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 Bobbin 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LONDON; 
 
 OB, THE 
 
 TRIUMPH of QUACKERY.
 
 7;
 
 LONDON; 
 
 OR THE 
 
 TRIUMPH of QUACKERY. 
 
 Satirical i9oem* 
 
 BY 
 TIM. BOBBIN, the Younger. 
 
 LA DESTREZZA PIU SCALTRA E OPRARE IN MODO 
 ch' ALTEI SE STESSO INOANNI. 
 
 METASTASIO. ADKIANO. ATTO % SC. 1. 
 
 3LotiDon 
 
 PRINTED FOR C. CHAPPLE, G6, PALL MALL, 
 181S
 
 -rom tlie Press of VV. Oxberry &. co. 
 8. White-hart-yard.
 
 
 atitiresi^ from tie author. 
 
 COMPRISING 
 
 Advertisement, Preface and Dedication. 
 
 OF all the situations in which a man voluntarily 
 places himself, few I imagine are more calculated to 
 excite anxiety and embarrassment than his first ap- 
 pearance before the public, as an Actor, an Orator, 
 or an Author ; nay I have known many persons who 
 even preferred fighting, and who could march up to 
 the muzzle of a cannon in the iTeld with much great- 
 er composure than they could assume either of the 
 above capacities. 
 
 Of the three positions however I believe that of 
 the debutant in authorship to be the most appalhng, 
 as it is generally expected that he shall give some 
 
 a 3 
 
 8Ga7iJ0
 
 VI ADDRESS. 
 
 account, not only of himself, but also of the motives 
 
 which have induced him to become a Candidate for 
 popular favour ; and yet I verily believe that no 
 
 man ever possessed the genius to conceive a witty 
 idea, and the skill to imbody it into a metrical shape 
 without immediately considering himself a bantling 
 of Apollo, and (at least, secretly) wishing that the 
 world should participate in the exquisite gratifica- 
 tion which a long list of intimates (on the authority 
 of their jjolite and reiterated assertions^ had already 
 experienced from the perusal of his occasional sal- 
 hes ; and hence it is that so many poetasters daily 
 obtrude their early efforts on the community, back- 
 ed by the excuse that they are absolutely urged to 
 the proceeding by the importunate solicitations of 
 their friends. 
 
 For my own part I will not condescend to palli- 
 ate my conduct by any such subterfuge, nor will I 
 presume to aver that I have a jot less vanity than 
 my fellow members of frail humanity, but will
 
 ADDRESS* Vll 
 
 frankly avow that I give publicity to the following 
 effusions with an impression that they are at least, 
 equal in merit to some others which I have seen ia 
 print, and with a view to obtain (from their recep- 
 tion) for my future guidance, a more perfect crite- 
 rion than either my own opinion or those of my fa- 
 miliar associates, to not one of whom the manuscript 
 has been submitted. 
 
 I was under the necessity of shifting for myself 
 at an early age, previous to which however I had 
 the fortune to receive what is generally called a good, 
 plain education, somewhat resembling the solid 
 breakfast which a man of business takes when he is 
 about to enter upon sonic bustling occupation for 
 the residue of the day ; and the remainder of my 
 literary attainments have been like the desultory 
 refreshment which the aforesaid industrious wight, 
 is enabled to procure during such transient inter- 
 vals as he can snatch from his employment ; being 
 
 a 4
 
 Vlll ADDRESS. 
 
 just sufficient to allay the cravings of nature, but 
 still leaving so much appetite as enables him to eat 
 a hearty meal as soon as he can obtain provisions 
 and leisure. 
 
 From the above statement it will naturally be in- 
 ferred that my pursuits in life have not been of such 
 a nature as to authorize the least probability that I 
 should 
 
 *' Lift up my head 'midst the rhyme weaving throng." 
 
 Nor indeed was I conscious of possessing sufficient 
 rhythmical talent to compose a single couplet until 
 the opinion was elicited by the following occur- 
 ence. 
 
 In order however to render the recital intelligible 
 to the reader, it will be requisite to inform him in 
 the first place that amongst the companions of my 
 recreations, I was remarked for peculiar agility, in- 
 somuch that not any of them could equal me in
 
 ADDRESS. IX 
 
 running, jumping, and other gymnastic exercises ; 
 and secondly that in our moments of hilarity and 
 festivity, I used not unfrequently to indulge in a 
 propensity for punning, which, although it is 
 usually denominated the lowest species of wit, has 
 been patronized by Beaux esprits of the very high- 
 est class ; and 1 therefore confidently cherish an 
 opinion that the illiberal sentiment which I have re- 
 peatedly heard quoted as an adage, viz. " A man 
 who would make a pun would pick a pocket," had 
 not its origin in profound judgment and experience 
 whence aphorisms ought always to be derived, but 
 that it was erected into an hypothesis by certain 
 misanthropic mortals, who suppose that wisdom 
 consists in gravity, and who conclude that if a 
 man evinces a vivacity of imagination, his sprightli- 
 ness must of necessity extend to his finger ends. 
 
 I trust the reader will })ardon the digression into 
 which I have been led in order to shield myself 
 
 a 5
 
 ADDRESS. 
 
 from the imputation of being addicted to pilfering, 
 which I cannot admit in any grosser sense than 
 what may be deduced from my present undertaking ; 
 for I candidly acknowledge that my principal incen- 
 tive in publishing this trifle, is the hope of trans- 
 ferring a few pounds from the purses of the readers 
 into my own, which is unfortunately at this mo- 
 ment in a most poetical plight. But to return 
 
 From some of the persons com|X)sing the before 
 mentioned fraternity {in which I passed some of 
 the happiest moments of my lifc^) I have heard 
 specimens of Bon Mot, and Rapartee, which were 
 well worthy of being preserved, yet some there 
 were who uniformly refused to allow them the 
 merit of originality, and as constantly attributed 
 them to that almost inexhaustible fund of readi/ 
 made witticisms Joe 3Iillcr. 
 
 I do not hesitate to admit that J had less reason 
 to complain of their want of liberality in tliis res-
 
 ADDRESS. XI 
 
 pect than many of my friends, for I certainly did 
 sometimes let fly a ./oe,vvhcn my memory happened 
 to stumble upon one which was peculiarly good, 
 and which I deemed siiffidently old to he netv to 
 nine tenths of the company. 
 
 I think it will be generally found amongst young 
 men that from the commencement of their acquain- 
 tance their advances towards familiarity are marked 
 by a progressive diminution of ceremony, not only 
 in the tenor of their conduct towards each other, 
 but also in their style of reciprocal address ; the 
 first step of which is to relinquish the sir, and the 
 Mr., the second to use the plain surname, the 
 third to exchange it for the Christian name, until at 
 length even f/tat by increasing intimacy dwindles 
 into its most diminutive abbreviature. 
 
 Thus it was in the party to which I alluded, so 
 that Tom, Hal, Ned, Will, <J^c. were the terms
 
 Xll ADDRESS. 
 
 which we invariably adopted in our ordinary inter- 
 course. 
 
 This was a circumstance particularly gratifying 
 to myself, for (although it may by some be esteem- 
 ed the acme of ill humour to quarrel with one's 
 own Christian name,) I confess I have not any af- 
 fection for mine in its original form. The name of 
 Timothy sounds so grave, so patriarchal, so inimi- 
 cal to every thing like jocularity, that I never could 
 endure to see or hear it, in full. Whereas there is 
 something so airy, so fanciful, so Jocose in the little 
 monosyllabic appellation Tim (which when pro- 
 nounced trippingli/ might almost be mistaken for 
 the first note of a jig) that in imitation of my face- 
 tious ancestor (who was probably actuated by a 
 similar inducement) as well as from its being en- 
 deared to me by many pleasing recollections, I em- 
 ploy my favourite abridgement, in my habitual sig- 
 nature.
 
 ADDRESS. XUi 
 
 In our coterie, Will was the only individual who 
 was so far known to the literary world as to have 
 encountered the ordeal of public criticism, and he 
 had suffered so little from its terrific fangs that the 
 moment I read his verses 
 
 '' The demon of rhyme at my mind began nibbling 
 '* And ne'er let me rest 'till he set me a scribbling." 
 
 In yielding at length to his incessant temptation, 
 I did not lose sight of an axiom which I had fre- 
 quently heard quoted, that " Fiction is the soul of 
 Poetry" but resolved to stamp the firstling of my 
 muse with that proverbial distinction, and accord- 
 ingly began by satirizing what I admired, namely 
 the production of my friend. 
 
 However ill qualified I might be for such a task, 
 I at least possessed an advantage over many critics 
 of greater notoriety, for I had perused the work 
 which was the subject of my censure.
 
 Xll ADDRESS. 
 
 By some untoward accident, my innocent squib 
 (not one spark of which I ever intended should ex- 
 trude beyond the Hmits of my own portfoho) falHng 
 under the eye of one of the members of our httle cir- 
 cle, he was so kind as to communicate its contents to 
 our mutual crony, who, indignant at being attacked 
 by a novice, retorted with considerable acrimony in 
 the following terms. 
 
 ^tU to Sbtnu 
 
 " Dear Tim I'm astonish'd that you who excel 
 " hi writing so badly and jumping so well, 
 *' Your talent mistaking should seize pen and ink, 
 " And forcing Dame Nature, endeavour to think. 
 " So light are your heels, and so heavy your head, 
 ** That the first seem mercurial, the latter dull lead ; 
 " Be varn'd by a friend and conforming again 
 " To your mountebank genius relinquish your pen." 
 
 Although I felt a degree of conscious inability to 
 wield the weapon which I had so incautiously as- 
 siiuicd, I could not with propriety recede from the
 
 ADDRESS. XY 
 
 coirtest, and therefore determined to try a few pas- 
 sades, consoling myself with the reflection that if I 
 were beaten by such an antagonist my defeat would 
 not be at all derogatory, and if I conquered, the vic- 
 tory would be proportionately great. Under this im- 
 pression I rejoined and to it we went parry and 
 thrust. 
 
 %im to (Milt 
 
 No wonder friend Will, such antipathy feels, 
 To my saturnine head and mercurial heels, 
 Being perfectly conscious (the fortunate elf) 
 They are faults he can ne'er be accused of himself; 
 His ponderous heels by dull pcgasus dreaded. 
 And none will deny that he's very liglit headed. 
 As equally both Ttij/ extremes he decries. 
 His preference 'twould seem in tJie medimn lies. 
 But 'twixt heels and caput mi/ medmm I guess 
 He would not be delighted to kiss or caress.
 
 XVI ADDRESS. 
 
 m. to 2D, 
 
 I meant t'other day (tho' I hear it Is said, 
 That 1 flatter'd your heels to the cost of your head) 
 To give you due merit and not to traduce, 
 Your prototype Hermes shall stand my excuse. 
 
 Like you on earth, he cracks above. 
 His borrowed jokes to thund'ring Jove, 
 
 Wlien e'er his worship nods ; 
 Like you the wag has feather'd heels. 
 And is (tho' oft like you he steals) 
 
 Joe Miller to the Gods. 
 
 %. to m. 
 
 I've found the spur which Will provokes 
 To rail against my borrow'd jokes. 
 
 Good cause he has to feel it ; 
 To him Dame Nature, as I live. 
 Has neither humour deign' d to give, 
 
 Nor even wit to steal it.
 
 ADDRESS. XVll 
 
 U to %, 
 
 I never will believe that Tim, 
 
 From Miller steals each joke and whim. 
 
 But if it be the case, 
 
 He, that the theft may rest unknown. 
 
 Retails them with so bad a grace 
 
 That they still seem his own. 
 
 ST. to Wl, 
 
 The world allows my good friend Miller, 
 
 To be of wit the firmest pillar. 
 
 And sorrow's direst foe ; 
 
 Hence when a brilliant jest we meet, 
 
 However novel the conceit, 
 
 'Tis oft times call'd a Joe. 
 
 Thus would my censor soar to fame. 
 
 And like old Miller stamp his name, 
 
 But let him strive his fill ; 
 
 To honour him no future song 
 
 To which wit, fire and grace belong, 
 
 Shall e'er be call'd a miL 
 
 B
 
 XVIU ADDRESS. 
 
 At this juncture, a circumstance occurred to pre- 
 vent further ink-shed between us, and, although it 
 is an incontrovertible fact, that the pen, when 
 pointed and directed by the hand of rage, and dip- 
 ped in the gall of rancour, possesses the power of 
 stabbing even more deeply and immedicably than a 
 poisoned dagger, yet as arms so prepared were utter- 
 ly unknown to us, our conflict had not been very 
 sanguinary, nor had cither combatant received any 
 material wound. Our controversy rather resembled 
 fencing with foils or sparring with gloves, where, 
 notwithstanding that the friendly disposition of the 
 opponents, and the muffled state of the weapons, 
 preclude the danger of serious injury, it sometimes 
 occurs, that in the eft'ervesccnce of competition a 
 m.ore forcible blow is struck than is either intended 
 by the one })arty, or perfectly consistent with the 
 comfort and convenience of the other. 
 
 To pursue my metaphor, it is not unusual, with 
 that unaccountable member of community, the pro-
 
 ADDRESS. XIX 
 
 fessed duellist (when he meets with a young man, 
 whose acquaintdiice he wishes to cultivate) to insult 
 and challenge the object of his predilection, and 
 accordincr to the degree of courage which the lad 
 evinces in the quarrel, to impart or withhold the 
 honour of his friendship ; and thus it proved in our 
 literary affray, for when business of importance im- 
 posed upon me the necessity of quitting the scenes 
 and the society, which had afforded me so much 
 pleasure, my friend Will, in taking leave of me, 
 shook me cordially by the hand, assured me that he 
 had only engaged in the encounter in order to draw 
 me forth, and declared himself convinced that in 
 the event of my ever meeting with a subject which 
 should incite me to the attempt, there was a possi- 
 bility of my producing something fit for the eye of 
 the world. Such an assertion, from a man, for whose 
 opinion in such matters I entertained the highest 
 respect, was too flattering to be disrigardcd, and I 
 have accordingly presumed upon it in printing the 
 
 ji 'I
 
 XX ADDRESS. 
 
 subsequent essay. Thus much for my motives and 
 my pretensions, and now for a more important 
 requisite. 
 
 When a youth first enters a numerous assembly, 
 whether it be a nobleman's levee, a city feast, or a 
 Sunday ordinary at Highgate, he is naturally in- 
 duced to look around with great solicitude, in order 
 that he may discover if the party contains any per- 
 son to whom he is personally known ; and if he is 
 so fortunate as to find at the first a Man of Rank, 
 at the second a 3Iau of wealth, or at the third a 
 Man of ordinari/ habits, alias a constant visitor, 
 with whom he can claim an intimacy, it is an im- 
 mediate passport to a favourable reception from the 
 rest of the company. 
 
 The writer, who ventures to launch his first lite- 
 rary bark on the fickle ocean of public opinion, is 
 precisely in a similar predicament, and by the same 
 rule, generally selects from the throng to wliose 
 candour he is about to appeal, the most important
 
 ADDRESS. XXI 
 
 personage in the catalogue of his acquaintance ; 
 dubs him his Mecienas and obtains his 'permission 
 to blazon his name, virtues and erudition in a 
 flourishing dedication, as a sort of passe par tout 
 whereby to arrive at that Modern Philosopher's 
 stone fashionable notoriety. 
 
 Now, although I am almost as staunch an advo- 
 cate for old customs, as Crockery himself, and most 
 cordially join with him in his deprecation of many 
 recent innovations, yet I must take the liberty to 
 deviate from the customary routine in this particu- 
 lar ; and accordingly, in order that I may neither 
 lavish acknowledgements on those to whom \ am un- 
 der no obligation, nor be accused of exhibiting a 
 want of gratitude to my real patrons and friends ; 
 
 To each and every person, gentle or simple, who 
 may become the purchaser of a copy of this work, 
 it i.> respectfully ins<Tibed bv his or tier 
 Obliged and Obedient Servant, 
 
 IWK ALTllOK.
 
 introlruction. 
 
 WHEN thirst for fame (or drink) impels the rhymist, 
 
 His freaks of fancy to commit to paper, 
 
 Altho* his works be none of the sublimest, 
 
 But merely fit for wrapping plums and figs. 
 
 Or lining trunks, or curling ladies wigs, 
 
 Nor can illumine aught except a taper ; 
 Custom demands as prelude to his strains, 
 
 (And her imperious law who dares refuse,) 
 That lie, to aid his shallow labo'rlng brains. 
 Shall, like a Pagan on his bended knees, 
 Acknowledge niythologic Deities, 
 And crave some inspiration from the Muse. 
 
 Therefore, to win 
 Her approbation, 
 Here 1 begin 
 My Invocation. 
 
 B 4
 
 XXlV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Celestial maid, from Jove's imperial sky. 
 Prostrate behold your humblest votary j 
 Deign but to aid me in my infant lay, 
 ** And your petitioner shall ever pray." 
 
 And yet, methinks 'tis stupid to entreat. 
 For tho' the Muses once were wond'rous busy, 
 Yet now, like paupers in each London street. 
 One half of them in idleness must lurk. 
 From being (like terrestrials) out of work. 
 And will be glad to earn an honest tizzy. 
 
 Still happy they, tho' oft without a job, 
 Thanks to their potent father and protector ; 
 Them of their food no mortal e'er can rob j 
 Their senators pass no Ambrosia bill. 
 To cause starvation on Parnassus' hill. 
 Nor levy tax to raise the price of nectar.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 Else hard would be their lot, for now o'days 
 Our poetasters scorn their aid and flout 'era. 
 And many a one aspires to claim the bays 
 Whose rhymes, like stockings, lace, and velveteens, 
 (Alike dead stocks, filling whole irt&gazines,) 
 Are woven by machinery without 'em. 
 
 Yet let me not injuriously declare. 
 
 That all our moderns are not worth a ducat; 
 
 That all their labo'rs are beneath our care ; 
 
 That not a man deserves to have his name 
 
 Engraven on the Mnstcr-ltoU of fame. 
 
 Since Shakspeare, Pope, and Milton kick'd the bucket. 
 
 No, tho' the heaven-born fire has ceased to glow, 
 With all the brilliancy of days of yore, 
 Still tl)cre are pens from v;hich sweet numbers flow ; 
 Still soi;:-; exist in whicji the flame burns briclit, 
 Bards in whose names the Mnses take delii^ht, 
 Ji^xempli crratia J^yion, Scott, and Monre.
 
 XXVi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Now think not reader (the' a rhyming fit 
 Spite of myself has set my pen in motion) 
 That /pretend to genius or to wit; 
 Or that I vainly cherish fond illusions. 
 That you will deignto smile at my effusions, 
 Upon my soul, my friend, I've no such notion. 
 
 Their insignificance shall be their shield 
 
 To guard them from the lash of stern reviewers 
 
 I send them forth " unhousel'd nnanneal'd," 
 
 Nor can their fate my expectation balk. 
 
 For if they fail to fill the common talk, 
 
 E'en let them help to fill the common sewers. 
 
 And should they thus to doom oblivious float, 
 Mine may associate with the proudest names, 
 The best and wisest works that man e'er wrote. 
 With tills distinction, fall like my poor rhyme ; 
 Those swim 'till lost upon the stream of time, 
 And this 'till lost upon the stream of Thames.
 
 INDRODUCTION. XXVli 
 
 'Ere this perhaps the reader in a pet, 
 
 Has shut my book and thrown it on the table, 
 
 Or if he condescends to hold it yet, 
 
 Whither 'he cries) does all this jargon tend? 
 
 When will this cursed introduction end ? 
 
 Are we to have no tale, no joke, no fable ? 
 
 Methinks I see him, like a hungry guest. 
 Impatient whilst his host their meal deferring, 
 Labours to give his food a higher zest. 
 By whining forth a Presbyterian grace. 
 Dull as his tone and longer than his face. 
 To bless his solitary pickled herring. 
 
 I wish the simile were not so apt. 
 For since my grace is drawn to a conclusion, 
 He'll wish my muse the dinner to adapt ; 
 Yet, if a single herring would content liini, 
 How slic that single herring sliall present him, 
 1 fear poor soul will cause her some confusion.
 
 XXVm INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Nay should she e'en produce the frugal dish, 
 I fear he would not deem it free from fault ; 
 For tho' the sense may feed on common fish ; 
 Yet when the mental palate we would tickle, 
 Rhyme-Jisb requires a highly season'd pickle, 
 Shrewd intellectual spice and attic salt. 
 
 If then her thrifty larder's scanty hoard 
 Affords her guest no savory food to munch ; 
 He may go hanquet at a richer board. 
 But as late hours befit the grand repast. 
 Lest he should suffer by too long a fast. 
 My essay may suffice him for a lunch. 
 
 ^^^er-r
 
 THE 
 
 TRIU3IPI1 of QUJCKERY, 
 
 I. 
 
 LONDON, full many a rhyming wight 
 
 Hath sung thy praise with all his might, 
 
 Setting all competition at defiance; 
 
 Hath hunted through each Dictionary, 
 
 Of eulogy the terms to vary. 
 
 Hath call'd thee wisdom's soil ! The seat of science ! 
 
 The kind protectress of each sister art ! 
 
 The school for truth and purity of heart ! 
 
 The mart of talent ! erudition's focus! 
 
 The Heaven-elected spot ordain'd to be 
 
 The world's sensorium ! ! ! 
 
 All these thou may'st have I/een, I will allow, 
 
 ]iut I \\ ill sing thee as I find the now, 
 
 Thou perihelium of Hocus-pocus! 
 
 Tiiou land of humbug ! and of QUACKERY, 
 
 I'hdu grand emporium ! ! !
 
 30 TRIUMPH 
 
 II. 
 
 Time was when smatterers in physic. 
 For curing gout, and stone, and phthisic, 
 Appear'd to exercise a right exclusive. 
 To print the hyperbolic puff, 
 And such bombastic fulsome stuffy 
 And vend their noxious drugs by arts delusive. 
 Bawl'd with stentorian lungs and brazen faces 
 Their med'cine's virtues in our market places, 
 'Till matching at the bait the simple crowd 
 Press'd with devouring ears and eager eyes 
 Around their Rostrums. 
 To grasp the sovereign panacea willing, 
 Ransack'd their pockets for their utmost shilling, 
 Thinking the men with wond'rous skill endow'd, 
 And fondly credulous gulp'd all their lies, 
 And all their nostrums.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 31 
 
 III. 
 
 By means like these their patent potions, 
 
 Pills, plaistcrs, powders, syrups, lotions. 
 
 Tinctures for carrot whiskers, Indian oil, 
 
 Essences, Dentrifices, salves 
 
 To heal youtho' you're cut in halves, 
 
 Cosmetic washes. Time's effects to foil. 
 
 Balsamic drops, and many a cordial balm, 
 
 All maladies of human life to calm ; 
 
 And that Aurora horealis ointment. 
 
 To cure effectually by two hours aid 
 
 Inveterate Itch. 
 
 With hundreds more which quackery call'd her own, 
 
 And blazon'd thus, " Prepar'd by me alone!" 
 
 ^' Sign'd with my hand !" " Sold only by appointment I' 
 
 " Beware of counterfeits !" etcet'ra; each hath made 
 
 Th' inventor ricii.
 
 32 TRIUMPH 
 
 IV. 
 
 Friends, if you e'er have seen Vauxhall, 
 I pray you suffer me to call 
 A certain simile to my assistance ; 
 Nay tho' you ne'er have been within, 
 Your absence matters not a pin. 
 Doubtless you've all observ'd it at a distance. 
 I mean the Rocket, which wc oft see rise 
 With fiery impulse, pointing to the skies. 
 Seeming with scorn to turn his brilliant tail 
 On every firework of inferior name. 
 And minor flight ; 
 
 While these in turn shoot forth the squib and star, 
 Filling the ruddy air with mimic war. 
 And tho' in speed and attitude they fail, 
 They equally our admiration claim 
 By flames more bright.
 
 OF QUACKERY. S3 
 
 V. 
 
 Thus Quacks, by many a victim's pence, 
 
 Had soar'd from naught to opulence. 
 
 And from the qilded chariot's height look'd down, 
 
 Viewing with upstart ostentation. 
 
 The d. fits who caus'd their elevation. 
 
 And all the jog-trot tradesmen of the Town. 
 
 At length their modest neighbours caught the rage, 
 
 And fitiding 'twas the spirit of the age. 
 
 That artifice preceded true pretensions. 
 
 That for the pseudo charlatanic trade 
 
 The taste was ripe ; 
 
 Held competition which should be the first 
 
 The trammels of veracity to burst, 
 
 Let fly their brjoby-bolts in all directions. 
 
 And four-feet flams were on each wall display'd 
 
 In four inch type.
 
 3i TRIUMPH 
 
 VI. 
 
 The " List of Capitals" so glaring 
 
 Each day at every corner staring. 
 
 To advertise the licenc'd gambler's scheme. 
 
 Vied with the Tradesman's posting bill. 
 
 Proclaiming his superior skill, 
 
 Or trumpeting some new deceptive theme ; 
 
 And many a cit adopting tricks empiric 
 
 Aspir'd to wealth by mere self panegyric : 
 
 Nay one, who in invention was no ninny, 
 
 Dup'd the community for years together, 
 
 Entrapping gazers. 
 
 By pictures, couplets, songs and such devices. 
 
 Of matchless goods and very moderate prices, 
 
 And shoals of fools paid each his good half-guinea. 
 
 For two-pence half-penny worth of wood and leather, 
 
 To whet his razors.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 35 
 
 VII. 
 
 At length as if some sorcerer fell 
 
 Had conjur'd up a potent spell 
 
 To make the world for novelty run mad, 
 
 Not truth herself durst show her face, 
 
 With all her long-priz'd native grace, 
 
 Save when she in some outree garb was clad. 
 
 Daily the Saliinhancomania spread, 
 
 And new adventurers by old ones led. 
 
 Thrust forth tbeir noses by effrontery aided. 
 
 To fleece the multitude by juggling tricks 
 
 Their talents racking; 
 
 Each by his predecessor's fame elated. 
 
 With placard puffs his fish-hook-fingers baited, 
 
 Till all things were by quackery pervaded. 
 
 From science, art, and Spa-fields politics. 
 
 To liquid blacking. 
 
 c; 'Z
 
 36 TRIUMPH 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Not e'en Religion's sacred name. 
 
 Could stand secure from Quackery's aim, 
 
 Her face was worn the gaping throng to gull j 
 
 Who with such glee the mask received, 
 
 That tales were sworn-to and believed 
 
 Which would disgrace a savage Negro's skull. 
 
 The ravings of a female maniac's mind, 
 
 A cunning self-dub'd parson so defined. 
 
 That thousands in the well-laid gin were snar'd ; 
 
 And when her Priest, or dropsy, or excess 
 
 Increas'd her size j 
 
 Her fond disciples hail'd with exultation 
 
 A second pregnancy by inspiration, 
 
 For birth of Shiloh sumptuously prepar'd. 
 
 Till death step'd in, unveil'd their prophetess, 
 
 And op'd their eyes.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 37 
 
 IX. 
 
 The astronomical oration. 
 
 With all its powers of fascination. 
 
 And tho' by instruments and scenes assisted. 
 
 No longer could delight the Town, 
 
 Not even would the name go down. 
 
 Till Quackery in its service was enlisted. 
 
 At length a shrewd astronomer discerning 
 
 That all his auditors their backs were turning. 
 
 That Orreries and Lectures were grown stale. 
 
 And that his seats which us'd so full to be 
 
 Had scarcely any on, 
 
 Indulg'd them in the shadow-hunting game, 
 
 Turn'd lexicographer ^nAforg'd a name, 
 
 Nor did his efforts to attract them fail, 
 
 For all his former hearers ran to see 
 
 The Eidotir anion. 
 
 c3
 
 aa TRIUMPH 
 
 X. 
 
 Yet one remain'd whose sober nature^ 
 
 Preserv'd the antique nomenclature, 
 
 Till dazzled by his brother Lecturer's bills ; 
 
 When straiglit to competition spur'd, 
 
 " I too (he cries) can hatch a word" 
 
 He does, and lo his theatre he fills ; 
 
 For now th' excited crowd In hundreds flocks onj 
 
 Curious to see the Dioastrodoxon. 
 
 So much a new-coin'd epithet delights. 
 
 Projectors now the force oi that are wont 
 
 To found their wish on ; 
 
 Thus when a man superior cart-grease makes. 
 
 He may cry " grease ' till every sinew aches. 
 
 But fortune's certain when th' inventor writes 
 
 In half-yard letters on his house's front 
 
 *' Anti-attrition''
 
 OF (QUACKERY. 39 
 
 XL 
 
 In sculpture and in painting see 
 
 How strong the spice of Quackery, 
 
 For if Praxiteles and great Apelles 
 
 Should quit their tombs and visit town. 
 
 Hungry, and ragged, and unJnioivn, 
 
 Their works would ne'er suffice to fill their bellies. 
 
 But if a man of mediocre fame 
 
 Hath but a patron to advance his name, 
 
 With some few pounds to pay the daily papers. 
 
 To praise some bust he's carv'd, or portrait painted, 
 
 Of prince or lord, 
 
 Fashion 'ere long elects him for her minion. 
 
 Crowns him with her omnipotent opinion. 
 
 And straight he cuts such egotistic capers 
 
 As almost make the vulgar think him sainted. 
 
 He's so ador'd. 
 
 c i
 
 40 TRIUMPH 
 
 XII. 
 
 'Tis thus with literature too. 
 But this I own is far from new. 
 For (tho' our ostentatious nation brags 
 That wealth on British genius smiles) 
 What brilliant merit in our Isles, 
 Hath liv'd in penury and died in rags. 
 Thus 'twas, and is, and ever must remain. 
 While contumelious coldness and disdain 
 Shall cloud the feeble rays of talent's dawn ; 
 While literary caterers despise 
 Unfriended worth ; 
 
 Crush at a blow the tender germs of hope. 
 And 'stead of laurels give a yard of rope ; 
 Till franiic victims every help withdrawn. 
 Seek immortality above the skies. 
 Denied on earth.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 41 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Yet seek the affluent, titled few. 
 And place these lines within their view. 
 Those who imagine that they patronize 
 Science, Belles Lettres, and the arts. 
 And they'll persuade ye, bless your hearts, 
 That these assertions are egregious lies. 
 But I repeat they re, in spite of doubt. 
 And challenge refutation to point out 
 Where famish'd skill can enter and demand 
 To have some specimen of art inspected. 
 Or essay read ; 
 
 And boldly say " My lords and gentlemen 
 This is the produce of my hand, or pen. 
 X<etmy pretensions be maturely scan'd. 
 And if I've merit, let me be protected, 
 And give me bread."
 
 4J TRIUMPH 
 
 XIV. 
 
 No, even now should some poor scribe, 
 
 Kneel to the know ledge -vending tribe. 
 
 Owning himself a young obscure beginner 
 
 Altho' his work might rival aught 
 
 That mortal ever wrote or thought, 
 
 Twould not procure the fainting wretch a dinner. 
 
 From shop to shop his weary limbs might falter; 
 
 But if Anacreon, or My Lord, or Walter, 
 
 Would cozen them with his distinguish'd name. 
 
 Select some humble scribbler like me. 
 
 And let him write for't. 
 
 Soon as their eyes should meet the title page. 
 
 In furious contest they would all engage. 
 
 Without jiernsul each the prize would claim, 
 
 They'd give a thousand pounds; two thousand ; three. 
 
 They'd almost fight for't.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 43 
 
 XV. 
 
 Or should some spark of fashion's sphere. 
 
 Some nohle candidate appear. 
 
 To honor by his name the field of letters ; 
 
 Behold the critics, nine in ten. 
 
 In flattery's honey dip the pen, 
 
 Nor have the fortitude to scourge their betters. 
 
 Nay even tho' the author were a fool, 
 
 And tho' his work if written while at school. 
 
 Had made him feel the master's flagellation. 
 
 When all the artists of the book-wright trade 
 
 Have so bedeck'd it, 
 
 That hireling elogists are quite perplext 
 
 Which most to praise, its binding, plates, or text. 
 
 The gilded bauble's sure of admiration j 
 
 For those who by the rules of Ton are sway'd 
 
 Dare not neglect it.
 
 44 TRIUMPH 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But when I nam'd the critic brood, 
 
 'Twas not my meaning to include 
 
 A certain magisterial coterie, 
 
 Who with a quackery quite their own 
 
 Pronounce their table wisdom's throne, 
 
 Their pen the sceptre of her sovereignity. 
 
 Who have in learning's lists the gauntlet hurl'd. 
 
 And bluntly challeng'd all the thinking world. 
 
 Who sometimes snatch a name from merit's fane, 
 
 Altho' admiring millions all agree 
 
 Therein to fix it. 
 
 Nor he who sifts the works of deathless Bards 
 
 And says, " those portions which the world regards 
 
 "As best, are worst; as worst, superior reign." 
 
 By that incontrovertible decree 
 
 His ipse dixit.
 
 OF (QUACKERY. 45 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Nor is the drama, I maintain, 
 
 Or last or least in quackery's train. 
 
 For should the public taste from reason wander j 
 
 With rapture the degenerate stage. 
 
 Winks at the follies of the age. 
 
 Forsakes its censorship and plays the pander. 
 
 Erst (as the wealthy epicure rejects 
 
 The simple food which nature's hand directs ; 
 
 Disdains to wait till summer brings her hoard ; 
 
 Till fruit; or pulse, or root, by sun and showers. 
 
 Perfection reaches ; 
 
 Laughs at the tardy steps of father time : 
 
 Builds for himself an artificial clime. 
 
 And e'en at Christmas, decks the festive board, 
 
 With primal peas, and costly cauliflowers, 
 
 And precious peaches.)
 
 4G TRIUMPH 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Fashion (long time divorc'd from reason) 
 
 Cloy'd with dramatic food in season, 
 
 Spurn'd the rich fruits which nature had matur'd : 
 
 Old friends no more her praise could claim, 
 
 Nor could the fickle Mestrean Dame, 
 
 By aught but infant genius be allur'd. 
 
 Not e'en the names of Kemble, Cooke, or Young, 
 
 So long the theme of each deliglited tongue j 
 
 Not even Siddons' bosom-rending skill. 
 
 Which almost from our senses us'd to drive us, 
 
 Could now attract her ; 
 
 Obedient to lier nod the town ran wild. 
 
 To load with riches her adopted child. 
 
 And every night the theatre they fill. 
 
 Struggling to see her lloscius redivivus. 
 
 Her hot-bed actor.
 
 OF QUACKEl^Y. 47 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Month after month the lucky boy 
 
 Revel'd in sweets without alloy, 
 
 But when (the usual fate of skill prococioiis) 
 
 The favourite youth at length outgrew 
 
 His boyhood, and his talent too, 
 
 Fashion deserted him and farewell Roscius. 
 
 Yet, pamper'd by this choice tit-bit so long, 
 
 The vitiated palate of the throng, 
 
 To old substantial dishes scorn'd returning. 
 
 The stage, (altho' detcrmui'd not to throw 
 
 It's pearls to hogs,) 
 
 Ne'er strove to rally them, but fed their wants 
 
 With hour-long combats, horses, elephants, 
 
 Cascades of real water, castles burning, 
 
 Rope-dancers, swinging-monkies, rarce show. 
 
 And dancing dogs.
 
 48 TRIUMPH 
 
 XX. 
 
 Or if the humour of the day 
 
 Requir'd a kind of patch-tvork play , 
 
 A sort of Salmagundi histrionic ; 
 Their qunckships to supply their boards, 
 
 Rummag'd out all their ancient hoards. 
 Comic and Tragic; Farcic and Harmonic; 
 And taking from each solid joint a collop. 
 The cunning stage directors hash'd them all up, 
 (Just as a Spanish Gourmand mixes game. 
 Beef, mutton, poultry, ham, greens, fruit and fish. 
 His maw to cram.) 
 
 Season'd the medley mess with quantum sufF 
 Of Tinsel-scenery-smice, and Oil of puff', 
 Spung'd on their wittier neighbours for a name. 
 And in their bills of fare yclep'd the dish 
 A " Melo-drame."
 
 OF QUACKERY. 49 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And tho' the piece might scarce command 
 
 The motion of a single hand. 
 
 So it escap'd the talons of damnation. 
 
 Behold next morning how they fill 
 
 With lavish praise their flaming bill. 
 
 To puflFthe mummery into reputation. 
 
 " The splendid spectacle produced last night. 
 
 Was hail'd with bursts of rapture and delight. 
 
 The dresses were superb, the scenery magic. 
 
 The music a divine mellifluous prize 
 
 To London ears ; 
 
 Tlie comic scenes, so gay so exquisite, 
 
 Convuls'd with laughter. Gallery, Box and Pit ; 
 
 While some were so mechanically tragic. 
 
 That nought was heard or seen but sobs and sighs. 
 
 And groans and tears."
 
 50 TRIUMPH 
 
 XXII. 
 
 You'd almost think the trick too stale, 
 
 And yet 'tis seldom known to fail. 
 
 For still they find of flats a great majority, 
 
 WJio when the placard they peruse. 
 
 Implicitly believe the news, 
 
 Nor e'er presume to question such authority. 
 
 Flush'd with impatience to the house they drive, 
 
 And swarm and buzz like bees within a hive, 
 
 Prepar'd to hold their sides and wipe their eyes. 
 
 Thinking such scenes of grief and fun combin'd. 
 
 They'll almost die at ; 
 
 They feast their ears and eyes on noise and show, 
 
 And look (but look in vain) for mirth or woe. 
 
 At length they cry, " unless the bills tell lies, 
 
 What could the snickering, snivelling blockheads find 
 
 To laugh or cry at ?"
 
 OF QUACKERY. 51 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 At last th' experiment was tried. 
 
 To find if taste had slept or died. 
 
 And thank the Gods it prov'd she was but napping j 
 
 For tho' her death had long been fear'd, 
 
 Soon as the touchstone page appear'd, 
 
 Her few disciples woke her by their clapping. 
 
 She rubb'd her eyes a clearer sight to gain, 
 
 Curs'd her late torpor, and resum'd her reigri. 
 
 Hence we may hope e'er long, again to find 
 
 That truth and nature on the stage shall be 
 
 It's best security, 
 
 That splendour shall bedeem'd the minor part 
 
 And plays be written for the ear and heart ; 
 
 That classic requisites shall mark each kind. 
 
 Comedy sparkling wit; and tragedy, 
 
 Grace, depth and purity. 
 
 D 2
 
 Bi TRIUMPH 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Now let me from the stage depart, 
 
 And turn to sweet Euterpe's art, 
 
 Which late was taught Adagio epomposo / 
 
 Whose sapient doctors bade defiance 
 
 To every dabbler in the science. 
 
 And held their rank grave e maestoso. 
 
 Till one perceiving 'twas the only ground 
 
 Where subtle quackery had no footing found, 
 
 Snatch'd up his trumpet, and with blast /orifwm, 
 
 (That all the tinkling, fiddling world combin'd 
 
 Could not resist him) 
 
 Proclaim'd that by his genius's fecundity. 
 
 His ceaseless toil and erudite profundity. 
 
 He had invented to improve mankind. 
 
 And teach the rules of harmony prestissitj^o^ 
 
 A secret system.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 53 
 
 XXV. 
 
 And as the bird catchers employ 
 
 Some captive warblers for decoy. 
 
 To aid them in their trade by notes of knavery j 
 
 Teach them to strain their little throats 
 
 With all their most inviting notes. 
 
 To lure their feather'd brethren into slavery ; 
 
 So he procur'd some well intructed brats. 
 
 To talk of scales of nature, sharps and flats. 
 
 Of treble, tenor, counter, thorough bass. 
 
 To sing, sol fa, and play by sight or ear 
 
 With strict precision ; 
 
 While he exclaim'd, " Behold my friends, behold ! 
 
 Look at dem leetel tings ! give me de gold. 
 
 And 'tho your child be stupid as von ass 
 
 My school shall make him in von leetel year 
 
 Von great musician.'* 
 
 d3
 
 54 TfilUMPH 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 What blest effects we soon may see 
 
 From this renown'd discovery ; 
 
 Girls shall no more delight in dolls and patches ; 
 
 No more shall mischief loving boys, 
 
 Amusement find in games or toys. 
 
 But all shall join in concerts, glees and catches. 
 
 The larger child shall educate the lesser, 
 
 And ten years age shall form the grave professor j 
 
 Infants in leading strings, the pigmy elves. 
 
 Shall in the doctrine's rudiments be skill'd. 
 
 E'en babes in arms. 
 
 Uniting tastes for melody and pap, 
 
 Shall scream the gamut in their nurse's lap. 
 
 And carol hush-a-by to lull themselves. 
 
 Till nurseries, like orchestras be fill'd 
 
 With music's charms.
 
 OF QUACKERY. fj> 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Our opera too might be supplied, 
 
 But music there is laid aside, 
 
 Such is the dire effect of fashion's ravages j ' 
 
 And 'stead of dulcet chords and throats. 
 
 Opera m English now denotes 
 
 The feats of skin-clad transatlantic savages. 
 
 * 'Tis true the tuneful God's command they follow 
 
 For song and archery both delight Apollo j 
 
 Who yields alike his patronage divine 
 
 To Indian warrior's arm, and English lute. 
 
 Fiddle and lioiv ; 
 
 Nor cares a jot what names his votaries bear 
 
 Who strive in either art applause to share, 
 
 I-cl-d-n, Br-h-m, S-cl-r, C ke and P ne 
 
 Or Scnung-gis, Se-quos-ken-ace, Sta-eute 
 
 And Uc-tau-goh. 
 
 Both meric songcs and good shootinj^e dclip^htcth Apollo. 
 
 Aschain'k ToxopLilui. part, 1. 
 
 D t
 
 U TRIUMPH 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Or if perchance they sometimes deign 
 
 To deal in melody again, 
 
 'Tis but to put musicians in a panic; 
 
 And shew by artificial bands 
 
 They can dispense with mouths and hands. 
 
 And blow their trumpet by a force mechanic. 
 
 That wood and wheels and wire and springs and bellows 
 
 Can puff and scrape as well as lusty fellows. 
 
 Thus giving them a seasonable hint 
 
 That if they ever dare to vent their spleen. 
 
 Or e'en look sour ; 
 
 The managers will shew their independence. 
 
 And pay no human being for attendance. 
 
 But fill their orchestra by clockwork's dint. 
 
 And build a Fanharmonic Steam-machine 
 
 Of ten horse power.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 57 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Altho' the gudgeon- throated mob 
 
 Sharpers and swindlers daily rob, 
 
 Still you may make your fortune by a hoax ; 
 
 Do but invent a far fetch'd story. 
 
 The road to wealth lies straight before ye. 
 
 They'll ne'er suspect your honesty, kind folks. 
 
 Nor likelihood nor reason need you follow. 
 
 Nor fear to make the lie too gross to swallow. 
 
 But in hypocrisy be firm and bold 3 
 
 Say that a man you only knew by name, 
 
 (Twill pass for truth) 
 
 Left you three fourths of Europe by his will. 
 
 And half of India in a codicil. 
 
 With fifty millions sterling, all in gold. 
 
 And marvelling thousands, crouching will exclaim. 
 
 Fortunate Youth I ! '
 
 TRIUMPH 
 
 XXX. 
 
 In short John Bull of late is grown 
 
 To Jack o'lanthorn whims so prone. 
 
 That e'en a gewgaw rivets his attention ; 
 
 Make but a toy to please his eye, 
 
 Your name shall soon be rank'd as high 
 
 As if you'd given the world some great invention 5 
 
 And half the town shall run with anxious hopes. 
 
 To purchase all your what-d'ye-call-em-scopes. 
 
 As late was shewn when every shop and street 
 
 Teem'd with a motley group of peering winkers, 
 
 Of all conditions. 
 
 To such a height the peeping rage increased. 
 
 That if e'er this the folly had not ceased. 
 
 Our Cooks had wanted pots to boil our meat. 
 
 For all the Braziers, Copper-smiths and Tinkers 
 
 Had turn'd opticians.
 
 OF QUACKERY. 69 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 But if you would a scene behold 
 Where Quackery triumphs uncontroul'd, 
 And all her freaks are seen in full perfection ; 
 Go mingle with the busy ranks 
 Of suffrage-seeking mountebanks. 
 Who court ye at each general election. 
 Who purchase votes by promises and drink, 
 Poison each other's fame with printer's ink. 
 And roar till hoarse, to gain the rabble's plaudit , 
 Of "bravo, biavo, Patriotism for ever !" 
 " Huzza, Huzza ! " 
 
 And every wall presents a checquer'd page. 
 Where wily wights a wordy warfare wage ; 
 Where some abuse the state and others laud it, 
 Yet each affirms no power shall make him sevcj 
 From truth and law.
 
 60 TRIUMPH 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Some, sway'd by opposition's rules, 
 
 Say " All the ministers are fools ; 
 
 We are the wisest statesmen in the nation. 
 
 Give lis your votes and interest, 
 
 We'll never sv^^erve from your behest. 
 
 Nor e'er desert the duties of our station. 
 
 Naught from your rights and liberties shall warp us 
 
 Our votes shall ne'er suspend the Habeas corpus: 
 
 We'll ne'er consent to Armies, War, or Tax ; 
 
 But each will lend your cause with heart and tongue 
 
 His best ability. 
 
 We all have sworn an oath with due solemnity. 
 
 To raise our hands 'gainst Minister's indemnity. 
 
 Nor in our contest will we e'er relax. 
 
 But meet their every measure, right or wrong, 
 
 With firm hostility,"
 
 OF QUACKERY. 61 
 
 XXXIfl. 
 
 While those who grasp the loaves and fishes 
 
 Have no complaints, their only wish is 
 
 The sturdy democrats from power to bar. 
 
 They, like the well known priest of Bray, 
 
 Think none so fit to hold the sway 
 
 (Whate'er their talents) as " the powers that are." 
 
 " Give us your votes" (they cry) " and scout those dogs. 
 
 Those revolutionists, those demagogues. 
 
 Those base incendiaries who dare suspect 
 
 The sacred characters at Britain's helm 
 
 Of motives sinister. 
 
 Give each a place and spite of all their speeches. 
 
 There's not a man will practice what he preaches, 
 
 But give his present words the lie direct. 
 
 And say "the wisest man in all the realm 
 
 Is England's ministfer."
 
 0^ TRIUiMPH 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Behold by Tailors, Hosiers, Drapers, 
 
 And editors of Sunday papers, 
 
 Tlie standard of empiricism unfurl'd. 
 
 And each with confidence declares 
 
 His news or other home-made wares, 
 
 The very best and cheapest in the world. 
 
 While Haberdashers forge on quackery's mint. 
 
 And chouse us with the names of Todd and Flint. 
 
 Spruce Auctioneers when fortune sends a bidder. 
 
 To bless their oft deserted mart, ne'er fail 
 
 Smooth lies to tell. 
 
 That all their goods are bankrupt tradesmen's stock. 
 
 And every day they find some stupid block 
 
 Who thinks them cheap, nor pauses to consider 
 
 That, like the pedlar's razors in the tale. 
 
 They're " made to sell."
 
 OF QUACKERY. 63 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 What hundreds more I might describe. 
 
 Besides \hefry of Quackery's tribe. 
 
 Those who before ne'er had the slightest notion 
 
 To please beyond a country fair. 
 
 Yet now are deem'd attraction's rare. 
 
 And set the whole metropolis in motion, 
 
 Toby the deep-learn'd scientific Boar, 
 
 The wond'rous Giantess of six feet four , 
 
 The Salamander who can roll in flames. 
 
 So that you'd sWear he were a near relation 
 
 Of Belzebubs ; 
 
 Dwarfs (strange to tell) scarcely four feet in height j 
 
 Monsieur la Dame, the French Hermaphrodite, 
 
 And the Menagerie where London dames 
 
 Fondle, without alarm or hesitation, 
 
 The lion's cubs.
 
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