - But what is known to all the tribe, - Who hold the dispensarial reign - Beneath the dome of Warwick-Lane. - The other, steering from the track - Of learned lore, was styl'd a Quack; - Who, by a secret skill, composes - For many an ill his sovereign doses: - But whether right or wrong, the town - Had given his nostrums some renown. - Salves for all wounds, for each disease - Specifics that could give it ease, - Balsams, beyond all human praise, - That would prolong our mortal days. - All these, in many a puffing paper, - Are seen in striking forms to vapour, - As, in the Magazines they shine, - The boast of Doctor ANODYNE. - His office was advice to give - In his own house from morn till eve, - And a green door, within a court, - Mark'd out the place of snug resort, - Where patients could indulge the feeling - That might dispose them to concealing - The nervous hope, the sly desire - To eke out life's expiring fire, - Without the danger to expose - Their secret or to friends or foes. - Sir _Jeffery_ was one of these - Who thought it was no waste of fees, - Though they were toss'd about by stealth, - If he could think they purchas'd health: - But here, who will not say, it seems - He guarded life by two extremes. - Sir _Midriff_ told him he must starve, - And _Anodyne_ to cut and carve: - But though the first he nobly paid, - It was the latter he obey'd. - Full often was his _Merc'ry_ sent - To bring back med'cine and content; - Permission, what he wish'd, to eat, } - And physic to allay the heat } - Brought on by a luxurious treat; } - To give the stomach strength to bear it, - With some enliv'ning dose to cheer it. - But still our Hero's watchful eye - Saw that this sensuality - Was bringing matters to an end, - That he too soon should lose his friend; - And in what way he should supply - The loss when that same friend should die, - Did often o'er his senses creep - When he should have been fast asleep. - Sir _Midriff_ to his promise swore, - And _Anodyne_ had promis'd more, - Both had prescrib'd or more or less, - A future vision of success: - But time has still some steps to move, - Before they their engagements prove; - Ere our QUAE GENUS we shall see - In a new line of history. - - Sir _Jeffery_ now began to droop, - Nor was he eager for his soup: - He blunder'd on the wrong ragout, } - Nor harangu'd o'er a fav'rite stew, } - Scarce wild-duck from a widgeon knew. } - No longer thought it an abuse, - To see St. MICH: without a goose. - Unless prepar'd with cordial strong, - He hardly heard the jovial song, - Or hearing, had not strength to move - And strike the table to approve. - Nay, sometimes his unsteady hand - Could not the rubied glass command, - But forc'd him slowly to divide - The rosy bumper's flowing tide. - Beside him oft QUAE GENUS sat - An hour, and not a word of chat; - And when he was in sleepy taking - The news would scarcely keep him waking. - - --It was a melancholy showing, - But poor Sir _Jeffery_ was a-going. - "Indulge his gormandising swallow, - And apoplexy soon must follow," - Such did Sir _Midriff's_ sage foreknowledge - Give as the doctrine of the College. - "--Now, if you dare to keep him low, - A dropsy gives the fatal blow. - Remember, my good friend, I pray, - What _Anodyne_ is pleas'd to say." - When, in a kind of solemn croak, - The Quack, with shaking noddle, spoke. - - Thus did the differing doctors fail, - Nor could their varying skill prevail: - They neither could set matters right, - Or quicken a pall'd appetite. - More weak and weak Sir _Jeffery_ grew, - Nay, wasted to the daily view, - And, as his faithful servant found, - Between two stools he fell to ground. - But still he smelt the sav'ry meat, } - He sometimes still would eye the treat, } - And praise the dish he could not eat. } - One day, when in a sunshine hour, - To pick a bit he felt the power, - Just as he did his knife apply - To give a slice of oyster-pie, - Whether the effort was too great - To bear the morsel to his plate; - Or if, from any other cause, - His nature made a gen'ral pause, - He gave a groan, it was his last, - And life and oyster-pies were past. - - Which of the Doctors did the deed, - The one who starv'd or he who fed, - Or whether Nature, nothing loth, - Laugh'd at the counsels of them both, - And, as they issued their commands, - Her victim took from both their hands, - I know not, but it seems to me, - To be the work of all the three. - - Here it would be but idle folly - To call on fruitless melancholy, - To talk of blisters that in vain - Were spread to bring back life again; - Or all the lancet's power explore - To wake the breath that breath'd no more; - The stroke was struck, no human art - Could now withdraw the fatal dart. - - Mutes marching on, in solemn pace, - With gladden'd heart and sorrowing face, - Who, clad in black attire, for pay - Let out their sorrows by the day: - The nodding plumes and 'scutcheon'd hearse - Would make a pretty show in verse; - But 'tis enough, Sir _Jeffery_ dead, - That his remains, enshrin'd in lead, - And, cloth'd in all their sad array, - To mingle with their native clay, - Were safe convey'd to that same bourne - From whence no travellers return. - --We must another track pursue, } - Life's varying path we have in view,-- } - Our way QUAE GENUS is with you! } - - - - -CANTO V - - - As our enlighten'd reason ranges - O'er man and all his various changes, - What sober thoughts the scenes supply, - To hamper our philosophy; - To make the expanding bosom swell - With the fine things the tongue can tell! - And it were well, that while we preach, - We practice, what we're fain to teach. - O, here might many a line be lent, - To teach the mind to learn content, - And with a manly spirit bear - The stroke of disappointing care; - Awake a just disdain to smile - On muckworm fortune base and vile, - Look on its threatnings to betray, - As darksome clouds that pass away, - And call on cheering hope to see - Some future, kind reality. - --All who Sir _Jeffery_ knew could tell - Our Hero serv'd him passing well; - Nay to the care which he bestow'd } - The Knight a lengthen'd period ow'd, } - And such the thanks he oft avow'd. } - QUAE GENUS never lost his views - Of duty and its faithful dues; - His honour no one could suspect, - Nor did he mark with cold neglect - Those services which intervene } - In a sick chamber's sickly scene: } - His duty thought no office mean, } - And to Sir _Jeffery's_ closing sigh - All, all was warm fidelity. - Nay, thus the Knight would frequent own - A grateful sense of service done; - And oft, in words like these, he said, - That duty shall be well repaid. - "QUAE GENUS, know me for your friend, - I to your welfare shall attend; - Your friend while I retain my breath, - And when that's gone, your friend in death." - That death he felt as a disaster, - For, to speak truth, he lov'd his master, - Nor did he doubt that a reward - Would prove that master's firm regard. - - 'Tis nature, in life's worst vexation, - To look at least for consolation; - And he, 'tis true, had turn'd his eye - To a consoling legacy, - That might, at least, make some amends, - For losing this his best of friends; - But his ill luck we must not smother; - He lost the one, nor found the other. - The will was full of good intent, - And a warm legacy was meant - To poor QUAE GENUS, there's no doubt, - But shuffling Fortune left it out; - 'Twas she cut short the kind bequest, - Which was thus fatally express'd. - - "To this my last and solemn Will - I add by way of Codicil, - My true and faithful servant's name, - Who to my care has every claim: - --To JOHN QUAE GENUS I bequeath - One month posterior to my death, - The sum of - Here a blank ensued - Which has not yet been understood, - Or why the figures were delay'd - That would a sterling gift have made. - Whether a sudden twitch of gout - Caus'd him to leave the figures out; - Or visit of a chatt'ring friend - That did th' important words suspend, - And thus retard the kind design, - Until the 'morrow's sun should shine, - That 'morrow with its ha's and hums, - Which, often promis'd, never comes: - Howe'er the enquiring mind may guess - It cannot find the wish'd success: - In short, whatever cause prevail'd, - Too true, the gen'rous purpose fail'd. - In the Knight's mind the boon was will'd, - But still the blank was never fill'd, - And no more the said will engages - Than mourning suit and one year's wages, - Which all his household should inherit - Whate'er their station or their merit: - Here no distinction was display'd - 'Tween high and low, 'tween man and maid, - And though QUAE GENUS was the first, - He had his portion with the worst. - - Our Hero thought it wond'rous hard - Thus to be foil'd of his reward, - That which, in ev'ry point of view, - He felt to be his honest due; - And both his master and his friend - Did to his services intend; - Which, as the sun at noontide clear, - Does by the codicil appear: - But when he ask'd Sir _Jeffery's_ heir } - (Who did so large a fortune share) } - The blank hiatus to repair, } - Which he with truth could represent - As an untoward accident, - The wealthy merchant shook his head - And bade him go and ask the dead. - QUAE GENUS ventur'd to reply - While his breast heav'd a painful sigh, - "The dead, you know, Sir, cannot speak, - But could the grave its silence break, - I humbly ask your gen'rous heart, - Would not its language take my part, - Would it not utter, 'O fulfil - The purpose of the codicil?' - Would it not tell you to supply - The blank with a due legacy?" - The rich man, turning on his heel, - Did not the rising taunt conceal. - "All that the grave may please to say, - I promise, friend, I will obey." - - What could be done with this high Cit, - But to look sad and to submit; - For it could answer no good end - Though indispos'd to be a friend, - That kind of discontent to show - Which might convert him to a foe. - But ere we altogether leave - Sir _Jeffery's_ grateful friends to grieve, - We mean all those which to the sight - Were clearly writ, in black and white, - Within the bound'ries of the will, - Nor left to _blundering Codicil_, - It may not be amiss to draw - The picture of the _Heir at Law_. - - When on the 'Change he took his rounds, - He walk'd an hundred thousand pounds: - Not less was his acknowledg'd worth - When ev'ry morn he sallied forth, - With expectation grave, to meet - Fortune's fresh smiles in Lombard-Street. - Upright in all his worldly dealing:-- - But that high sense of noble feeling, - The humane impulse to relieve, - To wipe the eye of those who grieve, - The wish of goodness to impart - The bounties of a gen'rous heart, - These were not his; and though the scroll - That may the charities enroll - Of gilded pride, upon the wall - In some conspicuous hospital, - Might his known name and title bear, - 'Twas vanity that plac'd it there. - But though, perhaps, a plum or more - Was added to his former store, - If, by sad chance, with haggard mien, - An humble suppliant should be seen, - A mother sick, a father dead, - And children, left forlorn, unfed, - His hand ne'er ventur'd on his purse - To give relief, and, what was worse, - He would alarm the wretches' fears - With beadles fierce and overseers, - Or talk of laws for vagrants made, - Which call the scourge-man to their aid. - Thus nought was look'd for at his hands, - But justice strict to just demands: - No smiling, generous overflow - Of fair reward would he bestow; - No bounty did his thoughts prepare - For duty's overweening care; - While service, by affection wrought, - Was, in his reck'ning, set at nought. - - QUAE GENUS gave in his account; - Its justness own'd, the full amount - Was duly paid, but I'll forgive - The mind refusing to believe, - That, when the rich man should discover - That he had paid some nine-pence over, - He did, without a look of shame, - That pittance as a balance claim: - It may appear full passing strange, - But 'tis a fact, he took the change, - And did the jingling half-pence greet, - Like fish-women in open street. - E'en the worn wardrobe of the Knight, - Which is esteem'd the valet's right, - The gen'ral heir-loom of his place, - Was seiz'd by the curmudgeon base, - And borne away, a paltry gain, - To his own Store in Mincing-Lane: - But when, among the other dues, - Were order'd off the _Gouty Shoes_, - QUAE GENUS, with contempt inflam'd, - Thus, in a hearty tone, exclaim'd, - "Away, to the mean merchant bear 'em! - Heaven grant he may be forc'd to wear 'em!" - --Thus things went on;--then came the time, - (The truth e'en shames my humble rhyme) - When the Executor and Heir, - For one did both the titles share, - Appear'd to pay, in legal guise, - The wages and the legacies. - QUAE GENUS, who had lately been - A favour'd actor in the scene, - Could not have guess'd at such disaster - From such a friend and such a master: - And though he strove, he scarce could hide - The feelings of an honest pride, - When, from Sir _Jeffery's_ error, he - And those who wore a livery, - Nay even house and kitchen-maid - Were in the same proportions paid,-- - When his allotted mourning bore - The same coarse stuff the coachman wore. - But how his heart began to beat - When he was charg'd for the _receipt_! - - All his distinction now was lost, - And he who long had rul'd the roast, - Had, since Sir _Jeffery_ went to rest, - Been of his station dispossest; - Nay, not a common smile remain'd - Of all the favour he had gain'd, - While beggarly mistrust took place, - Which he must feel as foul disgrace: - For ev'ry key had been demanded; - One instant made him empty-handed - Dismiss'd from his late envied station - Without a nod of approbation, - He was preparing to depart - With downcast look and heavy heart; - Nor could e'en Molly's tender smile - Of one sad thought that heart beguile - - -HIS FAREWELL SPEECH. - - "And now, I say, adieu, my friends, - For here our fellow-service ends. - You need not put on sorrowing faces; - You will soon meet with ready places; - 'Tis me whose disappointing care, - Of cheering prospects, bids despair. - --You all, I'm sure can well believe, - I have most ample cause to grieve - That cruel Fortune thus should frown, - When I thought her fond smiles my own. - --Sir _Jeffery_ now is laid in dust, - But when alive, how good, how just! - And all who knew him well must know - He never wish'd to use me so. - Had he believ'd his end so nigh, - I should have had the legacy, - Which would have made me full amends - For loss of fortune, loss of friends. - Another day had he surviv'd, - To the next morning had he liv'd, - It might, perhaps, have been my fate - To know an independent state, - As he had told me, o'er and o'er, - I ne'er should go to service more. - When I did on his wants attend - He spoke as a familiar friend: - How often too we might be seen - Chatting within the Indian screen! - Whenever we were left alone, - We seem'd not two, but were as one. - I knew each tit-bit that he lov'd; - He always what I gave approv'd; - And as I stood beside his chair, - Attending with respectful air, - He oft would bid me sit and dine, - Fill up his glass and pour out mine. - --When thumb and finger he applied - To the gold snuff box by his side, - I shar'd the pinch, and he ne'er ceas'd - To say, 'God bless you,' when I sneez'd; - Nay, when my snortings I repeated, - He thus my awkward flurry greeted, - 'My friend, familiarize your nose - To this exhilarating dose, - For sure as we together dine - This box, QUAE GENUS, shall be thine!' - But that kind friend, alas! is dead, - And box and snuff and all are fled. - Nay, had I now a hope on earth, - And could engage in trifling mirth, - I here might my complainings close - With disappointments of my nose. - --His common purse I could command, - 'Twas daily open to my hand; - You all well know I paid his bills, - And when, to ease his various ills, - Sir _Midriff_ came, I us'd to squeeze - Into his palm the welcome fees. - Whene'er I showed my weekly book, - He never gave the page a look; - And when I urg'd it the good Knight - Would smile and say, 'I'm sure 'tis right.' - Nay, I can say, in ev'ry sense, - I ne'er abus'd his confidence: - No, no, I never did purloin - An atom of the lowest coin, - And what I have to Heaven is known, - In honest truth, to be my own, - Then wonder not, I feel it hard, - To be depriv'd of my reward, - And, by such a chance, be hurl'd - Again to struggle with the world. - Reasons, besides, I must not tell, - Why the Knight treated me so well; - But I play'd no delusive part, - And they did honour to his heart: - Of that heart, had he left a share, } - As well as fortune to his heir, } - I need not now indulge despair." } - - "Mr. QUAE GENUS, never fear," - The Coachman said, "your spirits cheer! - Dame Fortune has look'd down 'tis plain, - But the jade may look up again: - 'Tis true that dev'lish oyster-pie - Fell souse upon the legacy: - E'en so it was, I cannot doubt it, - But I would think no more about it. - You so well know your P's and Q's, - That you have but to pick and chuse. - I speak the truth, there are but few - Mr. QUAE GENUS, such as you: - And though the merchant will not give - The bounty which you should receive, - What though he would not spare a farthing - To save a soul of us from starving, - Good names he'll give us, as he ought, - For they we know will cost him nought; - 'Twere better therefore to be civil, - And hold the candle to the Devil, - For we as servants cannot stir - Without a show of character. - --As you perceive, I'm not a chick, - And know enough to make one sick: - Nay, somewhat my experience lends, - To guess at this world's odds and ends. - I've been in many curious places; - I've serv'd my Lords,--and serv'd their Graces; - And, which gives work of more ado, - I've even serv'd my Ladies too: - I knew to shut or ope my eyes, - To see strange things, nor look surprise. - Sometimes good-luck has given a lift, - And sometimes, I've been turn'd adrift; - But should I live to Judgement-day, - No, I will never fail to say, - That I ne'er so much comfort knew, - As since this house was rul'd by you. - --Now, when you get an upper place, - Which soon, I'm sure, must be the case, - If then your favour will contrive, - I should my Lord or Lady drive, - For I the reins can handle true - Of pairs, of fours, and sixes too, - I promise, nay, my word engages - To give you poundage from my wages. - --I know you're gen'rous, kind and free, - But here you will accord with me, - That interest has a powerful weight - Both with the little and the great: - You see it well by what is past, - Since your fine plan is overcast. - I do not wish to give offence, - But interest is common sense, - And he who does not look to that, - Mr. QUAE GENUS, is a FLAT." - - The blunt, rough _Coachman_, said no more: - When _Molly's_ fine black eyes ran o'er: - The _Cook_ look'd grave, and _Betty_ sigh'd, } - The _Kitchen-maid_ sat still and cried, } - While _Thomas_ not a word replied.-- } - QUAE GENUS, not to be remiss, - Gave to each maid a friendly kiss, - And when he whisper'd his adieu - To charming _Molly_, he gave two: - Perhaps, if they were counted o'er, - Her sweet lips might acknowledge more: - Then told her softly not to fear, - And kindly whisper'd in her ear, - "What e'er my lot, I will be true - To fond affection and to you." - - Our gloomy Hero now departed, - And left the mansion heavy-hearted, - Where in such comfort he had liv'd, - Nor, till dismiss'd it, ever griev'd, - And, with a tardy step, retir'd - To a snug lodging he had hir'd. - - Thus once again by Fortune thrown - On the wide world, and all alone, - Without th' appearance of a friend - On whose kind aid he could depend, - QUAE GENUS pac'd his lonely floor - All to and fro and o'er and o'er, - Thinking what efforts might be made, - What stroke be struck, what game be play'd, - To place him in some active state - That promis'd to be fortunate. - One consolation he possest, } - Which, though it did not charm to rest } - The rising troubles of his breast, } - Yet still, whatever might confound him, - Gave him full time to look around him, - And, on whatever project bent, - To weigh its views, and wait th' event. - For, though his purse might not run o'er, - He had a snug, sufficient store, - To keep his anxious spirits free - From any dread of penury, - And guard him amidst toils and strife, - Against the insidious smiles of life, - That do so often tempt the mind - To cast discretion far behind, - Or make it fearful hazards try, - Impell'd by dire necessity. - --He had not yet unripp'd his coat, } - In which conceal'd lay every note } - Which he from _Gripe-all's_ clutches got: } - A hoard on which he might depend, - When he look'd round nor saw a friend. - Besides, he had no trifle gain'd, - While with Sir _Jeffery_ he remain'd; - For though, as has been lately said, - He never play'd a trick of trade; - Nor had he even thought it right - To take a valet's perquisite, - Nor e'er allow'd his hands to seize - The household steward's common fees, - But of the strict and rigid law - Of duty ever stood in awe. - --All this the Knight full well believ'd, - Nor could he think himself deceiv'd, - When once he answer'd to a friend, - Who did the young man's cares commend. - "That same QUAE GENUS is so just - In all committed to his trust, - To his right notions such a slave, - He would not with a razor shave, - Nor use a strap, nor ply a hone, - He had not purchas'd as his own."-- - Thus, as most worthy of his charge, - Sir _Jeffery's_ annual pay was large, - And when th' allotted quarter came, - Something was added to his claim, - Which with such gen'rous grace was given, - It seem'd like Manna sent from Heaven!-- - Besides, his wages, being high, - Encreas'd the gen'ral legacy, - Which he with all the household shar'd; - The last, and now his sole reward. - - Thus so far independence brought - A'gleam of comfort on his thought; - He was not left on ruin's brink - To sit and sigh, and swear and think. - _Two_ points alone he had in view, - He thought it hard they were but _two_; - Nor could he call his fortune kind - When they alone employ'd his mind: - These were the DOCTORS, won by fees - To make most bounteous promises; - And though these GALENS might deny 'em, - He was at least resolv'd to try 'em; - And, if Sir MIDRIFF should decline, - He would apply to ANODYNE. - --The _former_, if he pleas'd, could well, - And with strict truth, his value tell: - For none with such experience knew - That he was active, honest, true, - And to his patient, well or ill, - Did ev'ry duteous care fulfil. - Nay, that it was the Knight's good pleasure - To speak of him as of a treasure. - - Now, on his serious purpose bent, - He to Sir MIDRIFF BOLUS went; - But then, alas! as we shall see, - His face did not forebode a fee: - Nor did the great man smiling meet him, - Or with a tone familiar greet him, - As his keen humour us'd to do - When _golden sovereigns_ were in view: - Nor did he take him by the hand, - As when it did the coin command. - He now put on a curious leer, - That said, "I pray, what brought _you_ here?" - "I'm come to hope you'll condescend - To prove yourself my promis'd friend," - QUAE GENUS said, "and with this view, - I now present myself to you. - You told me, 'when your master's gone, - Look on my friendship as your own.' - He's gone, alas, I too well know, - To me a most affecting blow: - But still, I trust, I may engage - Your kind, protecting patronage, - And, among those of rank and wealth - Who make you guardian of their health, - Your favour may smile on my fate, - And I renew an household state, - Like that which crown'd my better days, - When I enjoy'd your frequent praise." - - The Doctor now his suppliant ey'd, - And thus in hasty tone replied. - "Indeed I've something else to do - Than thus to be employ'd by you: - I'm in great haste and must away, - My patients wait, I cannot stay, - To hear you, your fine story tell:-- - So, honest friend, I wish you well."-- - --Thus when Sir _Jeffery's_ fees were o'er - He thought not of QUAE GENUS more. - - Now, as he pac'd along the street, } - Thus did he to himself repeat, } - "Is this the fortune I must meet? } - Is this the merited reward - Which they receive who strive to guard - Their hearts against the tempting guise - Of int'rest and its sorceries; - And say to Virtue, 'Maid divine! - Behold thy slave, I'm wholly thine!' - --It is not that I now repent, - Or harbour selfish discontent, - That I should hesitate to seize - The golden opportunities - Which were presented to my power, - Not ev'ry day, but ev'ry hour, - While with Sir _Jeffery Gourmand_ I - Enjoy'd the means those arts to ply, - Which, by the curious eye unseen, - Might with such gains have pregnant been: - No, no, thank Heaven, I'm not embued - With that worst vice, Ingratitude; - An odious vice that is of kin - To every other mortal sin. - I felt his kindness, and where'er - My lot may be of pain and care, - Those kind reflections I possess - To make me smile in my distress, - That I ne'er for a moment swerv'd - From the best duties he deserv'd; - Nay, which he, to his closing days, - So often honour'd with his praise,-- - And should it be my lot to find - Another master good and kind, - Whose gen'rous heart would condescend - To treat QUAE GENUS as a friend, - This I may truly boast, that he } - Should find an humble friend in me, } - Whose soul is faithful loyalty! } - I would the path of truth pursue - As I have long been us'd to do; - And where, howe'er oblig'd to bend - To pressing views, my wishes tend. - But, in this world of chance and change, - As it appears, I'm doom'd to range, - And I may be oblig'd to treat it - As it will be my lot to meet it. - I will not rob nor will I steal, } - But from myself I'll not conceal } - The secret purpose which I feel. } - Commandments I will never break, - But when fair interest is at stake, - I'll follow in my future views - The conduct which the world pursues; - And when that principle I own, - The world will have no right to frown. - Thus whatsoe'er may be my station, - Where chance may fix my next vocation - I'll keep discretion in my view, - As prudent folk profess to do. - --But ere throughout the town at large - I look for some inviting charge, - Though with one Doctor I have fail'd, - Another now shall be assail'd; - Though brilliant prospects may not shine, - Yet I'll e'en go to ANODYNE. - The QUACK may prove a better friend - Than e'er Sir MIDRIFF might intend; - At all events, howe'er perverse, - 'Tis plain he cannot prove a worse; - Howe'er that be, I can but try."-- - --Thus clos'd his thoughts' soliloquy. - - QUAE GENUS now pass'd up the Court - The sickly patient's still resort, - Where, in a corner quite retired, - The mansion stood which he desired, - Whose door, bedight with darksome green - And mouldings edg'd with black, is seen; - While letter'd gold appears to shine - And tell the name of ANODYNE. - He touch'd the well-known tinkling-bell - That did some sickly presence tell, - When the door op'd with rapid force, - And patients glided in of course. - There was ne'er heard a knocker's sound, - To rouse the idle neighbours round, - Or to the windows call the eye - Of peeping curiosity. - - The signal was not given twice; - QUAE GENUS enter'd in a trice - And sought the solemn Doctor's nook, - Where he sat with a folio book, - Some ancient Galen's learned creed, - Which 'tis not certain he could read: - Alone, o'er this he gravely doz'd, - But when the sick arriv'd, he clos'd - The cumbrous volume, and gave ear - The tale of some distress to hear. - To JOHNNY this was no new scene, - For here he had full often been, - But as he _fee-less_ ne'er before - Had hasten'd through the well-known door, - He felt some doubts within his mind - What sort of welcome he should find. - Sir MIDRIFF'S conduct it appears, - Had chang'd his promis'd hopes to fears; - And when he felt such rude disdain - From one who rul'd in Warwick-Lane, - Who boasted of superior knowledge - To all the learned of the College; - Who from his frequent promise swerv'd, - To one who his kind smiles deserv'd; - Yet ev'ry day, and ev'ry hour, - Possess'd the patronising power, - With mere commending words to gain - The boon QUAE GENUS ask'd in vain;-- - What good then could his hopes supply - From the low pride of quackery, - From one who rested his pretence - On nostrums and on impudence. - But he had felt that in Life's dance, - We often owe to strokes of chance, - That unexpected good prevail'd - Where Reason's better hopes have fail'd. - Such thoughts the purpose did incline - To make his bows to ANODYNE. - The Doctor with a friendly air, } - 'Rose from his dictatorial chair, } - And pleasure told to see him there: } - When thus QUAE GENUS in reply, - Began the following Colloquy. - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "Sir _Jeffery_, as, I trust, you know, - Is gone, Sir, where we all must go; - In spite of all your healing power, - Has reach'd, at length, his final hour, - Though had he trusted all to you, } - And to Sir MIDRIFF bade adieu, } - Which he was half inclin'd to do, } - Perhaps, my present visit here - Would not so penniless appear; - For I am come, as you must see, - Without the pass-port of a fee. - It is self-interest, I fear, - Yes, I must own it, brings me here. - Since his departure I am hurl'd - To push my fortune in the world, - And may I now with courage say, - You will assist me on my way? - --Such is, alas! my alter'd case, - I'm seeking for another place, - Though e'en my visionary mind - Can never hope again to find - Such a so envied household post, - As that which I have lately lost. - With fortune I shall ne'er contend - But smile on that which she may send; - And of whatever state possest, - Be satisfied and act my best. - Now, as I've reason well to know, - Though 'tis not you have told me so, - That persons of superior worth, - The wealthy and of noble birth; - Who, tir'd of physic's settled rules, - As taught in colleges and schools, - Have sought your bold and fearless skill, - The potent drafts and secret pill, - Which your _Acumen_ can impart, - Beyond the reach of drudging art, - And I have heard will cure the pain, - When boasting science tries in vain: - Nor is this all, the tonish fair - Attend to seek your healing care. - When here I've for Sir _Jeffery_ been, } - Dames of high figure I have seen, } - Lolling behind your folding screen } - With all their gay caricatures - The lively eye's attractive lures. - Broad bonnets all beflower'd o'er, - Are often passing through your door, - And I have glanc'd at many a shawl - That glided through your gloomy hall. - When such grand visitors as these - Apply to you to give them ease; - And when your skill relieves their pain, - That is the time their grace to gain, - And then, good Doctor, you might see - If you could gain a grace for me; - While to some patient you commend - The service of your humble friend: - Nor will he fail returns to make, - Which you may condescend to take; - And grateful memory will repay - Your kindness to his dying day." - - The modest suit was not denied, - And thus, th' assenting Don replied. - - "QUAE GENUS, my regards are thine, - As sure as my name's ANODYNE. - --If worth lay in a flatt'ring tongue, - You would not want a service long; - For if you do with caution use it, - Where is the ear that will refuse it? - 'Tis but the art how to apply - The well-conceal'd artillery, - And, more or less, the well-told tale - Will o'er the pliant mind prevail. - Your int'rest, friend, I'll not neglect, - Perhaps do more than you expect; - Nay, I e'en may your mind surprise, - When I mark how that int'rest lies;-- - But 'tis not where your hopes may look, - 'Tis not that page in fortune's book. - --The higher folk who come to me - Are all involv'd in secrecy: - Those who can't walk employ a hack, - When they employ the humble quack: - Hence, no fine carriages resort - About the purlieus of my court, - For the rich owners, with their wealth, - Blush to pass this bye-way to health. - Such is proud fashion's powerful rule - O'er many a purse-proud, titled fool: - They tell me all their sickness claims, - But seem afraid to tell their names. - --There's an old man I sometimes see, - And faith he brings a handsome fee, - Whose hackney always drops his fare - Just by, in the adjoining Square: - Where, when we've clos'd our consultation, - He hobbles to regain his station. - In a loose coat of common wear, - This person chuses to appear; - With his round hat and dingy caxon, - He calls himself a Mr. Jackson; - Though still his manners and his words - Are such as highest rank affords: - And, sure as I e'er gave a puke, - I know the man to be a duke.-- - But I, of course, the secret keep, - And let his splendid titles sleep. - --I have two ladies now in hand, - Whose whims and fancies I command: - They tell of humours on the skin, - But then they only shew their chin; - No other part they let me see, - Such is their bashful fantasy. - They seem to think I doubt their graces, - As veils o'erspread their pimpled faces, - So that where'er they chuse to show 'em, - I do not think that I should know 'em. - Yet by their chat they have betray'd, - That one's a wife, and one's a maid: - Nor from the names can they refrain - Of _Lady Bell_ and _Lady Jane_. - They never fail in their appointments, - And are fast curing by my ointments: - Thus, from their praise, I hope to claim - An added honour to my name. - Nor are these all; for many more } - Of wealth and rank pass through my door; } - Though still as I have said before, } - They to such aid as mine apply - All mask'd in fearful secrecy. - These whims I have explain'd, to prove - I cannot in this quarter move; - And where I could your worth commend - It would degrade you to attend. - But I shall now unfold to view, - Another chance I have for you: - And let your patience ope its ear - To all you are about to hear. - - "'Tis not to breathe the tonish air } - Of Portland-Place, or Grosv'nor-Square, } - Or stand behind her Grace's chair: } - 'Tis not to serve the titled beaux, - And flourish in your master' clothes: - 'Tis not, as you are wont, to grace - Some peopled household's highest place, - Though well-accomplish'd as you are, - 'Tis chance alone can place you there: - For, through your days, you may not boast - A master such as you have lost; - Nay, your precarious life may end - Before a master proves a friend; - And, after all, old age may come - Without an alms-house for a home. - Think, think in what a woeful plight - The man must live who's pocket's light! - Are not his hours by want depress'd? - Penurious care corrodes his breast; - Without respect, or love, or friends, - His solitary day descends. - O be not led away by pride, - But use the means that may provide - For future wants, when evils press, - And life is pregnant with distress! - Hear me, my friend, nor let surprise - With staring looks burst from your eyes, - When I, in language frank and free,-- - Tell you to come and _live with me_. - - "Think not I want you for a hack, - A serving menial to a quack; - If to my interests you attend, } - You will be treated as a friend. } - On this be sure you may depend, } - That you will find a better station, - In profit as in inclination, - Than were you hired to be solus - Behind the chair of Doctor BOLUS. - --Within a week, perhaps a day, - You'll see the part you have to play. - The man I had, whom you have seen, - Might still beneath this roof have been, - But he by coughing was worn down - To a poor gasping skeleton, - And 'twere not fit I should endure - One in my house I could not cure - He would not prove a tempting sign - To spread the fame of ANODYNE: - But in the time he here remain'd, - He had a little fortune gain'd. - --Your knowledge, which I well can trace, } - Is far above a servant's place, } - And would a higher station grace. } - The pleasing manners you possess, - Your winning speech and nice address, - Might call to your ambitious view, - An higher state than you pursue; - Though still your savings you might waste, - Before you're suited to your taste. - --Such aid as your's I long have wanted, - And if my warm proposal's granted, - You must at once grow wond'rous dull, - Or soon your pocket will be full: - Here, in one year, you will get more - Than with your noble lords in four. - Nay, on the honour of a friend, - Who no deception can intend, - You'll greatly err, if you decline - Such an official place as mine. - --I'll teach you how to cup and bleed; - These operations you will need; - The pulses' movements you shall know, - When they are either high or low: - While other symptoms of disease - I can communicate with ease. - All this, if I the truth discern, - Your ready mind will quickly learn. - Besides 'tis right to let you know - You'll have no nauseous work to do; - For the old woman spreads the blisters, - Rolls up the pills and stirs the clysters. - While 'tis my hand alone composes - The patients' necessary doses, - And your chief care is to dispense - These med'cines with your eloquence. - --But I have sick folk to attend, - So while away an hour, my friend: - And as I trust you'll stay and dine, - We'll close our bargain o'er our wine." - - - - -CANTO VI - - - It often happens as we range - Through life, an unexpected change, - With sudden stroke may pain destroy - And turn our thoughts from grief to joy: - Or as some shock cuts off relief - May turn a flow of joy to grief. - Thus our days' varying system bears - Th' alternate play of hopes and fears: - Nay, when more pleasant views provoke, - May turn our gravity to joke. - Besides, as in the Drama's art, - The scene displays the varying part, - So apt are we to play the fool, - We serve for our own ridicule: - And when sly Fortune's pleas'd to vary - Our progress with some strange vagary, - We oft become such merry elves - To burst with laughter at ourselves. - - Thus as QUAE GENUS pac'd the room, - Reflecting on the time to come, - And all the heap of promis'd good - By ANODYNE to be bestow'd; - That he was to be cramm'd with wealth, - And turn all sickness into health; - His fancy, tickled at the thought, - He set each serious wish at nought, - And laugh'd till his sides seem'd to crack, - To think he should become a Quack. - But when he had indulg'd the joke - Which this idea might provoke, - He thought more gravely of the case - And vow'd to take the proffer'd place: - At all events, he could but try - This self-same scheme of quackery: - At least some knowledge he should gain, - And knowledge never comes in vain. - Indeed, what harm, if he succeed in - The arts of cupping and of bleeding? - The lancet's power to command - Might be of use in any hand, - And e'en in any hand might save - A forlorn suff'rer from the grave; - While he might well instructed be - In principles of Pharmacy. - He also felt that application - Might fit him for a better station; - That in some distant country town, - He might a _Galen's_ title own: - Where, if his fortune did not vary, - He might strut an Apothecary. - - Thus between gravity and smile - Conceit play'd its full part the while, - Though not without a view to gains - Which might reward his present pains: - Indeed he knew the means that made 'em, - For he had for Sir _Jeffery_ paid 'em: - As while for potion, pill and plaister - A golden fee awaits the master; - He found it was a useful plan, - With lesser coin, to fee the man, - Who had the means to lift the latch - That did the secret wish dispatch; - And could th' impatience set to rest - Of the more eager, grumbling guest. - --Thus, with lively hope high-season'd, - QUAE GENUS walk'd about and reason'd; - And, in his Pericranium fast, - This grave opinion fix'd at last: - If not in honour, yet in purse, - _He might go further and fare worse_,-- - But if no other good were done, - There might be sure a world of fun. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS WITH A QUACK DOCTOR.] - - Patients that morning had been plenty, - Not less it seems than five-and-twenty; - This the old woman smiling stated, - And told him that the dinner waited. - The table shew'd a plenteous treat } - Of fish and fowl and sav'ry meat, } - But poor QUAE GENUS scarce could eat. } - For, though prepar'd for any diet, - His hunger soon repos'd in quiet. - The Doctor fed, but talk'd the while, - Of gastric juice and flowing bile; - Of kidneys and o'ergrowing liver, - As of sore eyes now cur'd for ever; - What his fam'd _Nostrum_ had perform'd, - And how it had the bowels storm'd - Of guttling Gourmand with such force, - That it a passage made of course, - Which three great Doctors tried in vain, - With all their boasted skill to gain. - Besides our hero did not know - How cookery went on below, - And he might think, poor dainty sinner, - That the same hands had dress'd the dinner, - Which were entrusted with the care - Each daily med'cine to prepare; - To melt the salves and spread anon - The cerates and diacolon; - That did the drugs or grind or pound, - And dress the sore leg's running wound: - But so it was, a sick sensation - Check'd all his powers of mastication, - And caus'd his stomach to resent - The very taste of nutriment: - Nay his sad appetite approv'd - When all the dishes were remov'd. - --They therefore soon had ceas'd to dine } - And o'er the second pint of wine } - The bargain clos'd with ANODYNE. } - What that was, it is fit to know, - And the verse now will briefly show. - - QUAE GENUS had made up his mind - Not to his interest to be blind; - But in the game that path pursue - Which prudence says we ought to do, - Nor to let scruples overpower - Th' advantage of the passing hour, - And yet that artifice restrain - Whose daily efforts are for gain: - In short to take the middle plan, } - Which, as the world is us'd to scan, } - Marks what is call'd an _Honest Man_. } - He might not hesitate complying - With a small spice of useful lying - That idle questions might disarm, - Do some slight good, but never harm, - Afford a sentimental grace - To conversation's common place, - And give a customary aid - To all the retail slang of trade. - With mind thus settled and prepar'd - He ANODYNE'S first lecture heard. - And as it surely was the best, - We shall pass over all the rest. - - -ANODYNE. - - "This the first rule that I shall trace:-- - You must command a solemn face; - Nor suffer objects to beguile - Your features to familiar smile. - Here, I must own, you oft may see - What may court transient pleasantry; - For e'en 'midst misery and pain, - You'll find such whims and fancies reign, - Hear patients cough and grunt and sneeze - In such uncouth, discordant keys, - That without care, I should not wonder - Your muscles into laugh might blunder. - You have a speech runs off at score, - As rapid as a chaise and four, - But with my sickly folk be slow - As a stage-waggon's us'd to go; - And pray remember to apply - Your words with due solemnity. - I know you well can suit your tongue - To any age, to old or young; - Nor will the task your care perplex - In the complaints of either sex; - And bear in mind, whate'er you see, - To veil your thoughts with modesty: - But hear the great and leading rule - Of this my Esculapian school. - - "I care not by what name you call - This spacious parlour, room or hall: - But here my daily patients range - Whose order you must never change: - Were I to take them one by one, - By Heaven I should ne'er have done; - And, therefore, govern'd by their feather - I thus assort my birds together. - Here, on the right, are duly seated - Those who for gouty freaks are treated, - Then comes the symptomatic fever, - And next the bilious and their liver: - Then follow others in their turn, - The chills which shake, the heats that burn; - The stomachs which will ne'er digest - The food their feeders love the best; - The wheesers too are not far off, - All those who hem and spit and cough, - With such, not of the happiest kind, - Whose bowels threat to crack with wind - The Hypochondres here repose - Impatient for the cordial dose, - And children on the carpet brawl, - Till my spice biscuits calm the squall. - - "I first review th' assembled tribe - Then walk off stately and prescribe, - When I consign to your quick sense - Th' appropriate med'cines to dispense, - To all the classes in your view, } - With gentle tone and caution due: } - See then how much depends on you. } - Each case that asks superior art - I send into a room apart; - And _there_ I never feel alarm; - I play no tricks and do no harm. - When I a desp'rate illness see, - For patients must not die with me, - I recommend them to repair - To goat's-milk and the country air; - And when such counsel they receive - They do not fail to take their leave, - Full of my candour and disdain - Of any little paltry gain. - Deep cuts, sore legs and gummy eyes, - With all the common casualties, - I with my healing dame bestow, - In her snug, secret cell below: - Indeed I've sometimes star'd to see - The wonders of her surgery. - --'Tis true 'mong doctors I'm not famous, - But still I'm not an _Ignoramus_; - For I can play a skillfull part - In elements of chymic art; - I give the drafts a varying hue, - To-day so red, to-morrow blue, - And touch them with a diff'rent savour, - To give a worse or better flavour, - As it may suit, then change their name, } - Though they may be the very same, } - Both in their object and their aim. } - - "It is with me a leading fashion - To play thus with imagination; - A symptom that doth never cease, - Or more or less in all disease. - There are sly shifts in ev'ry trade, - Which money calls in to its aid: - But here I'd have it understood, - If when my practice does no good, - My conscience never has the qualm, - That I do any real harm. - Nor are my various cures unknown - As placards tell of my renown! - My nostrums oft my hopes fulfil, - Nor do I know they ever kill. - Those cases which I've cause to doubt, - And cannot find their symptoms out, - I never fail to leave to nature, - Who is a wonder-working creature: - And my chief cures which make a stir,-- - I e'en must own I owe to her.-- - --Such the great object of my care.-- - Fear not, you will th' advantage share. - But know, when all my sick are here, - You as _Inferior_ must appear; - But business o'er and they are gone, - Then good QUAE GENUS, we are one!" - - At length the compact was agreed, } - And all things promis'd to succeed: } - Our Hero soon could cup and bleed; } - And, with a kind, officious grace, - The med'cine gave in time and place; - Nay, as occasion might afford, - Bitters improve with sweet'ning word: - He had acquir'd the art to please - With welcome flatt'ries such as these. - - "_How stout your legs appear to-day! - I trust you have walk'd all the way! - And ere that our brief work is done, - We shall have taught you how to run!_" - - "_O madam! how I must rejoice, - That you have lost your husky voice; - Soon I doubt not that I shall find - Your tones are of the sweetest kind_!" - - "_And that fine face I griev'd to view - When cloth'd in such a pallid hue; - But I have seen, this passing week, - The colour coming on your cheek. - And if some ill does not oppose, - We soon shall see the tender rose: - And hope's a friend that will supply - The prospect which, I trust, is nigh_." - - Now sometimes he would give a scope - To his propensity to joke. - For 'mid this pale-fac'd, grumbling mess - 'Twere well to stir some chearfulness: - For if a parson chose to squeeze - A lady on her crummy knees, - (For here a little play and prate - Might cheer a sickly _tete-a-tete_) - His whisper might perchance declare, - "Doctor, her pulses are not there." - --At all events, things went on well, - As the pleas'd verse may freely tell; - And the young Doctor ne'er complain'd - Of what he by his office gain'd. - - But here we now shall change our road - And slip into an _Episode_; - It is a common way we know, - In which much better poets go: - Though pride will not suggest that we - Can be accus'd of _poetry_; - Yet we must own that, in our time, - We have stirr'd up some reams of _Rhyme_. - Howe'er that be, we now must come - To steer our Hero's walks from home. - - Among the few who sought the aid - Of ANODYNE'S more secret trade, - Was one who sent a written case - Which did his various symptoms trace: - Thus, when the Quack prepar'd the dose, - QUAE GENUS took it snug and close: - He only knew the cordial sent, - To whom address'd, and where it went: - Besides it was his daily task - Questions of import grave to ask. - How was his pulse? How had he slept? - If tremors o'er the system crept? - With such enquiries as our verse - Might feel it awkward to rehearse. - - Of that no more, the patient's name - Was _Woodlands_, known in rural fame: - Through early years, a sportsman he, - The flower of hunting chivalry; - Was rich, and as he well was able, - Saw jovial sportsmen round his table, - Drank hard and lov'd the evening glee, - With those who drank as hard as he. - But gout, with other ills came on, - And jovial life was pass'd and gone: - Health's active season now was o'er, - When he could hunt and feast no more. - He sold his hounds and took a wife, - To soothe the latter years of life; - But they were few, as we shall see, - In spite of care and Quackery. - She was a _Belle_ of rural fame, - Who gave her troth and bore his name: - Whate'er had been her hopes and views - When she did an old husband chuse, - The knowledge we do not profess, - But leave the gen'rous mind to guess. - At all events, her outward mien, - As it should be had always been, - Nor had a jealous eye suspected - Her duty had been e'er neglected. - But as infirm he now was grown, } - At her desire, he came to town } - To seek Physicians of renown. } - He first had one, he then had two, - But their prescriptions did not do; - When still her care prevail'd, and she - Another sought, so he had three; - And no more good seem'd to be done, - Than if he had been seen by none. - --Thus matters stood, nay he grew worse - When an old busy, chattering nurse, - Talk'd of the cures, almost divine, - Of our friend Doctor ANODYNE. - The drowning catch at any reed, - And all is help in desp'rate need: - Thus the rich man propos'd to try - The boasted aid of Quackery, - And what he wish'd, Amelia said, - With anxious smile, must be obey'd. - --Thus then it is, as we have seen, - QUAE GENUS has the attendant been; - But now we are about to see - What a snug _Proteus_ he can be. - - The Lady, to his great surprise, - Oft view'd him with enquiring eyes, - And did a kind attention show - Which he thought queer she should bestow, - But he soon found the matter out; - Madam herself clear'd up the doubt, - As, in her _Boudoir's_ still recess, - She did her quiet thoughts express. - In a soft, pleasant tone she spoke, - As half in earnest half in joke; - But as she thus her mind unveil'd, - It might be seen what thought prevail'd. - "There's something in your air and face } - That tells me you will not disgrace } - The trust which I now wish to place } - In your obedience to my will; - And if you do that trust fulfil, - If you act up to my intent, - QUAE GENUS never shall repent." - --His fingers on his lips he press'd, - He clos'd his hands upon his breast; - With most submissive air he bow'd, - And secresy he swore and vow'd; - When Madam _Woodlands_ thus proceeded: - (I scarce need add that she succeeded.) - "You do a Doctor's business ply; - Now do not stare,--for so do I: - There is a pale-fac'd patient too - Whose certain cure I have in view, - And I've a med'cine that will prove - Specific,--as he's sick of love; - It will, in time, set all at ease, - And cure the pangs of his disease; - For no prescription can be better - Than that contain'd within this letter, - Which you, my friend, must understand - To give into the patient's hand. - Believe me too, when you are told, - You'll find it worth its weight in gold. - --There is," she said, "a smile I see - Now stealing on your gravity; - But know, QUAE GENUS I do nought - That is with base dishonour fraught; - My whims, though secret, common-sense - Will clothe in garb of innocence."-- - In short, but not without a fee, - He took the balmy recipe, - And ev'ry time he bore a letter - The patient's case was growing better. - - Thus fortune kindly did bestow - Two strings to our keen Hero's bow; - And to his wishes, in good troth, - He reap'd no common gains from both. - --But here, another lucky hour - Did on his hopes new promise pour: - For Madam _Woodlands_ more than hinted, - If, in his present projects stinted, - He should no longer wish to shine - With Quackery and ANODYNE, - He might, by her all-fav'ring grace, - Attain her household's highest place. - He saw, and not by way of whim, - This was the very place for him; - But still he felt he could not quit, - As in a momentary fit, - That state he to the Doctor ow'd, - And which such benefit bestow'd; - Then, without proper warning, leave him, - Or with some scurvy tale deceive him, - He saw in any point of view - That honour prompts, it would not do. - Thus, in a state of constant doubt, - He scarce knew what he was about, - And to the daily patients gave - Their med'cines just as chance would have. - To all diseases waiting there } - He did not e'en appear to care } - What was the complaint or where, } - If it was fever or the gout; - But left each dose to find it out. - --Thus strange indeed, but it appear'd - The healing shop would soon be clear'd, - The patients calmly pass'd away; } - Nay, some of them were rather gay, } - And fees forsook th' impoverish'd day. } - When this change our QUAE GENUS saw, - He thought awhile and felt an awe, - When it struck sudden on his sense, - That his so wicked negligence, - Had caus'd, perhaps, the final doom - Of many an inmate of the room; - But, on a fearful search, he found, - Not one of them was under ground, - Nay, that by giving med'cines wrong, - He did their precious lives prolong; - At least no harm they had endur'd, - For by his blund'ring they were cur'd. - Shrewd ANODYNE, of course, suspected - That his prime bus'ness was neglected; - Indeed he clearly understood - QUAE GENUS did more harm than good, - And therefore, without much delay, - Hinted in a good-humour'd way, - "You're tir'd, my friend, as it appears, - (Of which I've sometime had my fears) - You're tir'd of the _Galenic Art_; - 'Twere better, therefore, that we part." - QUAE GENUS made a calm reply, - With acquiescing modesty: - Nor was a harsh, unpleasant word - From these dissolving Doctors, heard. - In truth, each party was good-hearted; - So they shook hands and thus they parted. - - Our _Proteus_ now is seen to grace - Another and a favour'd place; - The confidential servant he - In 'Squire _Woodlands'_ family: - But the poor 'Squire was hast'ning fast - To that sad hour which prov'd his last; - For soon, alas, the fatal gout - Got in his head, and let life out; - When Madam made a quick retreat - From town to the fine country seat - Which now was her's, with all the rest - Of the great wealth which he possess'd. - - What tears the widow'd Lady shed - In sorrow o'er her husband dead, - Whether as they her cheeks bedew'd, - They flow'd from grief or gratitude; - How calm or poignant was her woe, - We tell not, for we do not know. - Yet this we can with safety tell, - Because we surely know it well, - That through her husband's sickly life - She was a tender nurse and wife. - --But now another scene appears, - Dispers'd her grief, dried up her tears; - Rich as she was and still a beauty, - She look'd to change her line of duty; - 'Twas Nature's act, as all will see - Who read her little history. - - In earlier years, ere she was led - By Hymen to the marriage bed, - VALCOUR and she each other lov'd, - But their fond passion hopeless prov'd. - --She was high-bred with fortune small, - And his Commission was his all: - For though he was of ancient line } - And did with noble virtues shine, } - He was the youngest child of nine; } - And ere her marriage rites were o'er - He sought renown on India's shore. - What he thus bravely sought he found, - And once more trod on British ground, - With that, but little else beside, - A month before Old Woodlands died. - He let her hear that still he lov'd, - She wrote, nor said she disapprov'd; - That was the recipe to cure - The doubts his bosom might endure; - In which QUAE GENUS was employ'd, - And caus'd the good he now enjoy'd. - --But then she acted with discretion; - As her fond husband's sole possession - She would not, at his last, allow - The promise of a future vow: - She felt her tender inclination, - As a reversionary passion - She must not own for him she lov'd, - Till Death each hindrance had remov'd. - For due decorum she obey'd, - And the sage widow's period stay'd; - Nor till Time pull'd the Hatchment down, - Did she her _Valcour's_ wishes crown: - But crown'd they were; a splendid show - Did Fortune on the rites bestow, - When Hymen call'd on Love to shower - Its roses o'er the nuptial bower. - QUAE GENUS did the sports contrive - Which kept the country-folk alive, - And all the scatter'd bounties flow'd - As his disposing hand bestow'd, - Nor did one over-curious mind - Suspect that any lurk'd behind. - Nay, it was order'd to his care } - The gen'ral figure to prepare } - That was to blaze in Portman-Square. } - - He, who had sometime form'd the plan - To set up for a _Gentleman_, - Well knew the purse alone could aid - The progress of that pretty trade, - And now had learn'd, quite at his ease, - To take the upper servant's fees, - Which to fulfil his growing aim, - In a resistless plenty came. - --VALCOUR was grand, his _Eastern Taste_ - Was not dispos'd to run to waste; - Madam had never yet made known - Her beauty to th' admiring town, - And ready wealth was now at hand - Their mutual wishes to command: - Plutus with Fashion standing by } - Impatient languish'd to supply } - Each wish of glowing luxury. } - The tonish trade display'd its store - Where our QUAE GENUS kept the door; - In various forms, a numerous host - All strove who should affect him most, - And by what tempting means engage, - His trusty, promis'd patronage. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS WITH A SPENDTHRIFT.] - - Whene'er enquiry makes a stir - To trace the human character, - The strict and scrutinising eye - Must look for human frailty, - And will perceive as on we range, - Our dispositions prone to change, - Nor like the features of the face, - Fix'd on their first-born, native place. - So many tempting Sirens play - Their games to lead the heart astray, - So many gay temptations smile - The wav'ring prudence to beguile; - So many worldly interests wake - The pliant feelings to forsake - And wander from the beaten road - In which they hitherto have trod; - That reason from her judgement-seat - Must, with a tender rigour, treat - The venial errors of the mind, - And in severity be kind. - --Our Hero an example shews - To ask the candour we propose, - For he, we are compell'd to own, - Had given his thoughts a different tone. - As we have said, it was his plan - To be a _future Gentleman_, - And that he only could attain - By seizing all the means to gain - An added heap to that same store - Which luck'ly he possess'd before. - He, therefore, now had laid aside - Those scruples which his boasted pride - Maintain'd against the retail sense - Of the shrewd _Grocer's_ eloquence, - While, with Sir _Jeffery Gourmand_, he - Preserv'd such pure fidelity. - --And here it should not be forgot - That it was _Molly's_ happy lot, - By some keen plan which he had laid, - To be the Lady's fav'rite maid: - For _Molly_ he sincerely lov'd, - And was with gen'rous passion mov'd; - Nay, when his project he should carry, - He had engag'd the maid to marry: - Thus she was well prepar'd to join - In forwarding the main design; - Which as it may, perhaps, appear - From the surmises hinted here, - Was never, never to refuse - What custom offer'd as their dues, - And all the op'ning hand of chance - Might gather from extravagance. - How far this system may succeed - Will soon be seen by those who read. - - This VALCOUR was a noble creature, - Splendid and gen'rous in his nature; - Nor had these feelings been decreas'd - By the profusion of the East, - Which he from well-earn'd station shar'd; - But honour was his chief reward. - He no amass'd Pagodas brought - Whence treasures are so often sought: - Yet he, the favour'd lot of few, - As they bright fortune's track pursue, - Though India gave him mod'rate store, - Found plenteous wealth on Britain's shore. - --Full many a well fought field he try'd, - And MARS beheld his course with pride, - Nay bade the wreath of triumph glow - The Hero's pride, upon his brow, - While Knighthood's pointed star express'd - The tinsel glitter on his breast. - But VENUS, who such things disposes - Chang'd all the laurel into roses; - And HYMEN did his state enfold - In saffron mantle, rich with gold. - - As Nature in its fancies varies, - Sir CHARLES indulg'd in his vagaries, - With a wild love of shew and figure; - Yet still he was resolv'd with rigour, - A line of prudence to pursue - And keep discretion in his view. - Full droll indeed it may appear - But thus he chose to persevere: - Not to run out was all that he - Consider'd as oeconomy; - If his rents answer'd what he spent - He'd bless his stars and be content; - But never did his views appear - To look upon the coming year. - Nor e'er did he his mind distress - To know if he could live on less: - Nay at the thought how he would laugh, - When told that he could live on half, - And felt affront, if 'twere repeated - That by his servants he was cheated. - --Such a receipt to pamper ruin - Nay to hurry an undoing, - Has seldom given so queer a chance - To gratify extravagance. - --But so it was--QUAE GENUS thought - Just as the rising fancy taught: - While, in mock fashion's borrow'd pride, - MOLLY was seated by his side. - Now as her needle made its way - Some 'broider'd figure to display, - Thinking, perhaps, how well her art - Gave semblance to a two-fold heart; - He fondly call'd her willing ear - With all attention due to hear. - - -QUAE GENUS. - - "Plac'd as we are, it seems to be - The height of that prosperity - Which such as we can e'er enjoy; - And it becomes us to employ - The means it offers to possess - Our views of future happiness. - I doubt not, MOLLY, but you feel, - For your sweet lady, all the zeal, - Which flows alike from due regard - As the just hope of due reward: - But still, I think, it must appear - That we've a doubtful course to steer; - How we may keep within the line, } - Our great folks' interest to combine } - With what we know is yours and mine. } - They are with generous grace endued, - To us how kind they are and good. - But life with them is nought but pleasure; - Luxurious show fills up the measure - Of all their hours, as they run on - Through each meander of the Ton. - They sometimes talk of prudent schemes, - And reason's language veils the dreams; - But the incessant love of change - Invites the unreflecting range - 'Neath ev'ry dome where pride resorts - And fashion holds her motley courts; - Though while they for their pleasures roam - We too well know their cost at home. - This proud parade can never last, - Their ready wealth will soon be past. - --Nay, when I bring the month's account, - And silent point to the amount; - He tells my Lady what I've done, - And she exclaims, ''tis precious fun!-- - We need not for our ruin fear - With such a careful guardian near!' - When I point out the triple charge - In many a bill display'd at large, - She says, 'QUAE GENUS, do not grieve, - Tradesmen, my honest friend, must live! - Nay, when from service you retire, - And sit all plodding by your fire - In thought what profits should repay - The labours of the closing day;-- - When o'er some door we see your name, } - A dealer of great retail fame, } - You have our leave to do the same.' } - - "I made my bow and answer'd nought, - But then I paid it off in thought; - And, as their gen'rous leave they give, - Like others to play tricks and live, - I may begin, perhaps, before - My name is painted on the door; - And, in good time, my fortune try - With that same prosp'ring honesty. - --I tell you, MOLLY, 'tis as clear - As we, dear girl, are sitting here, - That our great folks were both created - So rich, please fortune, to be cheated. - And we must aid them, as you see, - Thus to fulfil their destiny. - For trifles we'll not make a fuss, - They will not be the worse for us: - If we do not our pockets fill, - Others there are who quickly will, - But not by any paltry gains, - As pilfering of _Sovereigns_. - You must not crib a handsome shawl - And say 'twas lost at such a ball; - Nor will you in some corner place - A card or roll of costly lace, - That when you think she has forgot it, - You to your own use may allot it:-- - Nor, when she gives a thrice-worn dress - Your vanity and wish to bless, - Do not within its wide folds smother, - As if by chance, just such another, - As she'd not miss it 'mid such plenty - A wardrobe of full five-and-twenty, - While others, 'mid the toilet's din - Are almost daily pouring in. - Can we such means as these pursue?-- - Would it be just in me and you: - Though I guess by your waggish smile, - What you are thinking of the while. - But still I feel it is not right - That you should lose your perquisite; - Nor do I, my dear girl, incline - E'er to forego the claim to mine, - And tempting opportunity - May tell us what those claims should be, - As 'tis our right to seize the chance - That's furnish'd by extravagance, - When call'd upon to prove our taste - In saving what would run to waste; - For rumpled fin'ry, all thrown by, - Is safer in our custody. - --When t'other day the Knight bespoke - A new great-coat and Hussar cloak; - 'Sure, Sir,' I said, 'you have forgot - Of these same coverings what a lot, - Neither be-spotted, scratch'd or torn - And some of them have scarce been worn, - Which are all hanging in the hall:'-- - 'They're old,' he said, 'so take them all.' - --I bow'd and took them to my keeping; - Snug in my wardrobe they are sleeping. - It is the same, I know it well, - You of your Lady have to tell: - I doubt not but your hoard encreases - Of Spencers, mantles and pelisses: - But let it be our mutual boast - That sage precaution rules the roast; - And take care that we never deal in - Any thing that looks like stealing. - My books are fair, accounts are right, - In them my honour's sound and tight: - Valet I am and Butler both, - A rare advantage to our cloth, - And there's no day, nay scarce an hour - But tempting profits court my power, - Yet may dread _Heaven_ above forsake me, - And _Old Nick_ in his fury take me, - If I the pilf'ring track pursue - Which hireling knaves so often do. - When from the shopmen we receive - The somethings they are us'd to give - As their long, bouncing bills are paid, - 'Tis not our Knight is tax'd, but trade, - Though should we not our poundage claim - _Sum Totals_ would be just the same. - --E'en when, as if a boon, I crave - Some superfluity to save, - Perhaps he'll tell me I'm a fool, - Or threat to floor me with a stool. - --Last week, he said, 'at our next fete, - (Mind what I say and hold your prate) - Let the desert in splendour shine - With gay plateaus and many a pine.' - When as, to check the cost's encrease, - I hinted what they were a piece, - He ranted, 'if there are not _five_, - Thou slave, I'll cut you up alive. - Dare you look piteous? for then - You scurvy clown, I'll order _ten_.' - - "These gay delusions cannot last, - The spendthrift scene will soon be past; - And, in another year or two - You'll see that what I say is true. - When Banker's checks, that easy pay - Like fancy's ghosts have pass'd away, - When the whole funded wealth is sold - Another story will be told; - When all the ready cash is flown, - The country-rents will change their tone, - Nor will the half-grown oaks supply - The means for one year's luxury. - Crabbed Entail will rise beside } - And dare the acres to provide } - The power to feed their needy pride, } - And Mortgage-deeds in vain will strive - To keep the piteous show alive. - While thus the vain folk whom we serve, - Do from each point of prudence swerve, - While thus they waste in such a way, - To Luxury the willing prey, - I know, my girl, what I've to do, - And faith, shall leave the rest to you!" - - -MOLLY. - - "My dearest friend, you are so clever, - That I could hear you talk for ever. - Let not QUAE GENUS be afraid, - He ne'er shall want my ready aid; - For surely to his heart 'tis known, } - His ev'ry interest is my own, } - At least I feel that we are one. } - O yes, I comprehend him well!" - But now she heard her Lady's bell, - A summons that must be attended,-- - So here the conversation ended. - - Thus VALCOUR and his brilliant dame - Attain'd their folly's highest aim, - To scale the ladder of the Ton - As many wealthy fools have done, - And laugh, if they should hear the call, - "Your foot may slip and you may fall." - They did in every thing agree, - With the same eye each object see. - "Whate'er you fancy must appear - So very right my dearest dear!-- - And whatsoe'er you do approve, - Cannot be wrong, my sweetest love!" - --Such was their billing and their cooing, - As they were hast'ning on to ruin; - Nor did they see that _Fashion_ laugh'd, - While she their costly nectar quaff'd; - Or 'mid the crowds that might attend - Their banquets, they had not a friend. - But such too often is the case - Where Folly takes the highest place; - And upstart fortune fain would be - The ape of rank and family. - There vulgar wealth pays dear for places - With Lordships, Ladyships and Graces, - Who at its table may appear } - Or once or twice or thrice a year, } - When luxury does the feast prepare; } - And yet their host but coldly greet, - If they should meet him in the street. - --But true or not, howe'er that be, - In this career of vanity, - Winter's fine pleasures pass'd away - And Summer made the country gay, - While fashion now set out to grace - The Country seat and Wat'ring place, - VALCOUR and MADAME now were seen - Parading on the Brighton Stein, - But where, though envied and admir'd, - With the same scenes they soon were tir'd: - Besides 'twas decent to retreat - And give life to their ancient seat. - Thus while th' astonish'd Natives stare - _Woodlands_ receiv'd the tonish pair; - While they the rural 'Squires surprise } - With splendid hospitalities; } - And even here the money flies. } - - The Knight when sporting in the East, - Was wont to hunt the brindled beast, - Or the long, pointed jav'lin plant - From castled back of elephant, - In the fierce tiger's spotted side, - And gloried when the savage died: - He therefore would not deign to share - The conquest o'er a tim'rous hare; - Nor push on in a break-neck pace - Through all his wiles the fox to chace. - But when the sportsmen left their game, - And weary to his mansion came, - Which they were always glad to do, - Whene'er that mansion was in view, - QUAE GENUS heard the orders gay - To be fulfill'd without delay, - As the loud and welcome brawl - Re-echoed through the lofty hall,-- - "Prepare, that my good friends may dine, - The turkey and the smoking chine, - The pasty and whate'er is best - To furnish out an instant feast! - Be sure 'tis your attentive task, } - To give them all that they may ask, } - The bowl, the tankard and the flask;" } - But then the Knight in whispers hinted, - "When you perceive my time is stinted, - And both my deafen'd ears no more - Can bear the Bacchanalian roar; - When it appears the stupid asses - Scarce know the bottles from the glasses, - Nor can perceive, 'mid boosing laughter, - That I am only sipping water; - When I shall unperceiv'd retire, } - Remember it is my desire, } - _They do not set the house on fire_." } - --Thus, when o'erwhelm'd with sporting guest, - Sir CHARLES his constant wish express'd, - And, after many a vain essay, - Contriv'd at last to steal away, - With something like an aching head, - To seek the refuge of his bed. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS ATTENDS ON A SPORTING FINALE.] - - In drunken freaks QUAE GENUS knew - Sense was oft gone and feeling too; - That legs might tables overturn, - And fallen lights would flare and burn; - Nay, flaming mischief might attend - On lighted snuff and candle's end. - Thus to be safe, without delay - The threat'ning lights he bore away, - And, to avoid a falling spark, - Left parties snoring in the dark. - Thus stretching as their limbs were able, - On chair, on floor or on table, - QUAE GENUS did not own a fear - That there was any danger near, - So left them till the day should break - And fev'rish nature bid them wake; - When, yawning round the sporting closet, - Some groom brought in their morning posset; - And, hobbling off as they were able - To mount their horses at the stable, - They left the Knight their humble thanks, - Hop'd Madam would excuse their pranks, - And sought their homes, perhaps, to hear - A wife talk loud in either ear. - - Such were the jovial sportsmen's meetings - And these their hospitable greetings; - But rural dames who were received - With kindness while old _Woodlands_ liv'd, - As they found such an alter'd state - Ne'er enter'd twice the mansion gate: - The 'Squires' wives would ne'er resort - To one so chang'd to pay their court; - And, though she was with title crown'd, - The proud acquaintance they disown'd. - - Brimful of town conceits and folly, - My Lady now grew melancholy; - And when the sporting season came - Her daily looks were not the same: - That time of noisy, jovial joy, - Did ev'ry lively sense annoy, - Nor would she any reas'ning hear.-- - "To Town we'll haste away, My Dear! - Let us be gone without delay: - To London let us haste away! - These rooms where staring figures sprawl - In ancient hangings on the wall, - Nay, where at noon, the shaded light - Gives dimness of approaching night, - Which nought can chearful make and gay, - Or give the semblance bright of day, - But that well-dress'd, high-minded glee - That here, alas, we never see, - Which could alone from this dull room, - Snatch the grim likeness of a tomb! - Let us be gone without delay, - To London let us haste away!" - --She gave a piteous look and sigh'd, - When, with soft grace, Sir CHARLES replied. - "As such is your desire, My Love, - To Town we quickly will remove; - If it will soothe my charmer's sorrow, - We will set out for Town to-morrow. - But have you thought, my dearest Dear, - That not a creature will be there? - Will you not find we shall be hurl'd - Into a lifeless, empty world; - Where, till the winter near approaches - You will see nought but Hackney coaches? - I'm sure you'll think yourself quite undone, - If you're a month alone in London. - To your gay spirit Oh how dull - On a soft window-seat to loll, - And count with your half-sleeping eye - How many _Nobodies_ go by! - While mothers with their babies tell, - What sick'ning stuff they have to sell, - When from their ceaseless screaming noises, - You ask for what Heaven gave them voices: - Till like the fiddler in a rage, - Which you have seen in Hogarth's page, - You stop your ears, with anger burn, - And cry 'to _Woodlands_, let's return.' - I'd rather sit and yawn, I own, - Here in the country than in town, - Where to dull club-rooms I must go, } - E'en in the streets no creature know, } - And ride alone in Rotten-Row. } - But be it as you wish."--"Then I," - The Dame delay'd not to reply, - "Desire such orders you will give - That we, with prompt dispatch, may leave - This stupid spot and hurry strait - With post horse gallop through the gate, - And when we've got a dozen mile, - I then will thank you, Love, and smile. - Yes, I will bid adieu to care, } - Though not a soul in Portman-Square, } - When once I see that I am there. } - Believe me I would rather hear - As sounds more pleasing to my ear, - Fishwomen's cries along the street, - Than noisy sportsmen when they meet, - Whose noisy, vulgar, drunken brawl - So often echoed in our Hall. - The Town, perhaps, is not so full, - But London never can be dull: - Thin as it may be, or e'en thinner, - We shall find folk to eat our dinner, - And though no crowd will throng at present, - Our little parties will be pleasant. - The Drama too presents its play - To make the evening pass away; - Blue hills delight and lawns so green - When they are painted on the scene; - O how I like the woods and rocks - When I can view them from a box!-- - I'm charm'd with such a rural sight - When it is seen by candle-light. - We shall to pass our time contrive, - And keep our pretty selves alive, - Till the world rolls to Town amain:-- - Then we shall be ourselves again." - --They were themselves, and suffer'd pride - Still to remain their fatal guide, - And to bring on that period near, - When Folly claim'd its full arrear. - - It is not needful for our rhyme - To tell how long or short the time - Which the vain Spendthrift Genius thought - Was fit to bring their schemes to nought. - All we shall say is, with the song, - "The days of pleasure ne'er are long." - And, if to proverbs we resort, - "The days of sorrow ne'er are short." - - And here it is but truth to tell, - That our QUAE GENUS acted well. - For never, as his duty call'd, - When home affairs were so enthrall'd, - That ere the Winter months would end - There would be no more coin to spend, - Nor credit found to give the swing - To gay manoeuvres through the Spring, - He did not from his master's ears - Conceal the state of his affairs; - And though, too oft receiv'd with scorn, - Gave hints, but still they fail'd to warn. - --At length, howe'er, the period came - From fashion's list to blot their name; - When it was vain for pride to look - In the card-rack or porter's book, - While the old guard might sit and snore, - But rarely summon'd to the door; - That door, of late, so seldom quiet - From lounging call or pleasure's riot, - Unless it, with less noisy stir, - Announc'd some threat'ning visiter. - --Encreasing wants began to press, - And all things threaten'd that distress - Which vanity knows not to bear, } - That pride contemplates with despair, } - Yet spurns regenerating care; } - And a pale demon seems to see - In form of sage oeconomy. - - The scene thus drawing to a close, } - Friends, aye, and faithful ones arose, } - With their best aid to interpose, } - And VALCOUR found, when least expected, - That falling he was not neglected. - For he was lov'd by all who knew - The virtues whence his follies grew; - And some of these so active were - As to preserve him from the snare - Of Us'rer's gripe and Lawyer's strife, - That seem'd to threat his future life. - They did with counsel sage persuade - And brought the ready, golden aid, - Which check'd the powers that did enslave him, - Before it was too late to save him. - - The well-weigh'd scheme which prudence chose - Was rather an unsav'ry dose: - Madam, at first, declar'd it treason; - But humbled pride was taught to reason. - Enough was spar'd to share the dance - And gay festivities of France; - With promise, when five years were o'er, - They should regain the British shore; - And, on repassing _Woodlands_ gate, - Would find a noble, freed estate; - And, from their follies past remov'd, - Reside respected and belov'd. - - Now, all this serious bustle over, - They sought, and soon set sail from, Dover, - And, in the common period, found - Their footsteps meas'ring Gallic ground. - QUAE GENUS saw them to the sea, - Then gave a look of sympathy, - And, with respectful rev'rence said, - "When you again Old England tread, - To re-enjoy my happy station - I will quit any situation, - And I dare boast you will receive me, - As true and faithful as you leave me!" - --To France he was not quite inclin'd, - And MOLLY chose to stay behind; - So both brush'd up their sep'rate graces, - To go in search of _other places_.-- - For, 'twas not yet our Hero's plan - To set up for a GENTLEMAN. - - - - -CANTO VII - - - In the world's ever varying range - There scarce can be a greater change - Than from the hourly means of carving - Without reserve, to hints of starving; - From the men-cooks' superior waste - To fireless kitchen's cold repast; - From ham and fowl and beef and veal, - To a lean shoulder's third day meal, - From well-skimm'd broths, to greasy pot,-- - But this was now our Hero's lot: - And here, perhaps, it may be fair - To ask what chance could bring him there; - For expectation sure might think - That he would rather soar than sink, - At least, he would his rank maintain - Among High-Life's domestic train, - And still display the priggish air, - In some fine street or splendid square, - Instead of opening the door - In _Humbug-Buildings_, Number FOUR; - Well known, as we shall shortly see, - For weighty scenes of Usury. - --How he this curious post obtain'd, - Without reserve will be explain'd. - - My Lady VALCOUR, as 'tis known - To hap sometimes to Dames of Ton, - When sudden wants were set on edge - Might look a precious stone to pledge, - To raise a hasty sum or so - She did not wish Sir CHARLES to know; - For little systems of disguise } - Are seldom seen to cause surprise } - In the best order'd families. } - MOLLY she fail'd not to employ - In care of any glittering toy, - Which might so very useful be - In moments of necessity: - But this strange, awkward kind of trade - Was far from pleasant to the maid, - As she, to 'scape from prying eyes - Was told to change her air and size, - And, to perform her work complete, - To be a perfect counterfeit: - In short, as was not uncommon, - To make herself another woman. - She therefore, thought it best to ask - QUAE GENUS to perform the task; - And old John SQUEEZE was recommended, - Who kindly to such wants attended: - Though some who lov'd a joke to crack, - Would laugh, and call him _Squeezing JACK_. - - In a snug corner of the town, - To nameless spendthrifts too well known, - The miser liv'd, if life it be - Whose meat and drink was usury; - For the old Hunx was ne'er content, - Unless he gain'd his _Cent. per Cent._; - And as all traffic with this Elf - Was secret interchange of pelf, - He fear'd not the rapacious paw - Of daily violated law.-- - Diamonds that did 'mong ringlets blaze, - And caught the night's admiring gaze; - The necklace that from snowy neck - Did in its cluster'd fashions break - On swelling bosom, plac'd to share - The beauty nature planted there; - The rows of pearl that gave a charm - To the round grace of taper arm: - The bright drops which each sister ear - Does with an equal splendour bear; - And dazzling circles that are seen - Of rubies red, of em'ralds green, - And sapphires blue, whose blended rays - The rainbow to the hand conveys, - All these, at times, are forc'd to rest - Within the miser's gloomy chest: - In iron darkness there to wait - A longer or a shorter date, - Till gold's redeeming power shall say, - Come and re-brighten on the day. - - On errands of this grave intent, - QUAE GENUS now and then was sent, - And how he did his plans arrange, - Or in what shape place the exchange; - How he contriv'd these sly affairs, - Paid soon, or lengthen'd the arrears, - Of this we know not more nor less, } - For we ne'er heard his tongue confess, } - And 'twould be wasting time to guess. } - But, somehow, he contriv'd to please, - By grace or guile, old Master SQUEEZE, - And by some strange, peculiar art, - He gain'd upon the Us'rer's heart, - If an heart such a being owns, - Who chuckles when misfortune moans, - At least, when that is understood - To be a vessel fraught with good. - But to proceed, the mind's keen eye - Of _Squeezing Jack_, thought he could spy - In our QUAE GENUS that quick sense, - Which might reward his confidence; - That wary, penetrating thought, - Which could not be too dearly bought, - And in his present, sickly trim, - Would be of golden use to him: - For he grew old and wanted aid, - In his nice calculating trade. - In short, in every point of view, } - As one who certain fancies knew, } - The old man felt that he would do, } - And that he could his interest make - A station at the desk to take. - - Not the first time on business bent, } - Though 'twas the last by MOLLY sent, } - Our Hero to the office went, } - With his redeeming coin to pay - And fav'rite gems to bear away, - He was desir'd to give an ear - To the proposal he should hear, - When _Squeezing John_ in cautious strain - Did thus his secret wish explain. - "--From what I know and all I see, - You soon will be at liberty, - The gentry to whom you belong - Will not require your service long; - And 'twould be well were you to take - The offer which I now shall make: - That is, as you already see, - To come, my friend, and live with me. - I hope no thought your mind engages, - About such petty things as wages, - I would not wish you to receive - What common spendthrift masters give; - I exercise a better way - All such as serve me well to pay: - Your bed and board will lib'ral be, } - For you will live as well as me, } - Such is my home oeconomy. } - As for the service you will find - Its profits fully to your mind; - If you my interests understand, - Your own will follow hand in hand; - Nay, I my promise shall maintain, - That you a pretty fortune gain. - All I ask is, that you will be - The pattern of fidelity, - Which my observing eye has seen - To others you have lately been; - I have, my friend, but one word more, - And then my speechifying's o'er: - 'Twill answer ev'ry purpose better - And I shall hold myself your debtor, - For reasons you shall plainly see, - If you will wear your livery, - For that can never be disgrace - Which soon will gain superior place." - - QUAE GENUS thought he could but try, - If but from curiosity, - Though some have said that then he view'd - The future freaks that he pursued. - Thus at the desk he soon was seated - To learn how folly could be cheated, - And to consent to play the rogue - With any spendthrift vice in vogue, - That did in pleasure's round perplex - In any form, in either sex. - The gains were great, nay almost certain, - While pride so slyly drew the curtain, - Indeed, it was so nicely clos'd, - That the rich schemes were ne'er expos'd. - --At first, a kind of gen'rous feeling, - A sense of honourable dealing, - Dispos'd him, with some doubts, to look - Into the Broker's daily book, - While he oft dipp'd his pen and thought, - Ere he the huge per-centage wrote: - Nay, he could pity the distress - Which did upon their bosoms press, - When, thus to pay for ill-bought pleasure, - They yielded up their gayest treasure. - --But then he mutter'd, "Where's the shame? - Others, like us, would do the same: - If we were now to shut up shop, - Others into the place would pop; - Extravagance would have its run - And fools speed on to be undone. - And their sad wants would be supplied, } - If _John_ had laid his schemes aside, } - Or had turn'd Methodist and died." } - - Thus interest to our Hero clung - To stifle sense of right and wrong; - And so at once he bade adieu - To Conscience for a year or two: - But, when attain'd the wish'd for store, - It should resume its former power. - Thus, at the opening of his trade, - He a most curious bargain made - With the Divinity within, - To help him on through thick and thin. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS IN THE SERVICE OF A MISER - - But now, a Fair One will appear, - About her four-and-twentieth year; - Though, whatsoe'er may be her age, - She must be brought upon the stage, - Blooming and gay and form'd to please, - By the old man was call'd his niece, - And, though there were some doubts we know, - It turn'd out she was truly so. - All saw that he was fond of Miss, - Would often give and take a kiss, - And even with his money part, - To purchase smiles and make her smart. - Abroad she was not us'd to roam - But Novels read and stay'd at home. - The pantry's boon, so lean and spare, - Was forc'd on her unwilling care; - For when Old Avarice complain'd - Of the great cost his life sustain'd, - He ne'er forgot, 'mong human ills, - The baker's and the butcher's bills: - But 'twas her interest to be - The slave of his oeconomy. - --An errand-man and one poor maid, - Were all who gave the household aid: - They were to am'rous purpose bent - So fed on love and were content; - And as QUAE GENUS touch'd the _Money_, - Which was his fount of _Milk_ and _Honey_; - His easy stomach never car'd - How lean the joint on which he far'd. - --It was his interest to agree, - In all things with Miss EMILY, - As she could humour Uncle SQUEEZE, - And now and then possess the keys: - Nor could she shape her main design - Unless QUAE GENUS would combine - The hobbling _Old One_ to deceive, - And let in _Friends_ without his leave. - She gave him physic, tuck'd his bed, - The pillow smooth'd to rest his head; - Then all around the curtains drew, - And having spoke the night's adieu, - Would gaily hasten down below - To smile upon the favour'd beau - Whom her commanding Billet-doux - Had summon'd to an interview. - From Uncle JOHN's great hoard of wealth, - And the old man's declining health, - 'Twas thought she soon would be a prize - Which smart young men might idolize; - That a great fortune Miss would be - From heirdom or by legacy: - While lovers, therefore, not a few, - Had pass'd before her in review, - Her kind warm heart might not disown - That she had fix'd her thoughts on one; - And he it was who had the power - To share with her an evening hour. - But to the point, which even love - Could not from her keen thoughts remove: - The Lady did not long delay - Thus the prime secret to convey, - "I have a precious plan, QUAE GENUS, - And if 'tis manag'd well between us, - We may, as I know how, contrive, - To make our mutual int'rests thrive. - I have already something done, - As you will hear, for _Number ONE_, - And there's another scheme will do, - As you will know, for _Number TWO_. - My uncle's wealth is that of _Croesus_, - But how he'll leave it, Heaven bless us, - I know not, nay, the trembling elf, - May not as yet be sure himself; - Though he, perhaps, may leave the whole - To Charity, to save his soul.-- - Some folk have thought to make a will, - Is signal given for Death to kill, - But should he an intestate, die, - The long expecting family, - Will feed the greedy, gaping maw, - Of griping, grinding, hungry Law. - For though I am the next of kin, - Such various claimants will rush in, - Such troops of distant, country cousins, - Will haste by scores, at least by dozens; - So many Lawyers may appear, - To promise each an ample share, - That in what way these things may end, - If fortune be my foe or friend, - I wish, by all means, to ensure - Some independent sinecure, - And as you must the labour bear, - You will a just advantage share. - But not an atom of his wealth - Must we attempt to take by stealth, - No, though we could this night convey, - As a sure, undiscover'd prey, - His iron chest with all the gold - And brilliant treasure it may hold. - I only ask my views to aid - But a small portion of his trade, - And while above his riches flow, - We may make mod'rate gains below, - And what of that by us is done, - Must be from funds which are our own." - --The parties were at once agreed, - And the scheme fail'd not to succeed: - Nay, had stern fate the stroke delay'd, - A decent fortune they had made; - But as it was, their transient gain - Gave them no reason to complain. - --Now, ere twelve months or more were past, - JOHN SQUEEZE, alas! had breath'd his last; - And though they search'd the mansion round, - A Will was no where to be found; - And relatives in numbers came, - Their rights to prove, their shares to claim; - While the shrewd Miss AMELIA SQUEEZE - Lock'd ev'ry box and kept the keys. - --With angry threats the house resounded, - It was confusion worse confounded; - While she secure in prudent savings, - Calmly beheld their idle ravings, - As different ways they did pursue, - Which diff'rent Lawyers bade them do. - --And here we cannot overlook - The wary way the lady took. - Her favourite swain, it must be known, - A Pleader was of some renown; - To whom this offer she propos'd, - With which the learned Lawyer clos'd. - "If of the wealth of Old JOHN SQUEEZE, - Of whom you know I am the Niece, - You prove me to be lawful Heir, - My charms and fortune you shall share." - --Thus she was left amid the paws - Of Lawyers and the tardy Laws, - With chance that when ten years were past, - A husband she might get at last. - --Not as such union often ends, - She and QUAE GENUS parted friends: - But ere Old SQUEEZE'EM was dispos'd, - Ere the cold marble o'er him clos'd, - Our Hero had a gracious tender - From _JACOB LEVI, Money-Lender_. - He, having had some kind of feeling - With JOHN in his usurious dealing, - Observ'd QUAE GENUS, who had been - Just such an useful go-between, - As would find favour in the sight - Of the keen, cautious Israelite, - Who, therefore, with inviting grace, - Offered him his vacant place. - The proverb says it is a curse - To go at once from bad to worse, - And though, at first, he did not feel it, - Time was determin'd to reveal it. - --Of late, or more or less, 'tis true, - Distress was in his frequent view, - But then in its prevailing feature, - It was but of a transient nature. - A proud man for a whole week's date - Might cease, perhaps, to eat off plate, - Still, Dresden service could supply - A varying scene of luxury: - Or vanity might not resort - To aid the splendour of a Court, - From absent state of decoration, - Required by certain rank and station: - But, for a time, well-fram'd excuses - Custom or fashion ne'er refuses; - When soon again the plate is seen, - The silver-smith has made it clean, - And in a week, or month, or so, - It will resume its usual show. - Again the glitt'ring gems display - At the gay Fete the dazzling ray, - On having done the appointed duty - To ease the wants of pride and beauty. - But now another scene succeeds, } - The pledge is turn'd from glitt'ring beads } - To mortgages and title-deeds; } - The short-liv'd search of ready-rhino - By imps of Loo or of Cassino; - Or to stop short a lawyer's threats, - And dunning for a tradesman's debts; - These yield to frightful views of ruin, - Which threaten absolute undoing; - That grasp at family estates - Of honour'd name and ancient dates, - And hasten on the heirs in fee - To gallop fast to beggary. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS & THE MONEY-LENDERS.] - - QUAE GENUS, was brimful of zeal - To seize each turn of Fortune's wheel, - And eager to fulfil his plan - Of rising to a gentleman: - But though gold roll'd beneath his eye, - Though fees were paid and bribes were high, - His heart, which had not lost its feeling, - Shrunk from the base, remorseless dealing, - That gloating avarice employ'd - O'er the rich ruins it enjoy'd. - While, therefore, some kind, gen'rous sense - His heart felt of benevolence, - And ere of honour quite bereft, - He the rapacious LEVI left, - In hope he might obtain a place - He should not think as a disgrace; - Nor of success had he to fear - From VALCOUR'S written character; - Where all his virtues were pourtray'd, - In such a view that he was made - In every domestic sense - A paragon of excellence. - But sad to tell, it was not long - Before temptations, more than strong, - Were urg'd by a kind, zealous friend, - Who us'd on bus'ness to attend - Old LEVI'S Levees: He display'd - In artful whisper, the sure trade, - Which, manag'd as he could define, - Would shortly prove a golden mine. - "Think not," he said, "that I am canting; - Money, my friend, is all that's wanting. - A certain sum could I command, - I soon would purchase house and land. - Ere a short time had onward run, - I would strut forth a BUCK OF TON; - The world, with its dull pride, defy, - And jostle fools of quality." - - QUAE GENUS felt his brooding plan - To be a finish'd GENTLEMAN, - At that same word his spirit started, - And instantly he grew great hearted. - "Your scheme," he said, "at once explain: - If gainful, you shall share the gain." - "But hear me out," it was replied, - "And then you will be satisfied. - Know, you must an assistant be - At a club's gaming revelry. - O check, I pray, your staring eyes, - From looking on me with surprise; - Let not the scheme I offer freeze you, - Hear, and then do as it may please you! - Think not I would your hand entice - To deal the card or shake the dice; - You must employ a knowing friend, - And such a one I can commend; - He's wary, and suspicion guards, - By shrewdly managing his cards; - Whate'er he does is done with ease, - And heaps his gains by slow degrees, - Till he has such a sum attain'd - By which his object may be gain'd, - Then one successful effort make, - And seize a fortune in the stake. - He watches those who love to drink, - And sticks to such as cannot think: - He turns his skilful inclination - To young men who are prone to passion; - He has cool words for those who're heated, - Whose pride will not believe they're cheated; - In short, he can a card entice, - And fix good-fortune on the dice. - With him you may your money trust; - He will be generous as he's just: - Proceed at once on manly ground - And trust him with five hundred pound; - With that, my friend, let him alone, - He'll use it as it were his own." - - QUAE GENUS enter'd on his place - And acted with becoming grace; - But with his keen, suspicious eye - He saw what look'd like treachery, - Which wak'd the fancy to be thrifty, - So, of his pounds he gave but fifty. - --On his official duties bound, - He pac'd the hubbub-table round, - And with attentive leering kenn'd - His trusty, confidential friend, - Whose frequent nods and silent grinning - Full plainly told, he had been winning; - But, when QUAE GENUS ask'd th' amount, - His friend thus settled the account. - "It does my very heart-strings grieve - That you have nothing to receive: - Two hours ago my luck was crost, - And then your fifty pounds were lost; - For when with your advance I play'd - Fortune became an arrant jade: - Though since 'tis true that I have won, - But then the risk was all my own; - And, if you had but ventur'd more, - Your purse might now be running o'er. - With a round sum to-morrow night, - Fortune may set all matters right: - As 'tis in war, so 'tis with gold, - She fails not to protect the bold." - - Our Hero was not such a _Flat_ - As to sit down content with that: - He first determin'd to resist - Or with a cudgel or a fist: - But on reflection, felt an awe - Of the grim, prosecuting law: - Besides, had he enrag'd the room, - It might have prov'd his final doom: - Still he for vengeance inly cried - And he was shortly satisfied. - --The _Bow-street_ folk he happ'd to know - Were walking that way to and fro, - And when more closely on the watch, - He mov'd the door's unwilling latch, - The myrmidons rush'd rudely in, - And all above was noise and din. - Candles and lamps were all put out, - When it became a mingled rout, - While for the money on the table - Each grasp'd as much as he was able; - And our QUAE GENUS had engross'd - More than by _Humbug_ he had lost; - Then nimbly made a safe retreat - To lodgings in no distant street. - - Here, for some time he pac'd the room, - To dissipate th' oppressive gloom - That did upon his spirits light - From the proceedings of the night. - "Indeed," he said, "what then was done - I do not wish to look upon, - Nay I would from my mem'ry cast - My curious ways for some time past, - But certain, busy reasons tell - Such effort is impossible. - All therefore, that I now can do - Is the forthcoming time to woo - With those endearments which may prove - QUAE GENUS worthy of its love: - With that just sense of what is right, - That makes the moral lamp burn bright." - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS OFFICIATING AT A GAMING HOUSE.] - - Such pensive musings on him wrought - Till he his welcome pillow sought, - When, as absorb'd in sleep he lay, - Fancy did on his spirits play, - And in a strange and fearful dream - A form did on his vision beam, - With ghastly look as it were come - From the pale confines of the tomb. - He seem'd with one uplifted hand - Instant attention to command, - The other, as he solemn stood, - Folded around the flowing shroud; - And thus QUAE GENUS seem'd to hear - The hollow voice that pierc'd his ear. - "I am thy foster-parent's shade, } - Who, in the earth, has long been laid, } - And let his counsels be obey'd. } - 'Tis SYNTAX who before thee stands, - And wait with awe his grave commands. - Fool as thou art, in thy misdoing - Art thou not hast'ning to thy ruin? - Am I call'd hither to accuse - Thy erring ways, and idle views? - Do I the wretched agent see - Of gambling fraud and usury? - And is it thus you form the plan - To vault into a Gentleman? - SYNTAX thy memory must own - As the sole parent thou hast known, - Whose mercy did the Foundling save - From menace of an infant's grave. - Better, perhaps, his fond regard - Had not thy sad condition spar'd, - If what of future life may last, - Wakes no contrition for the past. - Hear me, and tremble as I speak, - Though you may human laws escape; - The life you lead is not forgiven - By the offended laws of Heaven. - If such your doings, I can ne'er - Petition for your pardon there. - The present means which you possess, - If rightly us'd, will give success; - Nay, if you cease to roam abroad, - And turn from folly's wand'ring road; - If you keep all things right at home, - Much unexpected good may come. - QUAE GENUS, to my words attend, - The errors of your life amend; - Resist the world's seducing power, - Or fear me at the midnight hour." - --Thus as he thought the vision spake, - The curtains round him seem'd to shake; - And frowning, as in angry mood, - At the bed's foot the figure stood, - When, in a misty gleam of light, - It seem'd to vanish from his sight. - - He woke in such an agitation - His night-cap stream'd with perspiration; - He started with a fearful stare, - Not knowing if to pray or swear. - He did from further sleep refrain - As he perhaps should dream again, - And Sommerden's departed Rector - Might read another curtain-lecture. - But when as through the shutter's crack - He saw the beams of Phoebus break, - Up he arose, the bell he rung, - And, "Breakfast," issued from his tongue: - The loud command was soon obey'd, - And morning meal in order laid. - On sofa stretch'd, he munch'd the toast, - And sipp'd the Bohea, doubly dos'd - With cordial drops, we won't say gin, - Which he pour'd plentifully in, - And did his trem'rous nerves redeem } - By power of the reviving stream, } - From the dire horrors of the dream. } - --His spirits thus with strength recruited, - He turn'd his mind to what was suited - To the condition chance had bound him, - And perils which might still surround him: - Of his late playmates what became - When power broke up the midnight game; - And if pursued by any danger, - To which as yet he was a stranger. - But soon he found, enquiry made, - The Bow-street spirits all were laid; - Nor was it to the party known, - By whom the mischief had been done.-- - Thus, from all legal threat secure, - He felt determin'd to abjure - The course of life he had pursued, - Nor suffer knav'ry to delude - His conduct into any plan - That might disgrace a Gentleman; - The character which his fond thought - Had to a flatt'ring crisis brought, - When he might try, and not in vain, - The wish'd for honour to maintain. - Besides, in favour of his scheme, - He felt the warnings of the dream, - As he their meaning understood - Foreboded much of future good. - - At length his boasting fancies tired - Of all to which his pride aspired; - And, having nothing else to do, - He sauntered forth to take a view - Of what a saunter might present - For serious thought or merriment; - When, as he careless stroll'd along, - Half-humming some new-fangled song, - He heard a voice that did proclaim - His own but too familiar name. - 'Twas Mr. CARMINE, who was known - An artist of the first renown - For portraiture of living faces, - Whose pencil gave and heighten'd graces, - Who, 'mid the hurry of the street, - Did sauntering QUAE GENUS greet: - When, having sought a place of quiet, - Free from the passing, bustling riot, - In civil tones the man of art - Began his Queries to impart. - "Your family, I hope, are well, - And will you Lady VALCOUR tell, - If it so please her you may come - And fetch her fine resemblance home: - Nay she may have forgot, I fear, - That the last sitting's in arrear: - Give but the hint as I demand - And you shall feel my grateful hand." - --QUAE GENUS hasten'd to reply - With the gay VALCOURS' history, - And fear'd that, for a year or two, - The picture must _in statu quo_ - Within his gallery remain, - At least, till they came home again. - "Well then," said CARMINE, "tell me friend, - What fortunes on your steps attend." - "Sir," he replied, "'tis Fortune's pleasure - I should enjoy a state of leisure. - Sir CHARLES, so generous and kind, - Wish'd not that I should stay behind, - Nay, would have paid me high to go, - As I've a paper that will shew: - But certain schemes play'd on my brain - Which fix'd my purpose to remain, - And yet, with all my honest care, - I have not brought one scheme to bear." - "My friend," the artist said, "if you - Have not a better scheme in view, - My place, unless I greatly err, - Would suit your turn and character - 'Tis but to know and to make known - The beauties by my pencil shewn, - And lard, as you the occasion see, - With strokes of modest flattery. - Take care you manage well your tongue - To please the old as well as young, - And study the expressive grace - That's seen to beam on any face; - When, in fair words and cautious mood - You may mark the similitude - Between the charms that smiling live, - And such as art like mine can give. - Nor to the sex your hints confine, - The ermin'd sage and grave divine, - The chubby face of childhood too - Attention must be made to woo, - While I shall to your mind impart - The nomenclature of my art;-- - And if, as I presume you will, - Display the show with ready skill, - From Misses, Beaux, Old Dames and Sages, - You'll gain, Good Fellow, three-fold wages. - --Now turn the offer in your mind, - And, if your prudence is inclin'd - To take it, you will let me know - To-morrow how your wishes flow." - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS WITH A PORTRAIT PAINTER.] - - What though it was his warm desire - From days of service to retire; - Though he now hop'd the time drew nigh - To change his humble destiny, - He ask'd permission of his pride - That one more service might be tried, - As in the class he hop'd to move - It might a source of knowledge prove. - --Where could he such examples see - As in an artist's gallery? - For while he look'd at forms and faces - He might learn all the tonish graces, - Whatever manners could bestow, } - What attitudes were best to show; } - In short, all that he sought to know. } - For the fine folk who visit there - Come deck'd with all becoming care, - That the chaste pencil may not err - From truth of form and character, - Which not alone, while yet they live, - The canvas may be proud to give, - But offer to the admiring eye - Of an unborn posterity! - - "O," he exclaim'd, "this is the plan, } - I all its various merits scan, } - 'Tis HALF-WAY to a _Gentleman_!" } - --Nay, to be brief, the following day - Beheld him all in due array, - And soon alert, submissive, smart, } - Well vers'd in all the slang of art; } - He to perfection play'd his part. } - In mildest tone would just express - The charms a canvas may possess, - Where Loves and Graces seem to smile - And do th' enchanted eye beguile. - Though still he ne'er forgot his duty - To one who might have been a beauty, - There he did not throw out his hints - Of charming smiles and rosy tints, - But to her portrait would refer - For force and grace of character. - Still his own thoughts ne'er went astray, } - He rather told what others say, } - What my Lord B. prais'd yesterday. } - Thus he contriv'd, it seems, to please - CARMINE's fine folk, of all degrees, - And what he gain'd, he now might say, - He got it in an honest way. - - From all he did the Artist thought - He had a real treasure got; - Nor had QUAE GENUS any cause - To grumble at domestic laws; - For all who serv'd them were content - With the well-rang'd establishment. - Above, was all that taste could show, - And ease and comfort reign'd below; - For CARMINE sought not cost to spare, - And splendid plenty revell'd there. - --O Discretion, what thy powers, - To watch o'er life's fantastic hours, - To check warm nature's glowing heat - When passions in the bosom beat, - And whim and fancy's busy train - Play their vagaries through the brain! - But that comptroller of the will, - That sober judge 'tween good and ill, - Or from his folly or his pride - QUAE GENUS seem'd to throw aside. - This was the spot where he might stay, } - Where duty was improving play, } - Till hope should paint the wish'd-for way. } - But whimsies did his wits employ - The play-game of an idle boy, - For which if, at his earliest school, - Thus he had dared to play the fool, - He would have felt the smarting fate - That does on thoughtless culprit wait. - --The easy, morning duties done, - The after-day was all his own, - When, as it surely may be thought - He might have some improvement sought: - But no, his genius seem'd to chuse - His luckless leisure to amuse, - In changing, when brimfull of glee, - The system of the Gallery; - Would make the pictures change their places, - And with his chalk deform their faces, - (For, from a boy, whate'er he saw, - With a rude outline, he could draw,) - Turn down the portraits in their frames, - And look and laugh and call them names. - Though if no other harm were done, - Unknown he might have had his fun: - But hence the mischief did ensue, - The names he call'd were written too: - In short, he turn'd the painter's school - Completely into ridicule, - And, by a TITLE or a SCROLL, - He strove to stigmatize the whole. - --He would a _Lawn-rob'd Prelate_ place - As if he ogled _Caelia's_ face, - Exclaiming "There's no greater bliss, - No, not in Heaven, than _Caelia's Kiss_;" - While _Caelia_ might be made to say - "_Hands off, my pious Lord, I pray! - Remember what you ought to feel-- - The good book says you must not steal; - And steal you will, if you receive it, - For hang me, FUSTY, if I give it_." - --He then, perhaps, would run his rig, - With _Cap and Bells_ on _Judge's Wig_; - When thus his fancy might indite, - And in a well turn'd label write,-- - "_Now should MY LORD be in a fury, - And shake that WIG_, he'd fright the JURY_." - --The portrait of an AGED DAME - Might have this added to her name,-- - "_Your Crutch-stick tells you scarce can walk, - But still you bore all ears with talk; - A most incorrigible Hag, - Who nothing but your TONGUE can wag_." - --A MARRIED PAIR together plac'd, - And with their household emblems grac'd, - Though looking in each other's faces, - He would remove to sep'rate places, - And then contrive to make them say, - "_How shall we, Sir, this act repay? - Our Home Cabals we now shall smother, - At this nice distance from each other; - Thus far removed we shall agree,-- - 'Tis just as we both wish to be._" - --A LORD MAYOR's brow he would adorn - With honours of a double Horn; - Then from a long scroll make him cry, - "_Make room for Cuckolds, here comes I_." - --A LAWYER, clad in wig and band, - With briefs and papers in his hand, - QUAE GENUS would contrive to trace - A JANUS with a _Double Face_, - And each face with a ready tongue - To plead the cause or right or wrong, - Exclaiming in both scrolls--"_'Tis We, - And waiting for a Double Fee_." - Such was his wit, which sometimes told - Its thoughts in flashes far too bold: - Which the Muse knows would not be meet - For her Chaste Spirit to repeat. - --Thus when the Monkey's hand had done - With this display of idle fun, - And in his vacant hour of sense - Had triumph'd in Impertinence; - He would repair his saucy tricks, - The pictures in their places fix, - Wipe out the mischief of the chalk - And bid the portraits cease to talk; - Then with a military air, - Aloud command them--"AS YOU WERE."-- - --Now it, at least, was once a week, - He did this gay amusement seek, - When CARMINE'S absence gave the power - Thus to pass off his leisure hour, - As different faces might present - Fresh subjects for his merriment. - But those foul imps who oft molest, - With awkward thoughts, the human breast, - (As the expression's not so civil, - We will not hint it is the devil,) - Will, as their trade is to deceive, - Fast in the lurch their vot'ries leave; - And soon QUAE GENUS was betray'd - Into the trap his folly laid. - - One vernal eve, he had o'erflow'd - With chalk and chatter ill-bestow'd, - When call'd off for we know not what, - The unfinish'd mischief was forgot; - And in the morning, ere the clout - Had duly wip'd his folly out, - A party, who from town were going, - Came, just to pay what might be owing: - At the same time to represent - Where all their portraits might be sent. - --One _Elder Lady_ rubb'd her eyes, - With equal anger and surprize, - While she could scarce believe she read, - The _Witch_ of _Endor_ o'er her head. - --Another, not of younger age, - Could not restrain her glowing rage, - When _Mother RED CAP_ was the name - Which chalk had given to the Dame; - And then she scream'd aloud,--"_Forsooth, - A Pipe is put into my mouth, - Whose nauseous fumes around me fly - To stamp me with vulgarity_!" - --With them there was a sweet young lady, - In beauty's bloom and vernal gay day; - Her portrait in all stature stood, - With all the grace of attitude, - And charms to turn, though not of stone, - A _Carmine_ to _Pygmalion_. - But she, in all her beauty's pride, - A _Wheel-barrow_ was made to guide, - While ruby lips were seen to cry, - "_Sheep's hearts for those who want to buy_!" - The marble urn which stood behind her, - Was turn'd into a rude _Knife-Grinder_, - And at no very far approach - Was seen a passing _Hackney Coach_, - While all the lawns and groves so sweet - Were scrawl'd into a _London Street_. - --Anger in diff'rent tones were heard, - And when CARMINE in haste appear'd, - Aghast he stood, then vengeance vow'd, - Declar'd his innocence--and bow'd; - But in a few short minutes prov'd - The wicked lines might be remov'd. - If water is not just at hand, - _Saliva's_ always at command, - Which gives the tints a brighter glow, - And leaves a kind of varnish too. - This, with his handkerchief applied, - Soon wip'd the saucy chalk aside. - The Dame exclaim'd,--"_Pray look, d'ye see, - Still more affronts, my Lady B----: - This is the height of all disgrace, - The Painter's spitting in my face_." - CARMINE, without a word, went on, - And when his cleansing skill was shown, - When witticisms disappear'd, - And each offending line was clear'd, - The sudden change appear'd to please, - And angry words began to cease. - But still he thought he ought to show - The threat'ning terms he could bestow. - The maids, each answ'ring to her name, - Aloud their innocence proclaim: - The housekeeper and sturdy cook - Propose to swear on HOLY BOOK, - They could not do it:--Heaven forbid it! - And then they told,--QUAE GENUS _did it_: - On which, the solemn Dames insist - Such Impudence should be dismiss'd. - But though they saw the alter'd show } - Restor'd to all its pristine glow, } - They let th' astonish'd artist know } - Th' insulted portraits should not stay - Where they then were another day. - Thus porters, order'd to the door, } - Away each fine resemblance bore, } - That they might be defac'd no more.-- } - --The Dames departed in a huff, - With _fanning_ cool'd,--consol'd with _snuff_: - While Miss, beneath her bonnet's poke, - Smil'd as if _she_ enjoy'd the joke. - - Our Hero now was seen to wait - The threat'nings of impending fate: - That fate, but in the mildest tone, - CARMINE delay'd not to make known. - "As you vie with me in my art, - 'Tis clear, my friend, that we must part: - Your genius is so full of sport - That you must go,--I'm sorry for't! - Such tricks will bring, as you must see, - Disgrace upon the Gallery; - Indeed, by your confounded fun, - Mischief may be already done! - You talk'd of schemes when you came here, - But, faith, this scheme may cost me dear. - As tricks like these you chuse to play, - 'Twere well that you should march away; - So go, where, spite of common sense, - Your jokes may pass without offence. - Few words are best,--my mind to tell: - Pack up your Chalk,--and so farewell!" - --QUAE GENUS the command obey'd, - As pleas'd to go as if he stay'd. - Here then his _final Service_ ends:-- - But MAN and MASTER parted friends. - - - - -CANTO VIII - - - Life, as a witty Bard has shewn, - Who dealt in just comparison,[1] - Is but a busy pantomime, - Whose actions vary with the time; - Where they who turn from side to side, - According to the wind and tide, - Are more ingenious in their art - Than such as act but one grave part; - Who, as their years pass onward, seem - To glide along one gentle stream. - But here we stop not to contend - Whether, to answer Life's great end, - 'Tis best from place to place to range, - Or fix to one, and never change. - Suffice it, that, from choice or chance, - QUAE GENUS hurried through some dance - Of early life, and, as we see, - Not knowing what the next would be: - But now, disdaining future tricks, - He felt a firm resolve to fix - Upon a steady, better plan, - Of living like a _Gentleman_. - Whether he knew to calculate - The means required for such a state, - The curious eye will shortly see, - In his approaching History. - - [1] BUTLER, the Author of HUDIBRAS. - - It has been well observ'd by some, - "All countries are a wise man's home." - As it is said of diff'rent nations, - The same is true of various stations - Which man is destin'd to fulfil, - Or with, or e'en against his will; - If Reason happens to provide - A steersman who is fit to guide - The vessel o'er life's flowing main, - And sure at last the port to gain. - - How much our Hero had amass'd, - By ways and means now gone and pass'd, - We know not, as we never heard - The hoarded sums he had prepar'd; - But as he had a sense of craving, - And with it, too, a knack of saving, - He must have got a heap of Cash, - Which, for a time, would make a dash. - The _Valcour_ wardrobe almost new, } - The gifts of service, laid _perdu_, } - Would serve him for a year or two; } - And by some _Snip's_ contriving art, - Would fit him well and make him smart: - But stumbling-blocks were found to lay - Before him, and impede his way. - Manners and matter he possest, - His early life had given the best; - And while he as a servant mov'd, - His knowledge of the world improv'd: - But still his face and form were known - In certain quarters of the town, - And the first object to his fame - Was to discard his present name; - For he ne'er did a Father know, - The source from whence a name should flow; - And by QUAE GENUS nought was meant-- - It was a boon by accident, - Which he might, if he pleas'd, disuse, - And any other title chuse. - Through the _Directory_ he waded, - Till his poor eyes were sadly jaded; - Then in the finer streets he stroll'd - Where Names on _Door Plates_ are enroll'd: - But then he fear'd a name to own, - Which would, perhaps, be too well known, - And cause enquiries, that might be - The source of some perplexity. - Reason, at length, rous'd the intention - Of yielding to his own invention, - To eke out from the alphabet, - A name he never heard of yet; - And which his fancy might suggest - As one to suit his project best. - FREE-BORN he thought would do as well - As any other he could tell, - When, his right Christian name of JOHN - Form'd the becoming union; - Then nothing more he could desire - Than trim these names with an ESQUIRE; - And to let the report be spread, - That some rich relative was dead, - And 'twas his Fortune and his Fate - To get the name and an estate. - Should it be ask'd where _that_ might lay, - He had prepar'd himself to say, - (As if half earnest--half in joke, - The smiling answer might be spoke,) - "'Tis here, 'tis there, 'tis everywhere, - Or in some country in the air; - But should you come to _number three_ - In such a street, you there will see - How that estate appears to thrive: - On _Thursday_ next I dine at _five_." - Thus he would find none to suspect him, - Or, dinners given, to neglect him. - - He now to Coffee Houses went, - With looks assuming calm content, - And such as those are seen to wear, - Who easy independence share. - At reading-rooms he frequent sat, - And read or join'd in social chat; - Acquaintance made, no arduous task, - Of those he did to dinner ask. - In gay apartments then he shone - In a good quarter of the town, - But distant, as we may conceive, - From where his masters us'd to live. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS GIVES A GRAND PARTY.] - - _Miss Emily_, the blooming niece } - Of the old Broker, Master _Squeeze_, } - Who made some figure in the piece, } - And, at no very distant page, - Was seen to figure on the stage; - The Lady all her points had carried, - Was rich, and had the _Pleader_ married; - Had chang'd her uncle's name of _Squeeze'em_ - To her shrewd husband's, Lawyer _Seize'em_: - Who, by his cunning and his skill, - Had brought all contests to her will, - When he had got his promis'd fee - Of Beauty, Wealth and Luxury. - To her, with smiles of gay content, - The _'Squire_ his eager footsteps bent, - And did in lofty tone proclaim - His change of fortune as of name; - And told her it would be his pride, - At a small Fete would she preside, - Which he propos'd in style to give, - Where he would all her friends receive; - For this was now the only way - He had to make his party gay: - And the first flourish of his plan - To figure as a _Gentleman_. - --She smil'd and said she'd bring him plenty, - Then ask'd at once his cards for twenty. - --The fete was given,--the dance, the song, - And feasting did the night prolong, - Which pleasure gave to full two score, - Whom he had never seen before;-- - But, his great object to maintain, - These he must strive to see again; - At all their doors his cards present, - And thus, by various compliment, - To form a circle of such friends - As would secure his serious ends, - In social ease to pass the day, - And often find an evening gay. - --But _'Squire Free-born_ quickly found - He did not tread on solid ground, - And 'gan to fear he should not see - The way to that society, - Which forms of life the happiest measure: - By mutual interchange of pleasure. - --'Twas but slight chat if he should meet - His new acquaintance in the street; - He seldom found, or more or less, - But gen'ral forms of _politesse_, - And that, too often, at the best, - Was but in flimsy style exprest. - --Ladies would ask him to the play, - To take his arm and let him pay; - And when to cards, he always lost - More than the wine and biscuits cost. - He found, as yet, but little done-- - 'Twas neither common sense nor fun, - Where kind regard would ne'er encrease, - And int'rest wak'd the wish to please; - Where words were either cold or hearty, - As he propos'd to give a party; - And a good supper was the charm - That did to transient friendship warm, - For that, alas, no longer lasted, - Than while they thought on what they tasted. - - _'Squire Free-born_ soon began to feel - A relaxation in his zeal - To push away that class among - Who did his evening parties throng, - From whom no fair return was made, - And mod'rate fashion was display'd. - Manners were ap'd, but in a way - That did vulgarity betray; - And the best show that he might see, - Was dash of awkward finery:-- - Besides, a rude and rough event - Gave spirit to his discontent. - --He call'd, one day, where, on admission, - The parties were in sad condition; - It was a scene of mutual flame, - 'Tween _Start-up_ and his lovely dame. - He was a clerk on public duty, - And she a most conceited beauty: - When, as he enter'd, her sharp tongue - Began in tones both harsh and strong,-- - "_Pray, FREE-BORN, do you think it breeding, - That he should thus be always reading?_ - _When he does from his office come - 'Tis thus he sits hum-drum at home, - As if he thought so low my wit - I'm not for conversation fit; - Nor does he seem to rate me higher - Than to trace figures in the fire!" - --"Call you, hum-drum, that information - So suited to official station_," - He sternly said, "_which now engages - Attention to these curious pages_!" - --"_My mind_," she cried, "_was in the dark - When I was married to a Clerk:-- - O had I join'd a fool instead - Of one to office breeding bred! - He, who in honour should protect me, - You see, Sir, how he dares neglect me!_" - --In terms polite to praise and blame, - _Free-born_ now hop'd to quench the flame, - And therefore offer'd, nothing loth, - To give a little spice of both. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS, INTERRUPTS A TETE A TETE.] - - "Madam, by persons of discerning, - My friend is known for store of learning; - While you are bless'd with those rare charms, - A Prince might wish to fill his arms." - He gently smil'd and so did she, - At this same two-fold flattery, - Which, in a moment, seem'd to smother - The flames of anger 'gainst each other: - He therefore ventur'd to proceed, - But did not now so well succeed. - "You ask me to unfold my thought, - Which is with truth and friendship fraught. - We all well know, in life's great stake, - There's such a Rule as _give and take_; - A maxim, with your good in view, - I recommend to both of you. - On this, for peace, fix your reliance, - And learn to practise kind compliance. - If he is haughty, soothe his pride, - Nor with disdainful glances chide. - When you are angry, he must chase } - All frownings from that lovely face, } - With tender words and soft embrace. } - Both of you now are in the wrong, - _He_ with his BOOK,--_you_ with your TONGUE." - But, ere he could his speech conclude, - With scornful look and accents rude, - Again the furious Dame began:-- - "_What Impudence is in the Man! - Thus, 'gainst his betters, to let loose - His vulgar tongue in such abuse. - My husband to be thus belied, - Who is my love, my boast, my pride!_" - When _Start-up_ foam'd,--"_You risk your life, - In treating thus my darling wife; - Who, I proclaim, as 'tis my duty, - Has charms superior to her beauty!_" - Then each gave each a warm embrace, - And both star'd in poor _Free-born's_ face, - The one as if _he_ wish'd to beat him, - The other as if _she_ could have eat him. - He then, as suiting her desire, - Threw the base volume in the fire, - When she----"_Thus ends a petty fuss - Which may cross those who love like us; - Though I might wish it had not been - By such a saucy booby seen_." - --_Free-born_, but not from sense of fear, - Now thought it best to disappear; - And as they rang the clam'rous bell, - He heard them both the servant tell-- - "Discharg'd you shall be, if the door - Is open'd to that varlet more." - --Such vulgar threat the _'Squire_ amus'd, - For he no more would be refus'd - By those whose silly actions prove - That they could scold, and lie, and love: - But still he rather felt the wrongs - Which had proceeded from the tongues - Of those who had no fair pretence - At what he said to take offence: - A pretty way to make amends - For having treated them as friends; - In short, he thought it best to fly - His late acquir'd society: - Pert Lawyers and such busy men - As in some office wield the pen; - Who, when their daily labour's done, - Put their best coats and faces on; - Leave home, where tallow dimly lights 'em, - For wax, when some dull fool invites 'em, - The plenteous evening to prolong - In lively glee or tender song, - Or in some funny tale to shine, - And give a current to the wine. - There, too, their wives and sisters flow, } - Gay, scanty finery to show, } - In gawdy trim and furbelow; } - Who can, perhaps, the music play, - And scream the carol of the day; - Nay, work a waltz, while staring eyes - Proclaim their gentle ecstasies. - At length the shawls and wrappers come, - When in their hacks they trundle home. - --Though, after all, whate'er his aim, - Whate'er his fancy chose to claim, - 'Twas not amiss;--this _first degree_ - In what is call'd society, - Where step by step he must advance - To higher place in fashion's dance: - But with the folk, he 'gan to find, - Who din'd with him, he never din'd, - And got no more than casual tea - For what his guests thought luxury; - And, in a snug, familiar way, - For all they gave, they made him pay. - Besides, he sometimes felt offence, - At what he thought impertinence: - Such as they were, both great and small, - He cut acquaintance with them all. - His purse had thus indulg'd his whim, - But they ne'er heard again from him. - - He now suspected that his plan, - Of turning to a _Gentleman_, - Was not so easy to be brought - To such success as he had thought. - But still he ventur'd to turn over - New plans by which he might discover - Some means to realize his scheme, } - But it, at times, began to seem } - Somewhat, indeed, too like a dream. } - - To thinking minds it is not strange - That man is seen so soon to change, - And, when he gets on random chace, - To move so quick from place to place. - If no fix'd principles he trust - Which Reason says are true and just, - The busy world will not restrain him, - Nor in one beaten path maintain him. - Now here, now there, he is as oft - Seen to sink low as rise aloft. - As he moves on, how he will vary - From sober thought to gay vagary; - Nay, seem the tempers to unite - Of Dons 'bout whom historians write; - The one whose name our laughter cheers, - And he who pass'd his time in tears. - What wonder then that we should see - In _Free-born_, that variety, - Which, in his disappointed mind, - Nature may bid us look and find: - Though he must guess profoundly well, - Who could th' approaching change foretell. - - He long since felt it as a folly - To think again on _pretty Molly_, - But when his project seem'd to fail, - Her image did again prevail; - And humbler views began to find - A passage to his wav'ring mind. - Instead of striving to pursue - What he now fear'd would never do, - He fancied that a tender wife - Might give a charm to rural life. - _Molly_ he fear'd not he could move - To bless a home with married Love, - And that a cottage might be found, - With garden green and meadow ground; - Where he might form his fragrant bowers, - And deck the pretty lawn with flowers; - Beneath a beech-tree read his book, } - And sometimes angle in the brook: } - Nay, even wield a shepherd's crook. } - Money he had, and so had she, - And, with a due economy, - Far from the noisy world remov'd, - And by each other fondly lov'd, - They might pass on in plenteous ease, - And lead a life of smiling peace. - He slept, and, in a dream, he swore, } - He saw his _Parent-Friend_, once more-- } - Not looking as he did before, } - But all so smirking, blithe and gay; - When, sitting on a cock of hay, - The prong and rake he seem'd to wield, - As he were master of the field: - He spoke not, but he seem'd to speak,-- - "_This is the life, boy, you must seek_." - --Such was another strong emotion - To aid the new, romantic notion, - And think of nought but Cottage Life, - With pretty MOLLY for his Wife. - He turn'd this over in his mind, - And ev'ry hour felt more inclin'd - To take the Maiden by surprize, - And this fond dream to realize. - - Sweet MOLLY now was gone from town - As waiting-maid to _Lady Brown_, - Who lives a portion of the year - At her fine place in Devonshire; - Nor did _fond Corydon_ delay - To write his mind another day: - While, to amuse th' impatient hours, - He fill'd his room with shrubs and flowers: - Branching _Geraniums_ were seen - To make his ev'ry window green, - And something like a picture wear - Of future scenery he might share. - - Our time does like our watches go - Sometimes too fast,--sometimes too slow; - But to the _'Squire_, for he was still - A _'Squire_, though now against his will, - Old _Bald-Pate_ mov'd with tardy tread, - As if his feet were hung with lead; - But he went on:--An answer came, - Sign'd MOLLY, with no other name! - He thought it odd, but did not wait - To make it matter of debate, - So quick his hurry to be shown - The passion which the page would own. - He read,--"_I've heard, bless Heav'n, my friend! } - (With thanks for what you might intend,) } - Your serving days are at an end: } - Thus I believ'd, and find it true, - I could no longer think of you. - It seems to be your prosp'rous fate - To come into a great estate; - And so I thought it Heaven's decree, - You ought no more to think of me. - Besides, as you have never wrote, - I fancied Molly was forgot; - When soon a tender lover came, - A learned man, of preaching fame; - He press'd me,--I was not obdurate, - And so, I'm married to a CURATE! - The match my Lady much approv'd, - And my good Husband's so belov'd, - Our kind SIR JOHN has given his word - That he shall shortly be preferr'd._ - - * * * * * - - Poor _Corydon_ could read no more, } - But, in a rage the letter tore, } - And kick'd the fragments round the floor: } - Toss'd some things up, and some things down, - Curs'd both the _Country_ and the _Town_; - With pots and pans did battle rage-- - Drove the geraniums from the stage, - And wish'd no object now to see - _Of ruralized felicity_. - - The country letter turn'd the tide - To rush upon his wounded pride: - At once he thought it more than folly - Thus to have offer'd love to _Molly_. - Nay, he began to smile at length; - And, to regain becoming strength, - He took to the well-known resort - Of season'd dish and good _Old Port_: - When as he sat, with uplift eyes, } - And, thro' the window, view'd the skies, } - He ventur'd to soliloquize. } - - "My _genteel folk_ I have declin'd, - At least, the sort which I could find; - And just as much dispos'd to sneeze - At all my _Rural Deities_: - But still I've got a heap of _Cash_, - And, while it lasts, will make a _Dash_! - But here one firm resolve I make,-- - _I never will my Elbow shake_; - And if I take care not to _play_, } - I shall get something for my pay: } - It will not _all_ be thrown away! } - Who knows what CUPID, too, may do? - For I may _win_ if I should _woo_; - And e'en, in spite of this same _Hump_, - _Fortune_ may turn me up a trump. - --My standard now shall be unfurl'd, - And I will rush into the world: - Nay, when I have the world enjoy'd, - With emptied purse and spirits cloy'd, - I then can trip it o'er the main: - VALCOUR will take me back again; - Once more his humble friend receive, - With all the welcome he can give: - We know not what from ill may screen us, - And I, once more, shall be QUAE GENUS." - --He spoke, and seem'd to close his plan - Of keeping up the _Gentleman_. - - The Sun had sunk beneath the west, - To go to bed and take his rest, - As Poets feign, in THETIS lap, - Where he ne'er fails to have a nap; - When, with his second bottle rallied, - Our Hero rose, and out he sallied - In search of any lively fun, - That he, perchance, might hit upon. - --As through a court he chanc'd to pass, - He saw a gay, well-figur'd lass, - Who, in her floating fripp'ry shone, - With all the trim of fashion on. - She had descended from a coach, - And did a certain door approach, - With tripping step and eager haste, - When soon th' illumin'd arch she pass'd: - And still he saw, in height of feather, - Small parties enter there together, - While jovial gentlemen appear'd, - Who, as they came, each other cheer'd. - --He asked, where these fine Ladies went? - The watchman said,--"For merriment; - And should a little dancing fit you, - A crown, your honour, will admit you." - --The 'Squire then rapp'd, the door was op'd, - He gave his coin, and in he popp'd: - The music sounded in the hall, - And smiling faces grac'd the ball, - Where, as he lov'd a merry trip - With some _gay Miss_ he chose to skip, - But as they _Waltz'd_ it round in pairs - A noise was heard upon the stairs, - And strait a magistrate appear'd - With solemn aspect; while, uprear'd, - Official staves in order stand, - To wait the laws' so rude command. - --Sad hurry and confusion wait - On this their unexpected state; - When there broke forth, as it might seem, - From snow-white throats, a fearful scream; - Nor, to add horror, was there wanting - Some strong appearances of fainting: - But Justice, with its iron brow - Unfeeling scowl'd on all the show. - In shriller tones the ladies cried, - In diff'rent key the beaux replied, - Though some consoling bev'rage quaff, - Give a smart twirl, nor fear to laugh: - While coarser voices,--"hold your tongue, - Pack up your alls and come along." - Then, of fair culprits full a score, - And of their dancing partners more, - Beneath stern power's relentless rod, - Were rang'd, and order'd off to QUOD. - They march'd away in long procession - To take the fruits of their transgression:-- - Staffmen did at their head appear, - And watchmen lighted up the rear. - Our Hero felt the ridicule - Of having idly play'd the fool, - And, as he handed on his _Belle_, - He could not but compare the smell - That rotten root and trodden leaf - Do to th' offended senses give - Of those who, by the lamp's pale light, - Through Covent-Garden stroll at night, - With all the garlands which he weav'd - Ere Molly's letter was receiv'd: - And all the fragrance of the flowers - He thought to cull in Molly's bowers; - Nay, which, but the preceding morning, - His promis'd hopes had been adorning. - It was indeed a noisome change, - O it was strange, 'twas passing strange! - But still the watch-house made amends, - Such as they were, they gave him friends. - Which here, I'm not suppos'd to think - Were such as save from ruin's brink; - But lively sprites who have a taste - To hurry on the stream to waste. - Thus, when the welcome morn was come, - And Justice sent the party home; - He and two blades of certain feather - Propos'd to pass the day together: - The one, more grave, declar'd his breed, - Famous on t'other side the _Tweed_, - The other lively, brisk and airy, - Boasted his birth in _Tipperary_; - Though whether this were truly so, - 'Tis from their words alone we know: - But they were easy, free and jolly, - Decided foes to melancholy, - And seem'd well-form'd to aid a day - In passing pleasantly away. - --But first the TRIO thought it best - To snatch some hours' refreshing rest, - When, as it was in Summer's pride, } - They pass'd their jovial hours beside } - The crystal _Thames_ imperial tide; } - And as the river roll'd along, - Made the banks echo with their song. - --At length it was a rival jest - Who of the three could sing the best. - --The sturdy Scot the song began, - And thus th' harmonious contest ran. - - WALLACE, who fought and bled, he sung, - Whose name dwells on a nation's tongue. - The 'SQUIRE, in boist'rous tone declar'd, - And neither lungs nor quavering spar'd, - That Britain triumph'd o'er the waves - And Britons never would be slaves. - Then ERIN'S SON, with sweeter voice, - Exclaim'd, "I'll make you both rejoice; - O with a famous song I'll treat you, - And then you both shall say I've beat you - Your verses are old-fashion'd prosing, - My song is of my own composing; - And though 'tis to lov'd ERIN'S fame, - To all three Kingdoms 'tis the same." - The hearers both politely bow'd, } - When he, of his fam'd subject proud, } - Pour'd forth his accents deep and loud. } - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS committed, with a riotous dancing Party, to the -Watch-House.] - -SONG. - - It has long been agreed by all persons of learning - Who in stories of old have a ready discerning, - That in every country which travellers paint, - There has always been found a protector or saint. - Derry down, etc. - - St. George for Old England, with target and lance, - St. Andrew for Scotland, St. Denis for France, - St. David o'er Wales, so long known to preside, - And St. Patrick, Hibernia's patron and pride. - Derry down, etc. - - He was gallant and brave as a saint ought to be, - For St. George was not braver or better than he, - He would drink and would sing and would rattle like thunder, - Though 'twas said, he was, now and then given to blunder. - Derry down, etc. - - But the jests of his friends he took in good part, - For his blunders were nought but th' excess of his heart; - Though there was but one blunder he ever would own, - And that was when he saw all the claret was gone. - Derry down, etc. - - He'd fight for his country's religion and laws, - And when beauty was injur'd he took up the cause, - For the gallant St. Patrick, as ev'ry one knows, - Was fond of a pretty girl under the rose. - Derry down, etc - - So many his virtues, it would be too long - To rehearse them at once in a ballad or song; - Then with laughter and mirth let us hallow his shrine, - And drown all his Bulls in a bumper of wine. - Derry down, etc. - - Then St. _Patrick_, St. _George_ and St. _Andrew_ shall be - The Protectors of Kingdoms so brave and so free: - Thus in vain will the thunders of _Denis_ be hurl'd, - For our _Trio of Saints_ shall give laws to the world. - Derry down, etc. - - Hard went the hands upon the board, - And ERIN'S praises were _encor'd_. - - Thus when the pleasant song was heard, - HIBERNIA'S minstrel was preferr'd; - Nor from the voice or in the eye - Was there a hint of jealousy: - Nay, while they took their parting glass, - These sentiments were heard to pass. - "The Thistle, Shamrock and the Rose - May challenge all the world at blows: - _English_ and _Irish_ names are known,-- - There's _Marlborough_ and _Wellington_; - And O, what men of glorious name - Do _Scotia's_ annals give to Fame!" - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS engaged with jovial Friends: Or ... Who sings best?] - - With friends like these the 'Squire began - His new career, and thus it ran, - With others whom he chanc'd to light on - In trips to _Tunbridge_ or to _Brighton_, - SWELLS at most public places known - And as gay triflers 'bout the town; - Who might, perhaps, at times resort - To _Billiard-rooms_ or _Tennis-court_, - Where lively grace, and easy skill - Might flatter Fortune to their will. - _Freeborn_ these gay companions sought, - Who soon their brisk disciple taught - How to direct his lively course - By the snug compass in his purse; - In short, who tutor'd his quick sense } - In the gay world to make pretence } - By modest, well-dress'd impudence. } - --Ye _Dandies_, _Bucks_ or by what name - _Bond Street_ re-echoes with your fame; - Whether in _Dennet_, _Gig_ or _Tandem_, - In five-cap'd coats you bang at random, - With such nice skill that you may break - Your own, or _Dulcinea's_ neck: - Or, when lock'd arm in arm you meet, - From the plain causeway to the street, - Drive Ladies in their morning walk, - While you enjoy your lounging talk: - Then saunter off to pass your hours - In roving through those gaudy bowers - Where purchas'd pleasure seems design'd - To occupy the thoughtless mind: - And, having idled through the day, } - To quicken dull night's weary way, } - You seek the mask, the dance or play;-- } - With you our Hero did contrive - To keep himself and time alive; - But now and then too prone to trace - Those scrapes that border on disgrace, - And threat the unreflecting plan - Of the best would-be Gentleman! - From such as these he was not free, } - As we, I fear, shall shortly see, } - In this so busy history. } - --To him no social life was known, - His home, his friends were through the town - Who were seen wand'ring here and there, - Caring for no one, no one's care; - Prepared no pleasures to receive - But coin could buy or chance might give; - And would prove lively or were dull, - As the silk purse was drain'd or full. - For though deck'd out with all the art - That Fashion's journeymen impart, - They never pass'd the tonish wicket - Of High-life, but by purchas'd ticket - Obtain'd by the resistless bribe - To Traitors of the livried tribe, - Which, by some bold disguise to aid, - Might help them through a masquerade; - Or, with some sly, well-fram'd pretence - And varnish'd o'er with impudence, - A proud admittance might obtain - With chance to be turn'd out again: - Nor was the luckless _Freeborn_ spar'd, - When he the saucy trial dar'd. - --One night, the hour we need not tell, - Into a trap the coxcomb fell. - As through the streets he rattled on - Lamps with inviting brilliance shone; - The music's sound, the portal's din - Told 'twas a joyous scene within: - The second bottle of the night, - Might have produced a double sight, - And two-fold courage to pursue - The splendid prospect in his view, - He, therefore bade the Hack approach, - And at the door present the coach; - Then made a push, got through the hall, - And quickly mingled with the ball. - --Whether his face was too well known - Among the dashers of the town, - Who do not an admittance gain - Among the more distinguish'd train, - Whose social habits will exclude - The mere street-trampling multitude, - Who, like the insects of a day, - Make a short buzz and pass away: - Or whether the intruding sinner - Eat as he seem'd to want a dinner; - Or if it did his fancy suit - To line his pocket with the fruit; - Or if he let some signal fly, - Not usual in such company, - Or if his spirits were so loud - As to alarm the polish'd crowd; - Whatever was the Spell that bound him, - Suspicion more than hover'd round him; - For, he replied with silent stare, } - As he was taken unaware, } - When he was ask'd how he came there. } - Nor did he show a visage bold - When, in a whisper, he was told, - But still with steady look express'd - By the stern Master of the feast, - If he wish'd not to play a farce - To make his pretty figure scarce. - --That such a part he might not play } - Which menac'd e'en the least delay, } - He thought it best to glide away; } - And, to avoid the threat'ning rout, - As he push'd in, he darted out. - - A tonish Matron who ne'er fail'd - Where she was ask'd and cards prevail'd, - My Lady Dangle was her name, - And 'twas the fancy of the dame - Still to retain the antique plan - At night to dance in a _Sedan - Sedans_, so known the fair to coop, - When clad in the expanding hoop, - Snug chairs borne on by sturdy feet, - Once seen in ev'ry courtly street; - And one a most uncommon sight, - Was waiting at the door to-night; - Which, in all due array, was come, - To bear my _Lady Dangle_ home. - The Chairmen lifted up the top, - When _Freeborn_, with a sprightly hop, - And his cloak wrapp'd around his face, - Made bold to seize the vacant place: - The bearers, not intent to know, - Whether it were a _Belle_ or _Beau_, - Went on--a cheary footman bore - A flambeau, blund'ring on before: - While, ere the 'Squire, in this sad scrape, - Had time to plan his next escape, - A heap of Paviour's stones which lay - Directly in the Chairmen's way, - Gave them a fall upon the road, - With their alarm'd, mistaken load. - Each Watchman sprang his rousing rattle, - But as no voices call'd for battle, - They did the best without delay - To set the party on their way: - While the attendants on the chair, - Half-blinded by the flambeau's glare, - First rais'd their weighty forms and then - Set the _Sedan_ upright again: - Nor e'er attempted to explore - The hapless head that burst the door. - But such was _Freeborn's_ falling fate, - Which such confusion did create - Within the region of his brain, - He did not know his home again: - Nay, when the wearied Chairmen stopp'd, - Into the house he stagg'ring popp'd; - Then to and fro got up the stairs, - And, straddling o'er opposing chairs, - He star'd, but knew not he was come } - To Lady Dangle's Drawing Room, } - But wildly thought himself at home. } - Then on a sofa threw his length, - Thus to regain exhausted strength, - And grunted, groan'd and drew his breath, - As if it were the hour of death. - - Sir David Dangle, whom the gout - Had kept that night from going out, - Was sitting in all sick-man's quiet, - Nor dreaming of a scene of riot - When, waken'd into wild amaze, - He did on the strange vision gaze, - While the bold reprobate intrusion - Threw all the house into confusion. - In rush'd domestics one and all, - Who heard the bell's alarming call; - While stamping crutch and roaring voice - Encreas'd the Knight's awak'ning noise - That he might quick assistance stir - Against this unknown visiter. - But while the household struggled hard - To keep him still, and be his guard, - Till he thought fit to lay before 'em - The cause of all his indecorum; - My Lady came to set all right - And check the hurry of the night: - She then, to soothe his rude alarms - Clasp'd her dear Knight within her arms, - Those arms which, for full forty years, - As from tradition it appears, - Had sometimes strok'd his chin and coax'd him, - And now and then had soundly box'd him. - "It is," she said, "some heated rake, - Who has occasion'd the mistake. - But loose your hands, I do protest, - To be thus us'd, he's too well drest - For though his face I do not know } - He does some air of fashion show, } - Playing his pranks incognito." } - --"It may be so," the Knight replied, - And then he shook his head and sigh'd: - "I'm not a stranger to the game, - When I was young, I did the same." - --Beside Sir David, Madam sat: - To charm his flurry with her chat - Her tongue pour'd forth its ready store - And talk'd the busy evening o'er; - Their biscuits took and, nothing loth, - Moisten'd them well with cordial broth; - Thus, till bed call'd, enjoy'd their quaffing, - He with hoarse chuckle--she with laughing. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -THE PARTY BREAKING UP, AND QUAE GENUS BREAKING DOWN.] - - As he his innocence had vow'd, - Our Hero press'd his hands and bow'd, - Nay look'd, with humble, downcast eye, - The Mirror of Apology. - Besides, he well knew how to bribe - The service of the liv'ried tribe; - So, without fear of ill to come, - He was convey'd in safety home. - --With the next noon his morning came, - And serious thoughts began to claim - Attention to the Life he past, - And how much longer it might last: - For the hard blow he had receiv'd, - By the chair's fall, had so aggriev'd - The Pericranium's tend'rest part - That it requir'd a Surgeon's art, - Who, to relieve the threat'ning pains - Applied the leeches to his veins, - He then with blistering proceeded, - The strong Cathartic next succeeded, - With light debarr'd to either eye, - And undisturb'd tranquillity: - Such was the system to restore - His health to what it was before. - Thus bound to silence and confin'd - It was a period for the mind - To yield to those reflecting powers - Which flow from solitary hours. - - 'Tis said by one, no chattering dunce - That changes seldom come at once; - And to those changes we refer - Which work in human character. - Reason at once does not disown us, - Nor instant folly seize upon us; - It is by a progressive course - That habit sinks from bad to worse, - And thus the happier impulse moves - By which the character improves: - The struggle that controuls the will - From ill to good, from good to ill, - Is not a contest for the power - That lasts but through a transient hour. - Virtue's fine ardor does not yield - But after many a well-fought field;-- - Nor do the baser passions cool - Till they despair to overule, - By secret spell or Virtue's fire, - The glowing of the heart's desire. - Thus, as through pictur'd life we range, - We see the varying landscape change, - But, as the diff'rent scenes we view, - If we have hearts we feel them too: - And then, how charming is the sight - When Virtue rises to its height - And triumphs o'er the conquer'd foe - That flaps its baffled wing below. - What though such images as these - May look to Eccentricities - Beyond the reach of those whose claim - Is shelter'd by a borrow'd name: - Yet still our system may apply - The force of its philosophy - To ev'ry track of human life, - Where the heart feels conflicting strife; - In short, where 'tis the painful lot, - And in what bosom is it not, - To struggle in the certain feud - Between the evil and the good, - That in our mortal nature lies - With all its known propensities: - Nor shall we on our Hero trample - As an inadequate example. - He'll serve as well as brighter tools - To give an edge to moral rules, - And _Freeborn's_ frolics may prevail - To give a spirit to the tale - Which in its fashion and its feature - Bears, as we trust, the stamp of nature. - --Besides, it surely has appear'd, - He was at first in virtue rear'd, - Nor do we fear, however cross'd, - His Virtue has been wholly lost: - Nor will our kind and honest muse - The hope, nay the belief refuse, - That, after all his follies past, - Much good may still remain at last - Which might, with Reason's aid, at length, - Be felt in more than former strength. - How this may happen we shall see - In our progressive history. - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS turned out of a house which he mistakes for his own.] - - Thus he, for many a night and day, - In strict, prescriptive silence lay, - For he all talking was forbid - No friends must visit, if they did, - All Galen's efforts would be vain - For the re-settling of his brain; - And when acquaintance chanc'd to come - It must be said, "He's not at home:" - Nay, his kind friends, when it appear'd, - That e'en his life was rather fear'd, - And that his hospitable fare - Might quickly vanish into air: - Though as the knocker still was tied, - They just ask'd if he liv'd or died. - But other reasons soon prevail - That made his vain pretensions fail - To ask them now and then to dine, - And prove their welcome by his wine. - For when they left him others came, - More constant in their wish and aim; - Who, while the Doctor order'd pills, - Would call, perhaps, to leave their bills; - And sometimes in the way of trade - Might ask the favour to be paid. - These things, as he lay still in bed, - Would sometimes tease his shaken head, - And force him to consult his hoard, } - To know what hopes that might afford } - When he to health should be restor'd. } - --That time arriv'd and he was free - From offering another fee, - But then he found more clumsy hands - Ready to grasp enlarg'd demands. - --In all the playgames he had sought - He found, at last, as might be thought, - In worst of scrapes he now was left, - Our 'Squire, alas, was deep in debt, - And which was worse, of the amount, - He could not pay the full account: - Nor were his drooping spirits cheer'd - When ev'ry day a Dun appear'd. - There were no frolics now to charm - The mind from feeling the alarm, - At thought so painful to endure - Th' afflicting thought of being poor. - But though Discretion oft had fail'd him, - And Folly's Gim-crack schemes assail'd him - Though his whole conduct might not bear - The scrutinizing eye severe: - Yet honour was not dispossest - Of a snug corner in his breast, - Which there an influence did maintain, - And, call'd to speak, spoke not in vain; - For he refus'd, at once, to hear - What smiling Knaves pour'd in his ear, - To scrape the relics of his hoard, - Make a long skip and get abroad; - Seize the first favourable wind, - And laugh at those he left behind. - --The counsel given, was given in vain; - He met it with a just disdain, - Bore with mild humour each sly sneer, - And smil'd when Folly chose to jeer; - Resolv'd to pay to his last groat, - Though standing in his only coat. - --'Twas thus he thought in temper cool, - "I may be call'd vain, silly fool, - And something more I might deserve, - But I would dig or almost starve, - Rather than in that concert join, - Which sprightly vagabonds design." - --Suspicion may be sometimes led - To doubt the vows which, on the bed - Of pain and sickness, may be made, } - When, by a trait'rous world betray'd } - Hope's future prospects sink and fade. } - For when Contrition views the past, - Because the passing day's o'ercast - Yet does no more its place retain - When smiling hours return again, - 'Tis but an hypocritic art - To mock the world and cheat the heart. - But our sick Hero, as the verse - Will, with unvarnish'd truth, rehearse, - An eye of tearful sorrow threw } - O'er some past years' reproachful view, } - And trembling at the future too. } - Thus, of some awkward fears possess'd, - He held a council in his breast, - And felt the way to be pursued - Was now to do the best he could, - And call on Justice to receive - The only tribute he could give. - - Thus, at once, honest and discreet, - He call'd his Creditors to meet - To hear proposals which he thought - They would receive as just men ought: - Nay, fancied, when he told his tale, - That lib'ral notions would prevail; - Nor could his gen'rous mind foresee - The fruits of his integrity: - For when he walk'd into the room - He found th' invited guests were come, - Who soon began in hideous measure, - To play away their loud displeasure, - Not unlike _Andrews_ at a fair - Who to make gaping rustics stare, - Expand their lanky, lanthern jaws - That fire may issue from their maws. - One darted forth revengeful looks, - Another pointed to his books - Wherein a charge was never made, } - That did not honour to his trade; } - And curs'd th' accounts which were not paid, } - Nor fail'd to wish he could convey them, - We'll not say where, who did not pay them. - A _third_, as hard as he was able, - Struck his huge fist upon the table. - While, beastly names from many a tongue, - Around the room resounding rung. - As _Freeborn_ had not quite possest - The hope that he should be carest, - He rather look'd with down-cast eye, - To win by his humility, - And put on a repentant face - As suited to the awkward place: - Nay, his high spirits he prepar'd - And call'd discretion for their guard - In case, though it was not expected, - Decorum should be quite neglected:-- - But when the Butcher strok'd his sleeve, } - Brandish'd his steel and call'd him thief, } - Belching forth mutton, veal and beef; } - When touch'd by such a market sample - They join'd to follow his example; - When stead of praise for honest doing } - And the fair course he was pursuing } - They loos'd their banter on his ruin; } - His prudence then was thrown aside - From sense of irritated pride, - And, patient bearing quite exhausted, - He thus the angry circle roasted.-- - "You all in your abuse may shine, - But know--_Abuse will never coin_! - Remember you have had my trade, - For some few years, and always paid; - While for your charges you must own, - I let them pass, nor cut them down, - And Customers, such fools like me - Are Prizes in your Lottery. - Put but your loss and gain together, - I should deserve your favour, rather - Than this rude and unseemly treating, - As if I gain'd my bread by cheating. - You know, you set of thankless calves, - You are well paid if paid by halves; - And spite of knowing nods and blinking, - I have been told, and can't help thinking, - All that now may remain to pay - The claims which bring me here to-day, - A just Arithmetic would tell - Will pay your honours very well! - But I have done--nay, I shall burst - If I say more----so do your worst.----" - -[Illustration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_ - -QUAE GENUS & CREDITORS.] - - He threw himself into a chair, - While each at each began to stare; - When, from a corner of the room, - A milder voice appear'd to come, - And, without prefatory art, - Was heard opinions to impart - Which as he spoke them, did not fail - O'er the loud rancour to prevail. - - "Gem'men,-- - "I cannot but refuse - My honest vote to your abuse; - And had I thought it was your plan - Thus to foul-mouth a _Gentleman_, - (And such he is, I'll boldly say, - By all he has propos'd to-day) - I would have stay'd and minded home, - Nor to this boist'rous Meeting come! - You could not give a harder banging - To one whose deeds had call'd for hanging. - What I've to say there's no denying-- - Nor will I please you now by lying. - For no short time, you all can tell, - We each charg'd high and he paid well; - Nay, now that he is gone to pot - He gives us all that he has got, - And with a pittance is content - To take him to the Continent: - Nor by sly tricks does he deceive ye - But gives you all that he can give you; - And, if again of wealth possest, - I doubt not but he'll pay the rest; - Now he who does the best he can, - I'm certain he's a _Gentleman_. - For me, whate'er may be your will, - I'll take his terms and trust him still; - And my best judgement recommends - The same right conduct to my friends." - Much more the lib'ral tradesman said - And still continued to persuade - With arguments that bore the test - From that known power call'd Interest, - Which, by degrees, becalm'd the riot, - And clos'd the scene in gen'ral quiet. - Thus, grumb'ling o'er, with parting glass, - The settling hour was seen to pass, - And soon dismiss'd our _Freeborn_ home - To meditate on times to come, - _With the first pleasure man can know, - Of doing what he ought to do_. - - Whether it was his ready way, - As we know not, we cannot say-- - But as he saunter'd through a court, - A passage of no small resort, - Well known to Lawyer's daily tread, - As to the _King's-Bench Walks_ it led, - A Placard of no common size - Compell'd the gaze of passing eyes: - When, as he read, he saw it bore - The well-known name he whilom bore, - While there was forc'd upon his view - The _Rev'rend_ DOCTOR SYNTAX too; - Nay, as he thought, it seem'd to be - A Brief of his own History: - Nor was it sure an idle whim - To think that it belong'd to him. - The Advertisement did address, - In all the pomp of printing press, - Th' important loss which was sustain'd - And the reward that might be gain'd - By those who should the loss restore - To those who did th' event deplore. - Then o'er and o'er he read the paper - That set his spirits in a caper; - For when he trac'd the pedigree, - He whisper'd to himself--"'_Tis_ ME." - Nor do I from the hope refrain, } - Nor do I think I boast in vain,-- } - QUAE GENUS is _Himself again_!" } - - But here it may become the verse, - The Placard's purpose to rehearse, - - This ADVERTISEMENT courts regard - To full FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS reward. - - * * * * * - - "_Upwards of TWENTY YEARS ago, - Or more or less it may be so, - Some one had ventur'd to expose - In clean and decent swaddling clothes, - An INFANT, laid before the door - Mark'd number THREE in number FOUR, - Of Chambers which distinction claim, - And Paper Buildings is their name: - Now any one who can but give } - Assurance that He still doth live, } - The above reward will then receive. } - QUAE GENUS is the Foundling's name, - Which, if alive, he best can claim, - For now at least it is not known - That he can any other own. - The kind_ Protector _of his_ Birth } - _Was a Divine of highest worth-- } - Who held preferment in the North_-- } - _SYNTAX was his much-honour'd name, - Nor is he now unknown to Fame. - But time has long since laid his head - On his last low and silent bed; - And search has hitherto been vain, - The Foundling's present state to gain. - A Laundress now is still alive - Who can some information give, - And BETTY BROOM is the known name - Of the communicating Dame - To whose kind care deliver'd first, - The Babe was given to be nurs'd. - Th' exposure she can well display - As if it were but yesterday, - But further knowledge is requir'd - And what events may have conspir'd - To shape his Life--If he should live, - 'Tis what this paper asks to give. - Who has such tidings and will tell 'em, - With all due proofs, to Mr. VELLUM, - Or sent by Post to his abode, - Near_ Shoreditch Church _in_ Hackney Road, - _Will the remuneration prove - That's fully stated as above._" - - Again he read the paper o'er, - Resolv'd its purport to explore, - And strait to _Number_ THREE repairs - When hobbling down the ancient stairs, - He met the Matron whom he sought, - And told his story as he ought, - A rapid sketch--nor did it fail - To be an interesting Tale: - Which when she heard, against the wall - The broom she held was seen to fall, - And scarce her old arms could prevail - To bear the burthen of her pail. - Her glasses then she sought to place - On the _Proboscis_ of her face; - Not that a likeness she should see - 'Tween riper years and infancy. - But now her heart began to melt - At _Recollections_ that she felt, - And thus she wish'd to tell them o'er, - As she had often done before. - "What, though so many years are gone, - And you to man's estate are grown, - Since I, in all its infant charms, - Dandled the Foundling in my arms, - Were I but certain it was _you_, - Yes I would hug--and kiss you too." - --But though he vow'd and did exclaim - He was the very--very same; - And though he put forth ev'ry grace } - With which his words could gild his face, } - He could not gain a kind embrace; } - Though twenty-five don't often sue - To claim a kiss from sixty-two: - But some suspicions had possess'd - The avenues to _Betty's_ breast; - For she liv'd where her open ear - Was practis'd ev'ry day to hear - Of art array'd in fairest guise - And truth o'erthrown by artifice. - Thus what could the old Matron do? - She fear'd him false, and wish'd him true: - Then turn'd him round, but look'd aghast, - As at his back her eye she cast; - When she thus spoke, and heav'd a sigh, - "I hope it is not treachery! - Before that door the child lay sprawling, - And mov'd the Doctor with its squalling: - But, before Heaven I can swear, - It then was as a Cherub fair; - Strait as a little arrow he, - In perfect form and symmetry; - And from its neck unto its rump, - Believe me, he had no such hump - As that, though hid with every care, - Your injur'd form is seen to bear; - And cannot but appear to be - A natural deformity. - How this change came of course you know,-- - With the poor child it was not so;-- - Prepare its Hist'ry to explain, - Or you will visit here in vain. - --My good young man, strive not to cheat, - Nor think to profit by deceit: - You have with knowing folk to do, - Not to be foil'd by such as you. - I own you tell a moving tale, - But Facts alone will now prevail: - You will be sifted up and down - Till e'en your marrow-bones are known. - --I've not another word to say; - To _Master Vellum_ take your way, - You'll find him at his snug abode - Near _Shoreditch Church_, in _Hackney Road_: - For, when the infant first was left, - Of all parental care bereft, - The Bookseller and I, between us, - Had much to do with dear QUAE GENUS: - For to his shop I us'd to go - 'Twas then in _Paternoster Row_, - As he the money did supply - For the poor Foundling's nursery. - --O, if he finds your story true, } - It will, indeed, be well for you! } - I will then hug and kiss you too!" } - He took his leave--she gave a blessing - As good, perhaps, as her caressing. - - In haste, and on his great intent - To _Vellum_ He his footsteps bent; - Who had long since left off the trade - By which he had a fortune made: - But why we do the old Man see - A figure in this history, - Becomes a duty to explain, - Nor shall it be employ'd in vain: - And now, as brief as can be told, - We must the Mystery unfold; - And, since so many years are o'er, - Why it was not explain'd before. - Though he who length of life has seen, - Must have a cold observer been; - Whose languid or incurious eye - Has not the power to descry, - On what a chain of odds and ends - The course of Human Life depends. - - But now we quit the beaten road - And turn into an _Episode_, - Nor fear the track, though we shall draw - The picture of a _Man of Law_; - For we have seldom had to do - With one so gen'rous, just and true; - So he was thought by grateful fame, - And _Fairman_ was the good man's name. - If in that long-suspected trade - An honest fortune e'er was made - 'Twas that he could in Honour boast - As Justice always tax'd the cost. - 'Twas his to bid Contention cease - And make the Law a Friend to peace: - He strove to silence rising feud, - And all his practice led to good: - By mildest means it was his aim - To silence each opposing claim; - To take Injustice by the brow - And make it to right reason bow: - Nay, where in courts he must contend, - He saw no foe, and knew no friend. - He fail'd not by his utmost power - To wing with speed Law's ling'ring hour; - A busy foe to dull delay, - He spurr'd each process on its way; - Nor were his words, by skill made pliant, - Arrang'd to flatter any Client: - Whene'er he claim'd his well-earn'd Fee, - _Justice_ and _Law_ would answer--_Yea_. - And when Oppression knit its brow - And said, _proceed_,--He answer'd--_No_. - --When summon'd to the great _Assize_, - Held in the Court above the skies, - He will not be afraid to hear - The VERDICT which awaits him _there_. - --Such was the Man who soon would own - QUAE GENUS as his darling Son. - - - - -CANTO IX - - - The man of pure and simple heart - Through Life disdains a double part, - Nor does he need a mean device - His inward bosom to disguise: - Thus as he stands before mankind - His actions prove an honest mind. - But though 'gainst Reason's rigid rule - He may have play'd the early fool, - As wise men may, perhaps, have done - In the long race which they have run; - For Passion, which will act its part - In the best regulated heart, - Is, as we may too often see - Beset with Nature's frailty. - Yet Virtue in its course prevails; } - The better impulse seldom fails } - When smiling Conscience holds the scales: } - Nay, through the venial errors past, - Maintains its influence to the last, - And thus, with righteous hope endued, - Rests on _predominating good_. - - Something like this we hope to see - In our progressive History. - - One morn as worthy _Fairman_ lay - Courting his pillow's soft delay, - Enjoying, in his mind's fair view, - Good he had done, or meant to do; - A Letter came, as it appear'd, - Sign'd by a name, he'd never heard, - To beg he instant would attend - An old and long-forgotten friend, - Matter of import to unfold - Which could by her alone be told, - Whose trembling hand in Nature's spite - Had strove the wretched scrawl to write. - She wish'd into his ear to pour - The tidings of a dying hour, - Which she was anxious to impart - To the recesses of his heart. - This Summons the good man obey'd - And found upon, a sick-bed laid, - A female form, whose languid eye - Seem'd to look bright when he drew nigh. - --"Listen," she said, "I humbly pray, - Though short the time, I've much to say. - My features now no longer bear - The figure when you thought them fair: - MARIA was my borrow'd name } - When passion shook my early claim } - To woman's glory, that chaste fame } - Which when once lost, no power should give, - But to repent--the wish to live. - A mother's lab'ring pangs I knew, - And the child ow'd its life to you. - Though ever gen'rous, just and kind - Here doubt perplex'd your noble mind, - And had dispos'd you to believe - That I was false, and could deceive: - But now, if solemn oaths can prove, - And if my dying words can move, - Should he be living, I'll make known - The Babe I bore to be _your own_. - Scarce was it born, but 'twas my care - That you a parent's part should bear. - My quiv'ring hands then wrapp'd it o'er, } - I trembling plac'd it on the floor } - And gave a signal at the door: } - When I, my eyes bedimm'd with tears, - And flurried by alarming fears, - In a dark night mistook the stair - And left it to a stranger's care. - Such was my error, as I thought - The child was harbour'd where it ought; - And, O my friend, how well I knew - The helpless would be safe with YOU:-- - And when, by secret means, I heard - It was receiv'd and would be rear'd, - I doubted not you did prepare - The blessings of a parent's care. - --I was content, and join'd the train - Of warring men who cross'd the main; - And since, for twenty years or more, - I've follow'd Camps on India's shore; - But when, how chang'd by years of pain, - I saw my native land again, - I look'd, how vainly, for the joy - Of seeing my deserted Boy! - Think how my disappointment grew, } - When, from a strict research, I knew } - He never had been known to you! } - But, favour'd by the will of Heaven, - To Mercy's hand he has been given; - Though of his first or latter years - No record of him yet appears: - At least, beyond the earliest day - As in his cot the Infant lay, - And when his smiling place of rest - Was on a fondling nurse's breast! - I the child's story, but in vain, - Have strove with anxious heart to gain; - For she who gave him milk still lives - And tells all that her mem'ry gives. - But of your child what is become, - Whether he has a house or home, - Whether he sails the ocean o'er } - Or wanders on some desert shore, } - Whether he lives or breathes no more, } - If you've the heart that once I knew - May shortly be made known to you: - For, with the means which you possess, - He may be found your age to bless. - I only ask of Heaven to live - To see him your embrace receive; - And, dare I hope the joy, to join - A mother's fond embrace with thine: - Then may my pilgrim wanderings cease, - And I, at length, shall die in peace! - --Thus I have my last duty done, - And may kind Heaven restore your Son!--" - --She spoke--the tale she did impart - Sunk deep into the good man's heart; - For, as he said, there did not live - To close his eyes one relative. - - He then in eager speech declar'd - No cost, no labour should be spar'd - The Boy to find, and should he be - What his fond eyes might wish to see, - His Father's name he soon would bear, - And of his fortune be the Heir. - --No time was lost--what could be done, - To give her ease and find her Son, - Was soon employ'd in ev'ry way - That public notice could display. - - The good man now the subject weigh'd, - Then call'd in VELLUM to his aid, - And did, with anxious wish commend - The office to his long-known friend, - To set afloat enquiry due - If what MARIA told were true; - Nor did he think of pains or cost - To find the stray-sheep that was lost. - "To you," he said, "I give the task, - The greatest favour I can ask, - To trace, if 'tis in any power, - The _Foundling_ from that favor'd hour - When DOCTOR SYNTAX first receiv'd - The child and all its wants reliev'd; - And you, at once, call'd in to share - The wishes of his guardian care. - Believe me that my high-wrought feeling, - Which you must see there's no concealing," - (For the tear glisten'd in his eye, - And his breast spoke the long-drawn sigh) - "Disdains at once all sordid sense - Which hesitates at recompence: - O what would I refuse to give - Should he be blest with worth and live! - Indulge my whims--nor let me know } - Or what you've done or what you do, } - Till you can answer--_Yea_ or _No_. } - Till your grave voice attests my claim - To bear a parent's tender name: - Nor let the claimant here be shown, - Till he is prov'd to be my own." - - VELLUM began by exercising - His well-known zeal in advertising; - Nay, did, from _Kent_, to the _Land's-End_, - QUAE GENUS and his birth extend, - And as the _King's Bench Walks_ had been - Of his first days the curious scene, - Within those environs were spread - The grand _Placards_ which he had read; - And did a forc'd attention call - To many a window, many a wall, - Whose tempting story to rehearse - Has wak'd an effort in our verse. - - QUAE GENUS' plain, consistent tale - Seem'd with old VELLUM to prevail; - And rather tallied with the view - Of what, in former times, he knew: - But, that same _Hump_ his shoulders bore, - And oft had been his foe before, - Forbad the Laundress to bestow - A favouring opinion now; - The want of which kept things aloof - From certain and substantial proof. - For though the Doctors in the North, } - Men of acknowledg'd skill and worth, } - Were ready to confirm on oath, } - That, 'twas disease which gave the blow - And bent the strait back to a bow; - Yet this same Hump of direful note - Still stuck in _Betty's_ doubtful throat, - For all that she would say or swear - Was, when the Child was in her care, - To the most, keen, observing eye, - His back bore no deformity; - And thus continued the suspense - From want of better evidence. - --_Vellum_ was not without a fear, - That, from the Gout's attack severe, - The anxious Father's self might die - Before truth clear'd the Mystery, - And had, from doubt reliev'd, made known - The Child as his begotten Son-- - Besides on his discovery bent, - To _Oxford_ when kind _Vellum_ went, - To seek his venerable Friend, - The well-known Rev'rend DOCTOR BEND, - Who would have set all matters right, - He died on the preceding night. - But still, as we pass on our way, - What changes mark life's transient day; - The sun-beams gild the o'erhanging cloud, - The mists the glitt'ring rays enshroud; - And, while from storms of beating rain } - We strive some shelter to obtain, } - The scene is chang'd--'tis bright again. } - Hence 'tis we share th' uncertain hour - Of joys that smile, of cares that lour. - - Thus, while Enquiry seem'd to wear - The very aspect of Despair, - A sudden instantaneous thought - Was to OLD BETTY'S mem'ry brought, - That a _Ripe_ STRAWBERRY, blushing red, - As it grew on its verdant bed, - By Nature's whimsey, was impress'd - Not on the cheek or on the breast - But _Betty_ said, "'Tis I know where, } - And could I once but see it there, } - On Bible Book, ay, I would swear, } - The young man is the child who left, - And, of a mother's care bereft, - Was by the Doctor given to me - To nurse his tender Infancy." - --QUAE GENUS now was call'd to tell - What he knew of this secret spell. - When he without delay declar'd - What of the mark he oft had heard - By gamesome play-fellows at school - When he was bathing in the pool; - And though he sometimes strove to feel it, - Its strange position did conceal it - From his own eyes, though, as a joke, - It often did a laugh provoke. - Then did he to her wish display, - What the verse hides from open day; - But _Betty Broom_ was not so shy } - To turn away her curious eye } - From this same blushing STRAWBERRY. } - Nay, when she saw the mark, she swore - She oft had kiss'd it o'er and o'er; - And, were he not to manhood grown, - She'd do what she so oft had done. - O she exclaim'd with tears of joy, - QUAE GENUS is the very boy - Whom their so anxious wishes sought - And was to full discovery brought. - --Nor was this all, at the strange show - Old VELLUM wip'd his moisten'd brow, - And said, with an uplifted eye, - "Here ends this curious Mystery." - When he again, the Symbol saw - In its right place without a flaw, - At once he did remember well, - SYNTAX would smiling oft foretell, - This mark might to _the Foundling_ show - To whom he did existence owe. - "'Tis all fulfill'd, the proof is shewn,-- - The FATHER may embrace _his Son_!" - - As _Vellum_, thought another hour - Should not delay that darling power - He to his friend's impatient ear - In all due substance did declare - The Hist'ry of QUAE GENUS past, - With all the proofs from first to last, - As on his own conviction shone - That he was truly _Fairman's_ Son: - When the good man, with brighten'd eye, - And the heart's tend'rest sympathy, - As he look'd upwards thus express'd - The joy that revell'd in his breast. - "From all I've heard and you have shown - With zeal and friendship rarely known, - To the fond truth I'm reconcil'd - That poor QUAE GENUS is my Child, - Confirm'd by all his Mother said, - As I sat by her dying bed; - And ere another sun shall shine, - I'll prove, at least, I think him mine, - By giving him a rightful claim - To share my fortune and my name. - You then, my friend, may bring him here, - 'Tis a strange task, but do not fear, - At this so unexpected hour, - My firmness will relax its power,-- - Though I'm beneath a certain course - Of medicine, of promis'd force - On which I have a firm reliance - To bid the tort'ring Gout defiance, - My vig'rous spirits will sustain - The shock of joy as well as pain." - --_Vellum_, with pleasure now withdrew - To shape the approaching Interview,-- - And suit QUAE GENUS to a change: - So unexpected and so strange; - But how can we relate the scene - That is about to intervene - Where we shall see in different parts - The weeping eyes, the melting hearts, - Affection's warm and yielding sense - And looks of cold indifference, - While Reason yields, with ample fee, - To be the dupe of Quackery. - This to describe with all the rest - The verse, we trust, will do its best; - But if the labour it refuses - We'll scout OLD POLL and his NINE MUSES, - And leave our JOHN TROT lines to tell - The Story and, we hope, as well. - - An _Empiric_ had hither bent - His journey from the Continent, - Who boasted, by his Chymic skill, - Disease was subject to his will; - And that his cunning had found out - A _Panacea_ for the _Gout_. - It seems this wonderful receipt - Form'd a warm-bath for legs and feet; - And ev'ry day, for a full hour, - The period might be less or more, - The Patient sat, but ill at ease - His legs immers'd up to his knees, - Each in a pail just plac'd before him - Fill'd with a fluid to restore him. - _Fairman_, who dup'd by Quack'ry's lures, - Had often sought for promis'd cures - Thought it would be no harm to try - The efforts of this Remedy. - --But _Vellum_ eager to make known - This curious pair as SIRE and SON. - Did not consult his better reason - Respecting the right place and season, - But a most heedless moment sought - When he QUAE GENUS trembling brought, - While the Old Man up to his knees - Was bathing for expected ease, - And thought of nothing but the ails - He hop'd to drown within the pails. - Then _Vellum_ said, my Duty's done - Behold, my friend and see your Son! - QUAE GENUS, kneeling on the floor, - Began a blessing to implore! - The good man said, I ask of Heaven - That its protection may be given - To this my long-lost, darling Boy - Of coming time my only joy! - 'Twas then he press'd the frizzled hair - And sunk back senseless in his chair. - The good old _Bookseller_ amaz'd - On the strange, motley picture gaz'd, - And _Betty Broom_ began to vow - "'Twere pity he should die just now." - While the staid Cook, whose ev'ry feature - Scarce knew a change from sober nature, - Was to expression ne'er beguil'd, - Who never wept nor ever smil'd - Then calmly said, but said no more, - "I never saw him so before:"-- - While, "look! behold! see he revives!" - QUAE GENUS cried--"my Father lives!" - - Wonder and Gratitude and Fainting - Were there combin'd--what could be wanting - To make the melting scene complete, - But coffin and a winding-sheet? - Nor were those symbols long to seek, - For, in a short and happy week, - Which was in warm affection past, - The exulting Father breath'd his last. - -[Illustration: QUAE GENUS DISCOVERS HIS FATHER.] - - Here then we make a pause to ask - How Fortune will achieve its task, - And, to indulge the curious view, - What track the Fancy must pursue, - From such a change in the affairs - Of the poor Foundling on the stairs. - Whether the passions active strife - Will check repose and trouble life; - Whether the inmate of his breast - Will lead to turbulence or rest, - Make him repose beneath the shade - At ease and indolently laid; - Whether the mind will yield to pleasure - In that seducing form and measure, - Which strews temptations ev'ry hour - And gold commands with ready power: - --But other notions we had brought - The proofs of our prophetic thought; - That, not without a gleam of pride, - He would chuse Reason for his guide. - When with a plenteous income arm'd - And hospitable bosom warm'd, - He from the gay world would retire - And turn into a Country 'Squire; - Then, with those charms which heighten life, - And blossom in a pleasing wife, - Enjoy that calm and tranquil state } - That does on Independence wait, } - Nor spurns the low, nor courts the great: } - And though not from those frailties free - The Lot of man's infirmity, - He might pass on to rev'rend age, - And die a Christian and a sage. - --Thus we our Hero's picture drew - As hope inspir'd, for future view, - Such as the coming years might see, - Such as we hop'd that he would be. - But soon appear'd a threat'ning storm - That did the expected scene deform, - And many a cloud began to lour - That veils the intellectual hour, - Though gleams of light would oft controul - The darksome chaos of the soul: - And a bright, instantaneous ray - Would gild a cloud and chear the day; - And now and then a serious thought - Was to its proper object brought. - Whene'er, oppress'd with sudden gloom, - In solemn steps he pac'd the room; - Then, his looks beaming with content, - He turn'd to Joy and Merriment, - And Reason, for a wav'ring hour, - Would seem to re-assume its power. - Yet social habits he disclaim'd, - Wept when he prais'd, laugh'd when he blam'd, - And, sometimes frowning, would declare - Life was not worth the liver's care. - --Whether it was the sudden change, - So unexpected and so strange, - Or the accession large of wealth - Broke in upon his reason's health, - Or the concussion of his brain } - Which the night's frolic did sustain, } - Our science knows not to explain. } - Old _Betty_ thought it must be Love, - Which she would undertake to prove, - As in his freaks that seem'd like folly - He sung and danc'd and talk'd of _Molly_, - And frequently was seen to scrawl - Figures in chalk upon the wall, - Then fancy that he scatter'd flowers - And sat in gay and fragrant bowers. - --Whate'er the hidden cause might be, } - No sage experience could foresee } - A cure for his Infirmity. } - He now grew worse from day to day, - And Nature hasten'd to decay: - It soon was seen, no art could save - QUAE GENUS from an early grave. - --Old _Vellum_ did not quit his care - And _Betty Broom_ was always there. - The FOUNDLING'S Life she had attended, - As it began, and as it ended: - His earliest days her cares embrac'd, - Her aged eyes wept o'er his last: - They did his dying hour behold! - --Reader Farewell,----The Story's told! - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED BY - MORRISON AND GIBB LIMITED, - EDINBURGH - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The History of Johnny Quae Genus, by William Combe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF JOHNNY QUAE GENUS *** - -***** This file should be named 42299.txt or 42299.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/2/9/42299/ - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Mary Akers and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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