^cL-rrU d. '^f frtA.frr*.^^^>^^ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 A SATIRICAL POEM. 
 
 Koli'ioJ .'lu-ipii t'uiluX. J**, .(n^lif'rfl ,til!|ii^ hua jjfiahir.ll
 
 mr\ 
 
 i/iiJlL . m> OTIlJ5IIi<i 
 
 MA*yf I/;HITA>I A 
 
 Harding and Wright, Printers, St Jobs'* Square, Ixmdoa.
 
 
 THE 
 
 ^l.f 
 
 ^ i^:^ c ^^ ^ ^^^- 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION, vi^^ur..^^ 
 
 A SATIRICAL POEM. 
 
 '' Are there no sins for Satire's bard to greet? 
 " Stalks not gigantic Vice iu every street?" 
 
 ENGLISH BARDS AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS. 
 
 Diseite^ O Miseri! et cansas cognoscite rerum. 
 
 THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOB J. EBERS, NO. S3, OLD BOND-STBSET. 
 
 1810.
 
 FoiRHA'^ -io m'uimu'i 
 
 M.'ilOq JAOIHTtAB / 
 
 lAa.tWJil^ I 
 
 .10 ;v.*:.' . fj:? .r. it.rt rtn
 
 
 PREFACE^ 
 
 As the following pages will, in all probability, 
 never meet the eye of any but their author's 
 friends, he conceives it unnecessary to enter 
 into any elaborate apology for the errors with 
 which they abound, but throws himself on their 
 wonted clemency and goodness to him, to ex- 
 cuse them. 
 
 Satire, when discreetly used and aptly applied, 
 is a weapon which will oftentimes succeed when 
 argument and sounder sense have failed ; and it 
 is a fact well ascertained, that although the 
 human mind may be formed obstinately insen- 
 sible to proof or conviction of any kind, it will 
 nevertheless frequently shrink from the bare idea 
 of ridicule. Actuated by this opinion, the au-
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 thor has assuredly taken the liberty to laugh 
 pretty freely at some of the follies of the present 
 day; having, previously, endeavoured to disco- 
 ver the source of the present declining state of 
 the country, and to trace its origin ( in a great 
 measure) to those follies and vices, which he 
 afterwards makes it his business to deride. 
 
 To those who consider his ^atjre as applying^ 
 in any way, to themselves, Jie c^n only answer^ 
 that it has never, in any one instaijce^ been liis 
 intention to be personal; but he subinits it t9 
 the candid, whether^ in describing vice or folly 
 notoriously glaring, it be possible to avqid ap- 
 pearing to hint at those, who are in the daily 
 habits of practising it. Were he to paint yice 
 vi^hich exists nowhere, aad folly vyhich h^d its 
 being only in his own brain, of cqurse he would 
 cease to b^ natural, and, consequently^ cnter- 
 taininsr or instructive. ^ s 
 
 Thus, with all i^ faulty, \yitli fill i,ts ;iji}per- 
 fectioixs 91) its head, tfie fp)lp^jipg pr<g'(Jju<jti^|i
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 is submitted to the Public: and should he be 
 fortunate enough to amuse those friends, whose 
 kind entreaties have been the cause of his ap- 
 pearing again in print, the Author will deem 
 himself amply compensated for his trouble, and 
 his purport more than answered. Should it, 
 however, fall into the hands of the critic, he begs 
 leave to plead guilty to every thing beforehand ; 
 and in p^ing sentence, begs them.tpjTjeigEijember* 
 thiWti^i'^^ >V^ !^ nemo Dftioe 
 
 '^ NemS> mortalium\ omntbut horitf tapit." 
 
 London, ''' "' ' " ' ; vi j^ 
 October im.lStff!^^"'"'^-"""'^''--^'
 
 The Author ckiwiot conclude these 
 few prefatory remarks without apologizing for 
 some errors that appear in the printing through- 
 out this work. He will only observe, in exte- 
 nuation, that illness, and no small portion of 
 mental anxiety, have prevented his paying that 
 strict attention to the correction of the press 
 which he should have done.
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 To those friends, whose amuseraent alone gave 
 birth to the following pages, the author returns 
 his most grateful acknowledgments for the 
 rapid sale which they have experienced ^a 
 sale which requires in return the employment 
 of his best endeavours to render the present 
 impression more free from typographical er- 
 rors, than the author's avocations at the time 
 allowed the other to be. 
 - With respect to the O. P. clamour which his 
 bookseller informs him has been raised to the 
 detriment of his work, relative to its price- 
 warned by Kemble's fate, and Clifford's vic- 
 tory, the author intends yielding, in this in- 
 stance, to the popular voice. 
 
 To the Clergy, who he also understands 
 are equally clamorous against him, he begs 
 
 b
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 leave to make the most ample apology ; and to 
 assure them that he feels as sorry as they can 
 do, that individuals whom he has described, 
 do really exist and flourish in their respectable 
 order : individuals, who so far from only dis- 
 approving of the most humiliating vices of the 
 most abandoned, are not even contented with 
 their exacted tithe of such vices, but boldly 
 stand forward, the avowed patrons of profli- 
 gacy, and declared enemies to virtue of every 
 description. 
 
 Those gentlemen, who are determined to 
 consider the characters drawn in tliis satire 
 as levelled at their vices and follies in parti- 
 cular^ he would advise, in the first place, to 
 consider, whether they were ever thought to be 
 men of fashion by any but themselves } Let 
 them rest assured that vice and folly alone do 
 not constitute the man of fashion, without 
 being joined to some portion of ingenuity in 
 their folly and refinement in their vice. It 
 argues, therefore, no small degree of presump- 
 tion and arrogance, in their endeavouring to
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 monopolize to themselves all the folly and vice 
 of a large and populous town: but such gen- 
 tlemen may depend upon it, that the follovi^ing 
 pages descend not to criticize a large herd of 
 apesy but a small party of originals. The au- 
 thor then boldly challenge? any one individual 
 to stand forth and prove to the public, that 
 his pursuits coincide in every particular with 
 any one of the characters drawn in this book : 
 Then and not till then, he will allow he has 
 been personal. 
 
 And, finally, to all classes and orders of men 
 into whose hands this publication may fall, he 
 begs, in the words of the greatest prodigy of 
 learning the world has yet produced, to quote 
 the following passage, as the true and only le-. 
 gitimate foundation of this, or indeed any other 
 natural satire : 
 
 ** He that stands to contemplate the crouds 
 that fill the streets of a populous city, will see 
 many passengers whose air and motion it will 
 be difficult to behold without contempt and 
 laughter; but if he examine what are the
 
 Vltl PREFACE. 
 
 appearances that thus powerfully excite his 
 risibility, he will find amongst them, neither 
 poverty nor disease, nor any involuntary or 
 painful defect. The disposition to derision and 
 insult is awakened by the softness of foppery, 
 the swell of insolence, the liveliness of levity, 
 or the solemnity of grandeur; by the sprightly 
 trip, the stately stalk, the formal strut, and the 
 lofty mien, by gestures intended to catch the 
 eye, and by looks elaborately formed as evi- 
 dences of importance.'*
 
 THE 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 PART I; 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Introduction.. The subject proposed.. An address (not 
 complimentary) to some reviewing acquaintances. .Reason 
 of the country's present calamitous situation.. Her clergymen 
 considered. .Some examples adduced to prove their general 
 character. .Reason of the various dissenting sects that are 
 daily multiplying. .An address to Englishmen, shewing the 
 reasons why reform should be immediately commenced, and 
 proving its necessity.
 
 i-r?rx^ 
 
 '.} 
 
 THE 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 PREFATORY REFLECTIO>^S. 
 
 " Laugh where we musty be candid where we can.'^ 
 
 Essi.T ON Man. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 In days like these, when eve'ry hour that flies 
 
 Leaves food for contemplation and surprise ; 
 
 When tumults and, till yet unheard of, crimes 
 
 Amaze, astonish, and convulse the times ; 
 
 When Britain stands forth, friendless and alone. 
 
 To guard her laws, her liberties, and throne ; 
 
 Although oppos'd to Europe's pow'r combin'd. 
 
 And singly waging war with all mankind : 
 
 B 2
 
 'Twere surely no unfit or useless tas^. 
 
 In times so dread and perilous, to ask 
 
 If those resources which we yet possess. 
 
 Are aptly us'd to gain our happiness ; 
 
 If of those means, our country yet can boast. 
 
 By those who govern them, is made the most; 
 
 Those rights, for which thus nobly we have 
 
 fought ; 
 If yet rever'd, respected as they ought : 
 Rights ! which our ancestors bequeath'd to us. 
 Which we ahne are titled to discuss : 
 Rights ! which they purchas'd for us with their 
 
 blood. 
 And should be rightly priz'd, be understood. 
 
 To roam o*er this extended, open tract. 
 Muse, be it ours ! to ascertain the fact; 
 Explore and find the source of that decay, 
 "Whjch grows more evident from day to day ; 
 Ask whence its cause, its origin j and why 
 Our country's might is now nonentity? ^ ^ '' 
 
 Her native energies depress'd and damp'd. 
 Her boasted liberties perverted, cramp'd ? 
 Her statesmen, why on pe//" alone intent. 
 Alike incapable and impotent ?
 
 Her; vete'ran troops, by boys or dotardl^ feSF; ^^ 
 Her people burthen'd and dispirited ? '* 
 
 In short, why all on which her hopes depend, ' ^ 
 Bespeaks her fast approaching, dismal end ? '' '^ 
 The source discover'd, whence these evils flow, ' 
 The poison'd root laid bare xif all the woe : 
 Let lis proceed to draw, alas! with truth, 
 Tlie picture Fashion gives of modern youtftj ~ ' 
 Let ridicule be summon'd to out Md, ' ' -'^ ' '^^^ 
 And all their vari*ous follies be pourtray 'd : 
 From what they practise, make them turn their 
 .M-eyes, ^:l'^l 'rr-^id iah 
 
 And blush at all their own absurdities ; 
 What sense could not, let us attempt by fun. 
 And make them laugh at, if we cannot shun. 
 
 Let none the lay forbid, the theme despise; 
 The Briton's innate right I exercise : 
 A right to ask such questions, is the pledge 
 Which stamps him free ; his glorious privilege 1 
 
 Then hence, dread criticks ! Ye who from th^ 
 North, 
 Dispatch your merci'less anathemas forth. 
 Whose aid 'twere vain to hope for or implore. 
 By whom so many fall, to rise no more !
 
 Whose wants, wbose pockets. Englishmen, supply. 
 Who live but by their liberality. 
 Yet, all alike, or friends or foes, mal-treat, ;i 
 That some may read you, and yourselves may eatt 
 Avaunt ! I say, inhuman Scottish tribe, . ; f 
 
 I scorn to flatter you, and cannot bribe ! 
 Not your's the purport to instruct the age 5 j ;^^ 
 Not your's the vvjt which flows in Giffard's pagr 
 Not your's that chaste and entertaining style,, I 
 By which young Byron makes his readers smile ^. 
 With equal ppint, they wield the critick pen. 
 But blame like men, find fault like gentlemen. 
 W\i\i yoii, all authors share an equal fate, ji/ 
 Your censures gene'ral, indiscriminate. -| ^^ 
 
 Save when some rhyming blockhead of your 
 
 gang*, 
 Gives to the world his high-priced Tweedish slang'* : 
 
 * Gang, slang. These common-place expressions may 
 seem to demand an apology. In truth, it was long before I 
 could allow them to remain ; but my dictionary determined me 
 in the first instance ; and the coffee-house cornet in the last. 
 The former told me, that a gang was '' a ^rezo or company of 
 men acting together for one purpose." Now, without en- 
 quiring what that one purpose is, in the present instance ; I 
 much doubt if any word could be found more applicable to 
 ^he people alluded to. With regard to the word slang, the 
 " ' ' 4
 
 You must be scurrilous, you must abuse. 
 Vulgar* must be, or think you can't amuse ! 
 But hold, my Muse ! let us commence our 
 way. 
 Heedless who censures, who applauds the lay : 
 True to our views, pursue our first intent. 
 To critick spleen or praise indifferent. 
 
 coffee-house cornet informed me, as he "will, by-and-by, my 
 readers, that its general acceptation meant, ** Nonsensical 
 *' expressions, lately crept into fashion, with obscure mean. 
 *' ings, and chiefly calculated to make iUiterate persons. 
 *' stare." What are the following ? v* 
 
 ** 'Tis the^re shoxoW of ruin all dreadfully driv'n 
 
 *' From his eyrie that beacons the darkness of Heaven!" 
 
 Poems lately published: price \l. lis. 6d. ! ! ! Cum 
 multis aliis ! 
 
 Vulgar.-^-To justify this expression will not be diU 
 
 &ctdt. ' Vide Tweedish Review^ No. 27. " If this 
 
 ^ were otherwise, we should have one sort of vermin 
 
 ' banishing small-tooth combs ; another protesting against 
 
 ' mouse-traps ; a third prohibiting the finger and thumb ; 
 
 * a fourth exclaiming against the intolerable infamy of using 
 
 ' soap and water. It is impossible to listen to such pleas. 
 
 ' They must all be caught, killed^ and cracked. And the^ 
 
 ' more they cry out, the greater plainly is the skill used 
 
 ' against them ! !'' &c. &c. &c. If this [simile, this Ian. 
 
 guage, is not vulgar : let Hopping Ned, Blear-eyed Billy, 
 
 or any other inhabitant of St. Giles's, decide what is !
 
 8 
 
 The cause of Albion's many woes to ask. 
 And find their origin, our present task. 
 Not long we search, in doubt not long remain. 
 Their source, alas! is lamentably plain; 
 Does not the way her natives treat all laws. 
 Divine or not, reveal at once the cause ? 
 
 When all that should be, has been ever fear'dj 
 For ages stood, for ages been rever'd ; 
 Becomes contemn'd, nay deem'd a mere disgrace. 
 And infamy is worshipp'd in its place : 
 When vice pervades, in eve*ry branch, the state, 
 Uncheck'd by pow'r; nay, licensed by the great: 
 Whatever the hireling or the courtier urge -, 
 Is not that country on destruction's verge ? 
 
 And yet, methinks, there was a time, of old. 
 When Britons dar'd, in virtue's cause be bold. 
 When vice was shudder'd at, if ever nanCd, 
 And men were pious and were not asham'd ; 
 Those glorious days (as ancient legends tell) 
 When Christendom oppos'd the Infidel; 
 When Europe's forces met, resolv'd to show 
 Their greatest enemy their Gospel's foe : 
 Ev*ri, then, so much was godliness our boast. 
 So much our zeal applauded by each host :
 
 9' 
 
 That ev'ery nation strove with us to vie, .' 
 
 And gave their watchwords, " England's Piety * !** 
 But these enlighten'd, philosophic times, imlU^ 
 Have dubb'd religious zeal the worst of crimes; 
 To vex our God, is now the proof of skill : 
 To spurn his mandates, disobey his will. 
 Arid mock his vengeance, forms our chiefest 
 , ; -boast: -' -. t 
 
 The only struggle, who can act it, most ! 
 
 Look at his ministers ! behold the herd. 
 Decreed, deputed, to expound his word ; rl 
 
 Ordain'd to teach the igno'rant of their kind, 
 Keclaim the wanderer, and lead the blind I 
 Are they not, (lamentable to relate ! ) 
 Some few excepted, vile and profligate ? 
 Say! Is this malice? is it rant and spleen? / 
 Or is it truth ? Behold what I have seen ! . . jTT 
 Mark in yon* crowd a priest, a prebend stand ; 
 His family the noblest in our land : 
 Whose rank, whose station, and reputed sense. 
 Hundreds must sway, and hundreds influence. 
 
 * A curious fact, authenticated by the Tarious histories of 
 those daysj and worthy the attention of modern warriors.
 
 \ 
 
 la 
 
 What ground is that he treads on ? ^Muse, de- 
 clare ; 
 What is't he tends, with so much seeming care? 
 A stall he stands ini Readers ! we confess ; 
 Though not the one, wrayhap, which you might 
 guess. 'fi^'ftitii^si t> i 
 
 Not that one, by his bounteous sove'reign giv'^ 
 To teach us sinful folks the way to Heav'n ! 
 A stall he stands in where no puzzling creeds 
 Perplex r^^a stall for it contains his steeds U 
 In this, or on Newmarket's barren heathy ^i'*^'?^*^^ 
 Where brutes are tortur'd for the want of breath ; 
 Where villainies or every kind abound. 
 And all proclaims it, Satan's hallow*d ground ; 
 Where fraud is just, where virtue has a price. 
 And all is infamy and avarice : ' 
 Here see the prelate, conning o'er some scheme. 
 Some shade pursuing, or some golden dream ; 
 With nought but calculation in his brain. 
 And nought revolving, save the way to gain ! 
 'Tis not my meaning to accuse of fraud. 
 This curious compound, this mistaken lord ^ 
 I do not say, he enter'd an abode. 
 Or plunder'd it; or robb'd upon the road;
 
 11 
 
 Nay, I admit, what all around declare. 
 
 His conduct as a betting man is fairj 
 
 But when I speak of one of rank and birth. 
 
 The representative of God on earth,^^j,^^^j^;y7 
 
 I say 'tis shocking, to be forc'd to beg -g j,/. 
 
 Applause for such, because an upright leg.''^^ ^f > 
 
 Behold, too, on the self-same modern plaojj 
 Another such constructed clergyman I ^ ^ai^j-- ; , 
 Like this one, offspring of a noble line. 
 Of equal rank, hke this yclept divine ; 
 Twice have I said it, lest ye should not guess. 
 Or from appearance, manners, or from dress. 
 In truth, no qualms of conscience govern him, r 
 A jockey, groom, or aught that suits his whim : ^ 
 Nay, on that day, wherein with one accord,^!^ 
 All nations yest, in honour of their Lord; 
 And in that park, where poorer people fly^g^ r^ 
 And once a week repose from industry, | 
 
 Behold this arbiter of right and wrong r.^4|-, * 
 I say, observe him in the motley throng. 
 
 * The usual appellation given to a professed better at 
 NeMrmarket.
 
 a 
 
 Chusing this public place, this day, thisf time. 
 As if 'twere laudable, and not a crime. 
 To chat, forsooth, and saunter up and down. 
 With two notarious Women of the town : ^ 
 
 An act, for which a servant would be blam'd, 
 Oi VfhXch 2i British shopkeeper had felt asham'd^.'^ 
 
 These have I made the points of my attack. 
 Because the heads, the leaders of the packi *^'''^ 
 To cure or give the medi'cine proper force, "-' 
 Strike at the root of the disease, its soi&ce. 
 What must uneduc^ed beings say ? ^i^'^^>* A 
 When such is acting in the face of dayj 
 When those vvho\?A(7z^Zrfbe poorer people's guid<&i 
 Appearances, thug openly, deride? '^ 
 
 Nor is to town, the pestilence confin'd. 
 In eve'ry place, alas' ! the same we find ! '^ ' * 
 These weeds, the^e poisons, eve*^ry where abound. 
 In eve'ry soil spring up, and eve'ry ground : 
 
 Although, to trace through all their dark 
 abodes. 
 These vile contemners of their Maker's codes j 
 To bring to justice each one, or describe 
 Each individual of the impious tribe j
 
 13 
 
 The Muse, disgusted, shrinks from such a ta^ ; 
 'Twere more than she could do, or you would 
 ask ! 
 Else, might she point out some on^ Jack- 
 son's * list. 
 Who think the Deity is in the fist ; 
 Chickens * in orders, sacerdotal Cribs * 
 Who feel themselves ordained to pummel ribs ! 
 Abjure each puzzling, long-contested schism. 
 And strive to shine alone in pugilism ! 
 
 Or she might shew you one advanc'd in years. 
 Whose courage bids him spurn all common 
 
 fears J 
 Though time has, long since, silver'd o*er his 
 
 pate. 
 Yet hobbling on, a limping reprobate ! 
 
 * It is, I presume, unnecessary to state these are the 
 names of celebrated bruisers. One of the clerical amateurs^ 
 above alluded to, carried his love of the science so far, that 
 he preached a sermon ou the following text^ from Virgil: 
 
 *' Olli atternantes, multa vi, proelia miscent.*' 
 
 His audience were, of course, much edified, and wondered 
 whero their minister had become so learned.
 
 ' 14 
 
 His flock forsaking, family and home, * ^ 
 
 With boys and stripling debauchees to roam 5;^ 
 Straining his aged limbs, with them to vie 
 In every sort of brutal revelr}'* : "^ 
 
 With them compell'd to bear a prison's damps. 
 Not for St. Paul's offence, but breaking lamps 1 
 Vice of each sort, each species, and degree. 
 Indulging in : and this at sixty-three / * 
 
 Let these suffice as samples of the rest, 
 'Tis but a sick'ning scene to paint at best. 
 
 But where can these (enquires the thinking 
 mind), 
 A place to hide in, or a refuge find ? 
 Are they not pass'd, by ev'ry Briton, by. 
 As pests, disgraces to society. 
 Apostate knaves, whose very looks offend ? 
 Exist they may ^but can they have a friend ? 
 Alas ! 'tis sad, but not the less correct. 
 None seem to shun this philosophic sect; 
 Their strange contempt of all most sacred rites. 
 Proclaims them liberal, not hypocrites; 
 
 1; II .-..! ' ill I tf 
 
 * '' Mtttato noroine, de T fabuU narratur." <
 
 15 
 
 Their tenets, now-a-days, the fashion deem*d. 
 Themselves endur'd, too frequently esteem'd! 
 
 Yet we who thus encourage each attempt. 
 To treat our bounteous Maker with contempt ! 
 Can still his aid, his mercies still implore, ' 
 
 And beg to rule the world as heretofore; 
 Beg him upon our side to interfere. 
 Although we nor respect him, nor revere! 
 
 Yes ! most unthinking, most unworthy race I 
 Your country's direst foes, her chief disgrace ; 
 Should ever Albion ( Heav'n avert the day ! ) 
 Be forc'd, at length, to own a foreign sway. 
 Or groan beneath Napoleon's despot laws ; 
 'Tis you have done it ! you have been the cause ! 
 For you she suffers, for your crimes has bled, 
 *Tis you have call'd down vengeance on her- 
 head ! 
 
 The way-worn soldier in the hottest fire. 
 Though wearied, faint, appall'd, dares he retire ? 
 Though death and horrors lighten in his face. 
 Dares he fall back an inch, a single pace ? 
 Though dragg'd, mayhap, from children, home, 
 
 and friends, 
 T gain some despot his tyrannic ends;
 
 16 
 
 Though ignorant for whom or what he fights. 
 
 If to defend, or do away his rights j 
 
 Though Fate have fram'd him in the coward's 
 
 mould, 
 Dismay'd his heart, forbad him to be bold -, 
 Yet if one instant from his rank he flies, 
 Abhorr'd, degraded, and despis'd, he dies ! 
 
 But you, by no such force or pow'r constrained. 
 Who swear you wish, you pant, to be ordain'd -, 
 Who volunteer to serve your Maker's cause. 
 Expound his will, and advocate his laws: 
 You can, degene'rate dastards that ye are ! 
 Forsake, at once, all trusted to your care; 
 With England's dregs, in infamy keep pace j 
 Can fly your pulpits for 2i,fight or race. 
 Or mob of any kind ; and all for why ? ^ 
 
 For fear of being tax'd with piety ! 
 For fear of being hooted, qiiizz*d, or hist. 
 Or term'd by idiot striplings, methodist ! 
 For fear some officers should leave ye out. 
 When next they mean to have a drinking boutf 
 
 Here are the weapons which all atheists use 
 To gain their purpose and obtain their views :
 
 it 
 
 'Tis not the Gospel's truth wtiifch they attack. 
 They know that there they mlist be driven back. 
 " But look at those who preach it!" is their cry, 
 " Behold the men renown'd for piety ! 
 " Cati that be true which churchmen even 
 
 hate ? 
 " When the}j indulge in all they deprecate; 
 " When they despise the laws they advocate!" 
 And hence the cause of all those sects and clans, 
 Dissenters call'd and Presbyterians, 
 Which daily multiply, o'errun the land, 
 And barns erect where churches ought to stand. 
 
 Where can the untaught village-rustic fly, 
 To learn the truth or teach his family ? 
 His minister 'twere vain for him to seek, 
 *Tis true, mayhap, he sees him once a week ; 
 That is, if nought more pleasant should be 
 
 plann'd. 
 No races near, nor boxing match at hand; 
 And if the fumes of what he drank o'er night. 
 Have not depriv'd him both of sense and sight. 
 When found, can he expound the poor man's 
 
 creed ? 
 Can he inform, instruct him ? can he read } 
 
 Q
 
 18 
 
 A man, mayhap, with thirty pounds a year. 
 Who lives in ale-houses, exists on beer ; 
 Oblig'd, for that, to labour like a beast. 
 Six days a workman, on the sev'nth a priest! 
 To ask the rector's aid were deem'd a crime. 
 Of course, the fox-hounds occupy his time ; 
 He rarely deigns to quit his bed of ease. 
 Except to snatch the tenth of all he sees. 
 
 Thus situate, the unenlightened wight, 
 Quaking, no doubt, with superstitious fright. 
 Yet sure that what he sees cannot be right. 
 Obtains remission how and when he can. 
 And makes the farrier his clergyman ! 
 
 Shades of our ancestors ! whose fame of old. 
 In ev'ry time, the echoing world has told; 
 Whose ancient valour and heroic deeds. 
 Each British bosom yet enraptur'd reads! 
 Deeds! which, in every country, clime, (Tr age. 
 Have fiird the poet's and historian's page; 
 Of eve'ry muse the theme, and eve'ry pen, 
 Ye I invoke ! and ye, my countrymen ! 
 if British blood yet flows within your veins. 
 If for your country aught of love remains.
 
 19 
 
 O make your first, yonr chief, your chiefest 
 
 care, 
 That which first rais'd, first made you what you 
 
 are ! 
 For men of sense, of education search. 
 Elect them guardians of your ancient church ; 
 Their wants as men, as gentlemen supply j 
 And spurn the pettifogging penury. 
 Which bids enrich the creatures of a throne. 
 And starve the ministers of God alone ! 
 Let virtue once more flourish in your Isle, 
 And make it despicable to be vile. 
 One moment's more delay, and we are lost ; 
 Our boasted liberty must be the cost. 
 Where'er .we turn, the prospect every way 
 Declares me true, enforces what I say : 
 Behold where Europe groans beneath the ro^ 
 Of an insulted, an avenging God ! > 
 
 Where kingdoms flourished, and where empires 
 
 stood. 
 Behold a scene of wretchedness and blood ! 
 Nor is to modern times the proof confin'd ; 
 In every age and aera of mankind 
 
 C2
 
 20 
 
 The same is evident : in pagan times; 
 
 Nations were ever victims to their crimes. 
 
 What humbled Athens, pride of ancient Greece! 
 
 In war triumphant, eminent in peace ? 
 
 What delugM Italy in Roman blood. 
 
 Overthrew an empire which for years had stood? 
 
 Laid waste her cultur'd, once admired plains, 
 
 And plac'd the rulers of the world in chains ? 
 What but the scope to all debauch'ry giv'n. 
 And vice too gross to be endur'd by Heav'n 1 
 And shall we then, forgetting common sense. 
 Reject such proofs, despise such evidence ? 
 We, who alone, of all mankind, remain. 
 Who dare as yet our liberties maintain. 
 And yet are France's dread, yet rule the main; 
 Shall we, I say, like all around deprav'd, 
 Submit by choice, by choice become enslav'd ? 
 No ! let us, rather, fly the' impending storm. 
 Commence at once a radical reform; 
 From infamy as from contagion fly. 
 And snatch this last, this only remedy.
 
 THE 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 A Peep at the Cabinet. .Reasons of the present Disputes in 
 it enquired into. .Character of and Eulogiam on Mr. Pitt 
 _ . His Successors and their System and Measures repro. 
 bated.. A Simile.. College Education described, and the 
 Professors of it ridiculed.. A Panegyric on the Nary and 
 Army, and a concluding Address to them.
 
 TOl 
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 1 HE base thus feeble, on the which, in fact. 
 The whole of state machinery must act; 
 (For, spite of all that self-taught atheists rant. 
 The vicious being must be ignorant; 
 Examples countless, proofs unnumber'd state, 
 Man must be good before he can be great) ; 
 Of course, it follows, that each minor wheel 
 Will, more or less, the groundwork's weakness 
 
 feel. 
 Thus with our councils: useless to declare 
 How ably manag'd once those councils were:
 
 24 
 
 How, with illustrious Chatham at their head. 
 The world beheld us with respect and dread ; 
 Beneath his reign, in truth, wan Albion fam'd. 
 Her neighbours fear'd, yet bless'd her as they 
 
 nam'd : 
 Around her, peace dispens'd its many charms. 
 And all proclaimed her queen of arts and arms. 
 Nor less they prosper'd, when beneath his son. 
 In whom his virtues yet more splendid shone: 
 Although to him assign'd, to live in times 
 Replete with horrors, and unheard-of crimes; 
 Though Fate decreed him, singly to oppose. 
 Not foreign only, but domestic foes ; 
 On ev'ry side, at once, to turn his eyes. 
 Watch worlds in arms, trace treason in disguise, 
 And guard against unnumber'd hosts of spies; 
 Where'er he turn*d with enemies beset. 
 Nor least of these, one in the cabinet ; 
 Whose wild ambition, and fantastic dreams. 
 At all times strove to mar his prudent schemes ; 
 Whose talents -(greater, Nature never gave) 
 Serv'd but to make him party's veri'est slave. 
 Whose only wish or aim, appear'd, through life 
 To wage perpetual war, and endless strife, 
 4
 
 25 
 
 With one whose xvorth attach'd him to his king i , 
 To gain these ends, would utter any thing. 
 All that his fertile faculties conceiv'd, 
 AH that he heard, or fancied, or believ'd ; 
 What malice prompted, or ingeni'ous wit. 
 All, all was levell'd at his rival, Pittl r , ;. . 
 But though surrounded with these countless 
 
 foes, . ;i 
 Though all conspired his purpose to oppose ; 
 Though storms, on all sides, threatened to o'er- 
 
 whelm. 
 Still stood the pilot, steady at the helm . 
 To one sole aim, one only purport true. 
 With but one end, his country's good, in vijew. ^ 
 He knew, what meant the ivould-be patriots* cry. 
 The mob's command, the people^ s monarchy ; 
 He knew how vain to check, or even face 
 A lawless croud, a phrenzied populace ! 
 Nor threats coulcl move, nor arts could make him 
 
 swerve. 
 He strove, and meant his country to preserve ; 
 Not turn'd from what he knew was common 
 
 sense. 
 By sophistry or dazzling eloquence ;
 
 26 
 
 Because no madmen rav'd at his approach. 
 No shouting vagrants trail'd along his coach f 
 No French-paid rioters pronounc'd him clever. 
 Nor as he pass'd, roar'd out, " Strong beer for 
 
 ever /" 
 In vain declaimers murmur, maniacs rant, 
 He, in his duty ever vigilant, 
 Oe'rlook'd the state, the army, the finance, 
 And all combin'd, to check the pow*r of France. 
 "Which pow'r advancing with a rapid stride. 
 If not oppos'd, he vt^isely prophesied. 
 Would shortly crush vrhat had for ages stood. 
 Make Europe welter in her people's blood. 
 And ruin all things, glorious, great, or good ! 
 None, whilst he liv'd, could foil the wise in- 
 tent. 
 His talents splendid and self-evident. 
 His probity acknowledg'd and rever'd, 
 By even enemies admir'd and fear'd, ' 
 
 Made all submit to his superior sway. 
 The gene'ral wish, to hear him and obey s 
 None dAr'df none tried to snatch from him a 
 
 shield, 
 Which all declar'd, that he was born to wield.
 
 27 
 
 And hence, beneath his skilful, master hand. 
 Was caird forth all the talent of our land ; 
 He plac'd each volicme in its proper shelf y 
 Taught each to know the station of itself j 
 Dispos'd them 'round him, upon either side. 
 As use requir'd, or genius qualifiec' ; 
 And thus arrang'd, the huge machine of state. 
 With such a hand to guide and regulate. 
 Went smoothly on, to reach its destined goal, 
 Each part conducing to complete the whole. 
 But when our crimes compell'd Omniscient 
 Heaven, 
 To take from us the Guardian it had given ; 
 As if by magic*s power, up sprang at once. 
 Each self-made statesman, every titled dunce ; 
 At once commenc'd a kind of scrambling race. 
 Who should obtain the vacant, wish'd-for place. 
 A general rush for power and pelf 
 The goal, the winning post of each one, self. 
 Yet let who would succeed, be in, or out; 
 England, alas! the last thing thought about. 
 Imprimis; all their pockets claim'd supplies; 
 Then all the branches of their families
 
 Must all be thought of, all must be enrich'd. 
 And hosts of cousins pension'd, scarcely 
 
 breech *d. 
 And where, the while, the tenant of the throne ? 
 Unhappy, agitated and alone ; 
 Upon his people's welfare solely bent. 
 Nought else revolving, on nought else intent. 
 He saw, with grief, the system going on 
 And sigh'd in secret for his Chatham's son. 
 Alas, in vain ! Meanwhile no twelve-month past 
 Without some change, more vexing than the 
 
 last : 
 Some council squabble, caus'd by party whim. 
 Some childish broil, referr'd, of course, to him ; 
 *' The Mai'quis Twiddledum could no-how see, 
 " Why he was pass'd for Viscount Twiddledees 
 " Nor would that lord forego his first intent, 
 " His son must have that place, his friend that 
 
 regiment!" 
 And xvhere, we ask, was Britain all this while ? 
 Where was our country, that ill-fated isle ? 
 All news that reach'd her, ev'ry post that came, 
 Announc'd some word insult on her name;
 
 29 
 
 Each public print, each European press, 
 Teem'd with accounts of Gaul's uncheck'd suc- 
 cess. 
 Some fresh privation on her sinking trade , 
 Napoleon's hatred, ev'ry hour display'd ; 
 Some ambuscade, some unexpected blow. 
 Which prov'd his only aim, her overthrow. 
 When Pitt surviv'd, whose all-revolving mind 
 Look'd Nature through, and scann'd at once 
 
 mankind. 
 He saw, that if we tremblingly survey'd. 
 Nor strove to check the havoc Gallia made ; 
 If we amaz'd bok^d on, whilst one by one. 
 Our friends were vanquish'd, which was daily 
 
 done : 
 If thus we shap'd our conduct ; it was plain. 
 That though we still might govern on the main 
 No ports would open to us, and no trade re- 
 main. 
 Hence Austria, England's chief and best ally. 
 From Pitt receiv'd, at all times, a supply ; 
 To aid her cause, and urge this best of friends 
 To fight, in fact, our battles, gain our ends.
 
 30 
 
 Not her alone, but ev'ry court the same^ 
 All honor'd, all look'd up to, Britain's name j 
 Her friendly standards ev'ry where unfurl'd. 
 Her fleets and armies active through the world< 
 
 But those who rule us now, think otherwise, 
 *' What need (they ask) has England of allies? 
 " We rule the main, and whilst the main is ours, 
 *^ What can xve have to fear from foreign powers ? 
 " And as for trade, ( tliese sapient statesmen cry. 
 Enlightened by the self-same policy,) 
 *' 'Tis fact, that to our native merchandize 
 " All foreign markets x)we their chief supplies, >>; 
 '* Nay live, exist but by our commerce' aid ; 
 " And hence, we must and always shall have 
 
 trade." 
 But can such arguments as these hold good ? 
 Must Britain smuggle for its livelihood ? , .j (' 
 Must they, to whom of old, the world were 
 
 slaves. 
 Become a gang of pirates ? Graceless knaves ! 
 Will such become ? Will such be worthy them ? 
 Can they exist by what their laws condemn ? 
 Can trade like this a imtiorCs wants supply ? 
 A vatiorCs wants alrcviate ? Absurdity !
 
 Yet such the arguments which now are us'd^ '^ 
 With which John Bull is now-a-days amus'd; 
 By which the greatest warrior yet beheld, 
 We hope to baffle is to be repell'd. 
 
 Thus all the friends we had, are bought or sold 
 By France's arms, subdu'd, her arts or gold ; 
 And we, the while, clear-sighted prudent elves ! 
 Have wisely kept our money to ourselves ; 
 That is, for thieves to heap in plunder'd hoards,/ 
 To pension idi'ot, peculating lords. 
 Has one ounce weight been taken from our 
 
 backs ? 
 One burthen laid aside ? one single tax ? 
 Yet here behold us ! destitute of aid : 
 Nor friends, nor influ'ence, revenues, no r trade. 
 
 'Tis true an expedition sometimes goes. 
 To do what good it can do to, our foes! 
 Sent Lord knows whij, and Lord knows what 
 
 to do; 
 And under the command of Lord knows who. 
 
 Which Lord, mayhap, has ne'er beheld a shot 
 But borough-pelf m quantities has got ! 
 Moreover is the fashion, quite the ton. 
 And shew'd great skill one day at Wimbledon ;
 
 He having formM some well-digested plan. 
 
 Sails with sotne v^eW-digesting alderman. 
 
 All sorts and kinds of hum'rous blmiders makes. 
 
 Forgets, confuses, overlooks, mistakes. 
 
 Acts on a system which its end defeats. 
 
 Fights when he should not -, when he should, 
 
 retreats. 
 A pit, or ditch, gets buried in, or sluice. 
 And, as John Bull would term it, plays the 
 
 deuce ! 
 Then as at school, some dictatorial elf. 
 When ask'd, what he, alas ! knows not himself. 
 Replies by scourging the enquiring lout ; 
 And roars, " Go on, sir What are you about? 
 So when our gallant troops, compell'd to halt. 
 Not by their own, but by their leaders' fault. 
 His orders wait for j that heroic wight 
 Perplex'd, confus'd, and quaking, bids them 
 
 And fight they do, and will do, till they die. 
 For Britons cannot, knozv not how to fly ; 
 And hence obtain, if such is. Victory ! 
 One, truly, purchased at a trifling cost ; 
 ^^ayhap some quarter of the army lost ^
 
 3S 
 
 But still the Tower cannon make a fuss, 
 
 " Behold !" cry statesmen, " what you owe 
 
 to us!" 
 When lo ! an ambuscade who could have 
 
 thought it ? 
 With one, two, three, four armies to support it ! 
 O whip those French ! they are so very cunning. 
 Thus ends the farce, and "Exeunt omnes running" 
 . Nor do such deeds create the least surprise. 
 Things quite of course, allow'd absurdities ; 
 In vain the senate meets, the time arrives 
 When all behold their Representatives ! 
 That sacred corps, to whom redress belongs. 
 Decreed, deputed to relieve our wrongs. 
 In vain, a sufTring land to them applies 
 Their time more weighty matter occupies ; 
 On other themes are senators intent. 
 More fit, more worthy England's P r nt ! 
 First, must explore some new-discover'd job. 
 Find out, if so and so did really rob ; 
 Then must decide upon some chaste dispute. 
 Between a prince and cast-off prostitute i 
 And last of all, before they turn their backs. 
 
 Perhaps remember that " they ought to tax /" 
 
 D
 
 34 
 
 Meanwhile, do those who chose, who plac'd 
 them there. 
 
 To make their wrongs and injuries their care ; 
 
 Are they attended to ? their wants suppHed? 
 
 I fear not ! See the case exemphlied! 
 
 Your slaves defraud you ! housekeepers at- 
 tend ! 
 
 They all in some and different ways offend ; 
 
 In vain you bluster, ring the bell and storm. 
 
 No prospects of amendment or reform ; 
 
 In ev'ry branch, some fresh abuse you spy, 
 
 'Tis plain a thief is in your family. 
 
 Resolv'd to find out who and what is wrong. 
 
 You call together the offending throng ; 
 
 Cook, coachman, butler, housemaid, footman, 
 groom. 
 
 Behold assembled in the drawing-room ; 
 
 Of course, you enter with an angry face. 
 
 Begin to scold and question ; what takes place ? 
 
 John says that Bill has stolen so much tea. 
 
 Bill says that Peggy's quite as bad as he ; 
 
 Peggy purtests that since they've us'd her so. 
 
 She'll tell what Molly did some weeks age
 
 3^ 
 
 Molly makes furious thrusts at Jem the groom/^ 
 And shews some plunder'd saddles in his room, / 
 Jem, to the self-same mode, of course, resorts, 
 And swears the butler steals the wine by quarts. 
 So many charges, shortly, are preferr'd. 
 You nor can hear, are listen'd to, or heard ; 
 Each moment brings to light some piece ofne\Vs, 
 All speak at once, and all at once accuse ! 
 
 Meanwhile your food forsaken by the cook, 
 With no one near to mind or overlook. 
 Is burnt to chips j the pudding overboird; 
 In fact your dinner most completely spoil'd. 
 Thus starv'd as well as stunn'd, and plagu'd to 
 
 death. 
 You lose your temper, with your time and 
 
 breath i 
 
 And quit this mob, this scene of noisy bliss. 
 
 The only certainty discover'd, this; 
 
 That all has been upon the pilfe'ring plan. 
 
 And all defraud you how and when they can ; 
 
 And so resolve, before your all is gone, 
 
 (That is, if wise) to turn off eve'ri/ one I 
 
 And thus, precisely thus, is England us*d. 
 
 Thus is she treated, thus is she abus'd ; 
 D2
 
 36 
 
 Her goods are stolen, bounties \i\e\yjobb'd. 
 And eve'ry thing proclaims that she is robb'd ; 
 In vain her natives " ring the bell* and storiUj 
 " No prospects of amejidment or reform.^* 
 Nor can her slaves, when met, afford relief; 
 No povi^'r to chasten nor to find the thief: 
 As in this instance, all is noise and pother^ 
 And like the servants, all accuse each other. 
 My lord allows he made a trifling trip. 
 And pocketed a paltry writership ; ' - .> - ^i '? 
 But wonders that the viscount dares to tax 5 
 *' Has he forgotten all that sealing xoax ? 
 ** Those pens, that paper, talk'd so much about, 
 " Ahich he, GREAT man, purloin'd on going out r" 
 Nay, not to words alone, confin'd the strife. 
 The statesman now attempts his colleague's life. 
 Thus whilst on us is fix'd each wond'ring eye. 
 To mark the stand we make for liberty 3 ' 
 
 Whilst ev'ry neighb'ring pow*r, amaz'd, awaits. 
 To see how such a struggle terminates ; 
 Whilst Q\*Ty arm is rais*d, and flag unfurl'd. 
 To crush this only bulwark of the world ; 
 
 * Pretty loudly too at times !
 
 37 
 
 The men, on whom her state employments fall. 
 Whose task it is to guard her tott'ring all ; 
 Whose wisdom, all her prospects rest upon. 
 These men are duelling at Wimbledon ! 
 But zvhence this folly? (you exclaim,) these 
 
 crimes ? ': 
 
 And why peculiar are they to these times ? 
 In ev*ry age some statesmen have stepp'd forth ; 
 See Walpole, Chatham, Rockingham, and 
 
 North ; 
 All men, the boast and glory of our land ; - 
 Men born to rule, created to command : 
 Then why, when most such talents are requir'd. 
 Why, now-a-days, are none like those inspired ? 
 Why nozv, I ask, when perils so abound. 
 Can none with common intellects be found ? 
 Once more, enquirer ! I repeat the truth. 
 Once more I say, behold the modern youth ! 
 In vice's school, in folly's nurs'ry bred. 
 Behold him ignorant, unprincipled ! 
 How does the boy of rank, now spend his time ? 
 . To think, to dream of study, were a crime ; 
 'Tis true, three tedious twelvemonths are decreed 
 To spend in college walls : but does he read ?
 
 38 
 
 Do those, whose task it is to teach him, show 
 The many joys which must from science flow? 
 Tiie seeds of learning, in his bosom plant. 
 And prove how wretched are the ignorant? 
 
 Behold his tutors ! mark each full-fed paunch, 
 At table plac'd, around some smoking haunch; 
 'Tis here, collegiate teachers chiefly shine, 
 'Tis here that fellows construe and decline. 
 Where all look'd-out or analyzed is wine. 
 Here they discuss how tipsy once they got, , 
 When youth and better claret were their lot ; . 
 Drink * speedy death to one who dwells hard by 
 And holds, mayhap, some wish'd-for rectory. 
 With holy oaths attendant waiters fright : 
 And thus divinely wear away the night; 
 Till morning dawns, and sends them to their 
 
 school, 
 With heads and senses comfortably cool ; 
 With intellects unfetter'd, quite at ease. 
 Just fit for Juvenal or Sophocles. 
 
 * This toast is verbatini from one given at a scene I hap- 
 pened io be witness to of this nature, at Oxford.
 
 39 
 
 Meanwhile their pupils, in the self-same state. 
 Their wits employ to batter down some gate ; 
 Indulge, uncheck'd, in Herculean feats. 
 And prove their talents in the suffe'ring streets: 
 Their youthful fists, heroically clench, '/ 
 
 And drub the tozcnsmeUy as they would the 
 French J 7 
 
 Their days, of course, to sporting they devote. 
 To read their bets, or cut a hunting coat ; y 
 
 To think of study, or attempt to read. 
 With hounds and races near were mad indeed. 
 Till duly skill'd in eve'ry proper prank. 
 To Town they fly, to seize on wealth and raiik,; ? 
 To hold the highest offices of state. 
 And make their country glorious, good, and 
 
 great ! 
 And can we ask the source of all our woe ; 
 When things are as they are, when facts are so? 
 Can beings untaught and from childhood blind. 
 Preserve a kingdom warring with mankind ? 
 Beings ! who yield to eve'ry whim or pet> 
 And though they scarce can con their alphabets 
 Their wits, forsooth, their services, so prize. 
 
 That we must buy their dull abilities ; 
 
 2
 
 46 
 
 Trash as they are ! their terms presume to brin^, 
 And bargain with before they serve their kin"-!^ ^ 
 Knowledge and practice need each other trade, 
 And how can statesmen then be ready made? 
 What makes our boasted navy so complete ? 
 What is it so distinguishes our fleet ? 
 What, but the way in which itsyouth are taught, 
 Compell'd to learn, to study what they ought; 
 Through navigation's ev'ery branch to ply, ' ^ 
 And con them o'er from earlie'st infancy 3 
 Whilst hourly practice ghews them what they 
 
 read : 
 Hence all must know their duty, all succeed. 
 O, with what joy the muse enraptur'd flies. 
 To where (if 'tis on earth) perfection lies; 
 How joyous hastes, to pay the tribute due. 
 Heroic seamen ! gallant tars, to you ! 
 In praising you, her country's chief defence. 
 How does she feel the want of eloquence; 
 How trifling thanJcSy for services so great, 
 For deeds like yours, how far inadequate ! 
 Ye who, in eve'ry clime, your trophies plant 1 
 Intrepid ever, ever vigilant !
 
 41 
 
 Protectors of your country and your king ! 
 To whom that country owes her eve* rr/ thing. 
 Receive a poet's thanks ! whose humble lays. 
 Convey unfeign'd, although imperfect praise : 
 At least in him the Nation's voice you hear. 
 All know your worth, and all like him revere; 
 And all your wants, your wishes to supply. 
 To soothe the woes attach'd to victory; 'T 
 
 Assuage the grief, and dry the hallow'd tear,' 
 That trickles o'er departed valour's bier ; 
 To seek your families, your children, wives. 
 And all your weeping mnch-lov'd relatives; 
 For all their cares and comforts to provide. 
 Has been, and ever zvill be Britain's pride ! 
 Nor less her gallant soldiers form her care. 
 No less her love, her best affections share : 
 Not their's, brave men ! the fault, not their's the 
 
 crime. 
 That fate decreed her empire maritime : 
 Their gen'rous zeal has ever been display'd. 
 When Britai n,when their country, claim'd their aid . 
 Throughout the globe, their valo'rous acts have 
 
 shown 
 Her troops the best, the bravest, ever known ;
 
 42 . 
 
 Each hour, each moment, proof of this supplies : 
 If more be wanting ask their enemies. 
 
 Ask proud Menou, if wash*d away those stains 
 His vaunted fame receiv'd, on Egypt's plains? 
 If yet remember'd Abercrombie's death? 
 If like a * soldier he resigned his breath ? 
 Ask him how Spencer led the fortieth on. 
 How Coote behav'd, and Hope, and Hutchinson. 
 
 Or ask Gaul's cavalry of Paget's lord ; 
 Ask then 'bout Kerrison, 'bout Craufurd's 
 
 sword ? 
 Ask if they feel inclin'd to Jly once more. 
 In quaking droves to fly appall'd fvom'\ four ^ 
 Or, \( their fleeting memories grant them aid. 
 Enquire if i/et forgotten Hill's brigade? 
 That night, when by their ablest chieftains led. 
 By numbers, by position seconded ; 
 
 * Vide Sir R. Wilson's account of the memorable Twen. 
 ty-first. 
 
 + Lieutenant-colonel Kerrison and Captain Crawfurd, of 
 the 7th hussars, accompanied by two dragoons, in Spain, 
 charged a body of thirteen French cavalry, killed four of 
 them, made four prisoners, and completely dispersed the 
 residue. > Ji^u . ^4t -qo
 
 43 
 
 Their vaunting shouts the trembling heav'ns 
 
 convuls'd. 
 And thrice they charg'd, and thrice were shame- 
 fully repuls'd ! 
 Yes, comrades ! trust me, Britons are the 
 same, -* 
 
 As when their Edzvard led them on to fame j A 
 As when the Lion of the Richard line, ^^ 
 
 Fought at their head, and rescued Palestine. 
 
 And O, continue thus! intrepid band ! ^ 
 
 Thus ever guard, protect your native land : 
 By all that should the warrior's breast allure. 
 By Moore's immortal mem'ry I conjure ! 
 By him whose love you all were wont to share. 
 Who died to save the heroes in his care 1 
 O, let his image in your bosoms reign ! 
 His bright example ever there remain. 
 Like him your fame, your duty learn to prize; 
 Like him be dreadful to your enemies ; 
 Like him be proud to meet the brave man's 
 
 fate; 
 Be bold like him, like him be temperate; 
 Like him, forbear to question or dispute 
 That will 'tis your's alone to execute;
 
 44 
 
 Bear in your minds, that his heroic soul 
 Was yet so meek, so patient of controul, 
 *That, though depriv'd of what his sov'reign 
 
 gave. 
 Because no faction's tool, no party's slave; 
 Though told to follow where he once had led. 
 And three less skilful plac'd above his head. 
 When press'd by all around at once to fly 
 From such unmerited indignity, 
 He nobly answer'd to the harsh demand, 
 " Behold an ensign ! if my king command !" 
 
 Soldiers ! let his example be your pride. 
 Your conduct prove, that not in vain lie died ; 
 His memo'ry worship, all his actions scan. 
 And strive to imitate this trueborn Englishman. 
 Then when posterity records the deed, 
 How will your children's children, as they read, 
 Although subdued, whate'er may be their fate. 
 How will their bosoms beat to emulate ? 
 
 * This authenticated fact is, perhaps, one of the noblest 
 traits in his or, indeed, any other hero's character, eve*' 
 knawm
 
 45 
 
 " Mark," they will cry, " how Britons once 
 
 could fight! 
 " How once our fathers struggled for their right ! 
 *' Behold how Englishmen, of old, behav'd! 
 '^ And shall their sons remain enchain'd? en- 
 
 slav'd? 
 " No ! let us rise at once, and spurn our chains, 
 *^ Prove that their blood yet animates our veins; 
 " Abjure a state, forbad by Heav'n's decree, 
 *' And if we perish, let us perish free ! 
 " Like Nelson fall, like Abercrombie die, 
 *^ Like Moore expire, amid the shouts of vie-- 
 
 tory!" 
 
 END OF THE PREFATORY REFLECTION*.
 
 PURSUITS OF FASHION. 
 
 Having thus. Readers ! given to you my opi- 
 nions on the case before us, let me now pro- 
 ceed to call ivitnesses, and prove the facts as 
 above stated; which I shall do by describing 
 
 THE THREE SETS OF LONDON. 
 
 1. THE FINE MAN, OR BUCK OF THE FIRST 
 
 SET. 
 
 2. THE COFFEE-HOUSE CORNET, OR BUCK OF 
 
 THE SECOND SET. 
 
 3. THE KNOWING MAN, OR BUCK OF THE 
 
 TURF.
 
 ..'i m) 
 
 -tJiS^)^g(lB..-. 

 
 49 
 THE FINE MAN, 
 
 OR 
 
 BUCK OF THE FIRST SET, 
 
 In the following character, and indeed the next to it, the 
 r Author has been guided in the metre, chiefly by his ear; 
 and on referring to Swift, Jennings, Walcot, Anstey, and 
 others who have written in the same style, he finds their 
 practice justifies him.. ..In fact, lines the most correct in 
 metre, are, not unfrequently, in this sort of poetry, the 
 most inharmonious. 
 
 THE FINE MAN. 
 
 *' 'Twixt his finger and his thumb he held 
 *' A pouncet-box, which erer and anon 
 ** He gaye his nose, and took't away again." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 *' IPSE LOQUITUR." 
 
 Jl LEBEIANS avaunt ! I have altered my plan, 
 Metamorpbos'd completely, behold A FINE 
 
 MAN! 
 That is, throughout Town, I am grown quite the 
 
 rage. 
 
 The meteor of Fashion, the Buck of the age. 
 

 
 m 
 
 Politeness, of course, having thrown on the 
 
 shelf, 
 I worship nor idol, nor God but myself: 
 I cringe to the Lord; pass, unnotic'd, the Mister, 
 Defraud my best friend, and intrigue with his 
 
 sister; ^ 
 
 No more in dull study my time I employ. 
 No bookworms molest me, no pedants annoy ; 
 Each hour of my life passes happy and gay. 
 Turning day into night, and night into day. 
 In the season, I deign to awake about five. 
 Though with so many aches, I am scarcely 
 
 alive : 
 If invited to dinner, of course, they must wait. 
 When six is their hour, I lounge in about 
 
 eight; 
 With my coat flying off, appear crabbed and 
 
 surly. 
 And damn the low custom of dining so early. 
 At the dp era or play to some box I repair 
 Of a grandee of rank, who is not to be there, 
 
 Qui capit, ille facit.
 
 51 
 
 And extended at length, I survey the dull scene. 
 Without one idea what the acting can mean. 
 But because it's the best place I know " to be 
 
 But at balls and assemblies my principal 
 
 sway. 
 It is there I'm at home, and have all my own 
 
 way; 
 What rout can be decent, what party can 
 
 shine. 
 If absent the hopes of the Butterfly line ? 
 
 When a liveri'ed slave my arrival declares. 
 How the footmen re-echo my name up the 
 
 stairs ! 
 What crowding and jostling to get a side-view 
 Of my Petersham breeches, and coat of f^ty- 
 
 blue ! 
 
 * Verbatim. 
 
 + The partiality of this set to that colour for their habits, 
 is doubtless intended either to impress upon the minds of 
 plebeian beholders an exalted idea of their own consequence, 
 or to prove that their conceptions are as superior to copimon 
 ones, as the sky is to the earth. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 
 
 As I enter the room, what awhisp'ring is heard. 
 
 My rivals astonished scarce utter a word : 
 
 " How charming, (cry all,) how enchanting a 
 fellow, 
 
 " How neat are those smallclothes, how killingli/ 
 yellow /" 
 
 Not for worlds would I honour these plebs with a 
 smile, 
 
 Thpugh bursting with pride and delight all the 
 while; 
 
 So I turn to my cronies (a much honour'd few). 
 
 Crying, " S r m, how goes it ? Ah ! Duchess, 
 how do? 
 
 " Ton my life, yonder's B uf ty and Br ke, 
 and A g le, 
 
 " S^-^fd, JVtmld, Ln, and old cod- 
 ger Crl-^le." 
 Now though from this style of address it ap- 
 pears. 
 
 That these folks I have known for at least Jifty 
 years. 
 
 The fact is, my friends, that I scarcely know one; 
 
 A mere "fagon de parler" the way of the ton, 
 
 3
 
 55- 
 
 What though they dislike it, I answer my ends. 
 Country gentlemen stare, and suppose them my 
 friends. 
 But my beautiful taste (as indeed you will 
 guess) 
 Is manifest most in my toilet and dress ; 
 My neckcloth, of couite, forms my principal care. 
 For by that we criterions of elegance swear y 
 And costs me, each morning, some hours of 
 
 flurry. 
 To make it appear to be tied in a hurry : 
 My boot-tops, those unerring marks of a blade. 
 With champaigne are polish'd, and/jd-acA marma- 
 lade : 
 And a violet coat, closely copied from B ng; / 
 With a cluster of seals, and a large diamond 
 
 ring; 
 And troisiemes of buckskin, bewitchingly large. 
 Give the finishing strokes to the " par/ait 
 ouvrage." 
 W^ith the women ^I need not declare, I sup- 
 pose. 
 That they call me the devil himself in men's 
 clothes.
 
 54 
 
 " He has so much to say, (cries each simpering 
 maid;) ' '."S 
 
 " Lauk ! how witty he was about that lemonade ; 
 
 " How he jokes about candlesticks ! don't he, 
 papa ? 
 
 " And his teeth how dehghtful, how charming, 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 In short with soft speeches these creatures so 
 cram me. 
 
 That nothing remains but to grin and cry, ''damn 
 me" 
 
 As for love I conceive it a mere empty bubble. 
 
 And the fruits of success never worth half the 
 trouble; 
 
 Yet as Fashion decrees it, I bear the fatigue. 
 
 That the world may suppose me ^' a man of in- 
 trigue.^* 
 
 If I chance to succeed, which is rarely the case. 
 
 Why, of course, my good fortune is wrote in my 
 face ; 
 
 But if fate throws me foul of some troublesome 
 beauty, 
 
 Who acts on a thing you Plebeians call duty, i
 
 55 
 
 Assur'd that the fair-one herself cannot tell, 
 A nod or a wink does my business as well : 
 I'm publicly rallied, wish'd joy of my fun ; 
 The newspapers get it and then the thing *s 
 
 done! 
 Plebeians should pay for Patricians' keep. 
 So I usu'ally manage to live pretty cheaps 
 On some hundreds a year I make no little show. 
 And discharge all my debts except those which 
 
 I owe. 
 My virtues are num'rous; I ne'er tread on 
 
 toes. 
 Because I'm aware it might injure my nose ; 
 As for courage ^What is it ? A mere pi|Pch of 
 
 snuff, 
 / can frighten the women, that's surely enough. 
 I ckn brandish my knuckles, protest they are 
 
 weighty. 
 And shew how I once drubb'd a watchman of 
 
 eighty. 
 I can talk about scents, can descant on perfume, 
 I can lead down a dance, and bewitch a whole 
 
 room 5
 
 56 
 
 And if no one of fashion or rank should be pre- 
 sent. 
 Gad ! I sometimes am vulgar enough to be 
 
 pleasant. 
 Howe'er, then, Plebeians may rail or abuse. 
 This, this is the life that a hero should chuse ; 
 It is us who do honour to Albion's name. 
 Teach her senators sense, lead her armies to 
 ,i r fame. r 
 
 And hence, Britons ! the cause of that wond'rous 
 
 success. 
 Which, of late years, your enemies even confess : 
 What is it that makes you so dreaded abroad ? 
 Makes your money so call'd for, your cash so 
 
 implor'd ? 
 Increases your comforts, curtails your taxation. 
 Your property guards, and enriches your nation ? 
 What makes you esteem'xi, too, in all foreign 
 
 courts. 
 Makes them welcome your shipping and trade 
 
 to their ports ? 
 What can cause, I repeat, all this good to 
 
 your land. 
 But the manner your councils are governed and 
 
 plann'd?
 
 57 
 
 And hence 'tis an axiom, an evident truth, , , 
 That the cause of the whole is this school for your 
 
 youth. 
 Then may Fashion long thrive, may our striplings 
 
 of rank. 
 Be encourag'd in folly, indulg'd in each prank -^ 
 Till from playing at marbles, or trundling their 
 
 hoops, 
 They are plac'd at the head of our vet'ran troops ! 
 No alarms then will stop them, no cautions im- 
 pede. 
 Though myriads may tumble, tho' hecatombs 
 
 bleed : 
 To heroes like these, what can signify lives ? 
 What are balls, but mere playthings for cricket 
 
 and jives ? 
 It is vict'ory they seek, though their army they 
 
 lose. 
 They obtain it and .... cannon re-echo the 
 
 news ! ! 
 John Bull is delighted, that excellent man. 
 Who lives but for pleasure, and laughs whilst he 
 
 can J
 
 58 
 
 Of one fact well assured, that his troops gain'd 
 the day, 
 
 That like tigers they fought, and that none ran 
 away, 
 
 (So dispatches inform him, so newspapers say;) 
 
 This is all that he wishes to know of the case ; 
 
 How the vet'rans that fell he can ever replace. 
 
 How the few that survive can be ever brought 
 back? 
 
 Or how Prudence could justify such an attack ? 
 
 These are questions unthought of, unnotic'd by- 
 John, 
 
 We have cudgell'd the French, we have drubbed 
 three for one: 
 
 v.> , k 
 
 And we*ll drub them, cries he, wheresoever we 
 
 meet. 
 So huzza 1 and huzza ! roar the boys in the 
 
 street ! 
 But, indulging so long in this whimsical flight, 
 I forget all the things, that are stirring to-night ; 
 Let me see what is first ? Madam Chalk's 
 
 masquerade ; 
 Of her picking my pockets, I*m not much afraid
 
 59 
 
 Then there's Scarecrow at home full of fusses 
 
 and cares f 
 And frightened to death for her new-painted stairs : 
 Squire Peppercorn too, holds this eve'ning his 
 
 court. 
 Where the guns will be let off in praise of his 
 
 port. 
 Then a soiiper at Nettlebed-house I declare, 
 Broomhead, Bigwig, and Bagtail are sure to be 
 
 there ; 
 
 names ever dear ! super-excellent trio ! 
 
 1 haste to embrace you ! Plebeians, A-Dio ! 
 
 Exit.
 
 vU^-Jlt
 
 THE COFFEE-HOUSE CORNET, 
 
 OR 
 
 BUCK OF THE SECOND SET. 
 
 ** Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi ; 
 
 ** Et quorum pars magna /ui."- 
 
 Virgil. 
 
 The Author has many apologies to make to his readers for 
 haying introduced into the following Character, expres- 
 sions, which may, at firstyiew, appear improbably vulgar 
 but if the said reader will deign to walk into a certain 
 Coffee-house in Bond Street, in the month of July, he 
 will be convinced that 1 have rather stepp'd short of, thaa 
 exceeded those limits, which the deity 'yclept Slano, 
 prescribes to his Votaries. He has however affixed notes, 
 which h* trusts will explain any words their uncoachmarim 
 lik capacities might prevent their comprehendiog.
 
 62 
 
 THE / _, 
 
 COFFEE HOUSE CORNET, 
 
 " IPSE LOQUITUR." 
 
 Be silent the Coffee-room ! hush'd every noise ! 
 Stop drawing that '^Soda ! keep quiet those boys ! . 
 Attend me, ye -^ knowing-ones , gamblers and. 
 
 Greeks ! 
 'T'ls ys>^v pidg^o^g,, yiour prey, *tis the Cornet who 
 
 speaks I' ^'-^ '-p ' 
 
 ->-_ -_- .''<;i^ ' ^ 
 
 * Soda.'] This beverage, so fashionable lioW-a-days among 
 the frequenters of Coffee-houses, is a complete emblem of 
 the persons who usually drink it vh. a co7hsequentially~ 
 packed something, promising to afford much gratification, but 
 w^hich, on experiment, disappoints the palate, evaporates in 
 a noisy and disagreeable manner, and proves, in short, in lieu 
 of a luxury, the greatest of annoyances. 
 
 + " Knozeing-oneSj gamblers and Greeks!"] These 
 
 are synonymous terms, but as the latter is the one I 
 
 shall in future make use of, and vrhich is commonly ap. 
 
 plied to the respectable beings above hinted at ; I shall 
 
 2
 
 63 
 
 Ye landlords, attendants, and slaves of my will, 
 Be ye mute as if going to pocket your *bill : 
 
 hortly digress, and attempt to describe what th Modern 
 Greek is, what are his pursuits, his manners, and the marks 
 which distinguish him from the rest of society. 
 
 The Modern Greek, if he does not possess all the attri-' 
 butes of the ancient one, at least lays claim to that quality 
 for which the latter was ever so celebrated ; namely, cuiu 
 ning and wariness : and though he cannot boast much re- 
 semblance to Achilles, Ajax, Patroclus, or Nestor, either in 
 courage, strength, fidelity, or sageness ; he is nevertheless 
 a close copier of the e^ua/Zy renowned and more successful 
 chief of Ithaca. He is a man habited like^a gentleman, to 
 be found in most societies, and who subsists by unfair play 
 at cards and dice; and defrauding those with whom he 
 professes intimacy. 
 
 The following requisites to form a good Greek, are taken 
 from the mouth of a celebrated professor of the art, who 
 revealed its mysteries to a young friend of the Author's, in 
 hopes to convert him into a practitioner : but who was 
 simple enough to reject the proposition with horror and in- 
 dignation ; nay carried his ungentlemanlike anger so far, 
 as to expose, on every occasion, the man who so kindly en- 
 lightened him. 
 
 1. A Greek should resemble a wo/e, and be visible only 
 in the night season. 
 
 2. He should speak but seldom, and when he does, he 
 should deprecate jp/fly, and prove its dangerous tendencies. 
 When his game is mark' d down, he should not appear over, 
 eager to destroy it; bat take especial care to inveigle it by 
 allowing some temporary successes before it is Jinally hit.
 
 64 
 
 Ye vagrants, who once were appalVd at tny nod, 
 Cooks, coachmen, and porters ! give ear to your 
 God: 
 
 3. lie should at all times, in private^ practise with card* 
 and dice ; in order to give his digits a proper degree of 
 agilitij. "No art (said the Professor above alluded to) 
 *' requires so much practice as Greehery. Old as I am, 
 *' I frequently bungle in nicking the seven ; nay even on 
 ** that night wherein we hit the Staffordshire Cornet, I 
 *' was egregiously clumsy in dealing that last and decisive 
 " FLUSH which did the business : and had it not been, that he 
 *^ was more taken up with looking at himself^ than the cards 
 '* he must have discovered all." 
 
 4. The Greek should work (ita dicunt) with a younger 
 man than himself, who was once . pidgeon, but is now a' 
 nante, that is, has been enlighten'' d, and will not peachy 
 consequently is an excellent decoy to others. 
 
 5. The Greek should ascertain well the property of the 
 pidgeon he intends to pluck, before he commences opera, 
 tions : but when that necessary ceremony has taken place, 
 it behoves him to affect the utmost liberality as to time, SfC 
 nay even to proffer pecuniary assistance ; by which, if ac- 
 cepted, it is probable he will obtain a legal security^ and 
 can fasten on his prey when he pleases. 
 
 6. He should have had once the rank of Captain, which 
 will be of great use in introducing him into society ; and if . 
 any regimental peculation should unpleasantly be brought 
 on the carpet; he must place his hand on the left side of his 
 breast (^not the right), and declaim loudly against th ca-
 
 65 
 
 Ye legs, who so often my pockets have pick'd. 
 Be ye silent and still, as if f seven were nick'd : 
 
 lumny of the world, interspersing at the same time seyeral 
 common.place expressions, such as: " Good God! / 
 knozBy exactly so, precisely, says 1, devilish good 
 joke,' says he," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 7. The Greek should gire frequent dinner parties, and 
 have particular wine for par^zcw^ar companies. He should 
 be able to bear a quantity of that bererage himself, and 
 know how to appear to drink, when in reality passing the 
 bottle ; he should at all times, when a grand hit is not in- 
 tended, refuse to permit play of any kind taking place in hit 
 house. On a decisive night he should appear to be drunk 
 before any one else in the society, and should let his decoy 
 or partner pluck the pidgeon, whilst he himself is supposed 
 to be an equal loser to some one present, (of course) a con- 
 federate. 
 
 8. The Greek should not be afraid to fight a duel must 
 be able to bully if required, and in desperate (iass, such as 
 peaching, &c. not object to assassination. 
 
 0. Greeks meeting unexpectedly, should concert private 
 signals in the corner of the apartment. Fingers are admira. 
 ble at whist, or other games of cards, and may, by dexterous 
 performers, be so managed as to defy the closest scrutiny, 
 and appear to be naturally pliant, when in fact their move- 
 ments will decide the fate of a rubber. 
 
 Such, readers, are some few elements of this celebrated art, 
 as taught by the renowned Greek Professor, Captain Flay, 
 fair. The Author hopes he has said enough to prevent the 
 iftezperienced falling a snare to them. He is however now 
 
 F
 
 66 
 
 Ye votaries of love, who, so oft, young and old. 
 Have flown to the door, lest I stand in the cold : 
 ^e watchmen, whose sconces provokingly thick. 
 So oft have recoil'd from my knuckles and stick : 
 Ye bucks, who have ap'd me, forbear to abuse. 
 The being from whom you once copied your 
 \ shoes : 
 
 compiling a treatise which will contain all the names of the 
 Greeks, their places of abode, and characters, to which he 
 means to affix an essay on Greekery, in the manner of Pope's 
 on Man it will commence as follows : 
 
 *' Awake, ray Playfair! leave all common dice 
 To Tulgar wits, and low-bred avarice : 
 Let us, since play will nothing more supply, 
 Than just to deal afiush^ or cog a die. 
 Explain what the unenlightened call a run^ 
 A curious theme, but not without its fun." &c. &c. &G. 
 
 * ^^ Pocket your bill.^''] Well may the landlords above 
 alluded to, exclaim with the eloquent Roman of old " O 
 rare rarissime l''^ 
 
 + '* Seven were nzcA;' J."] An occurrence which generally 
 loses the money of the profess'd players at hazard^ alitor, 
 the legt. 
 
 X " Copied your shoes."] " Non sum qualis eram^** 
 way the Cornet now exclaim with great veracity.
 
 67 
 
 Whose praises you once universally sang 
 As pattern of fashion, professor of "^slangy 
 And monarch supreme of the Coffee-house 
 
 gang; 
 Be ye still as the grave, whilst I deign to relate. 
 The cause of my splendour, the way to be great -, 
 My own chequer'd life condescend to unfold. 
 And give a receipt of more value than gold ; 
 Reveal t'ye the spot, where the graces all dwell. 
 And point out the path like myself, to excell. 
 
 My Father, a comical countryfied prig. 
 Was a Priest by profession, and sported a wig ; 
 Of me he was fond, and, the best of the joke. 
 Tried to keep me at home, like a pig in a poke; 
 Of domestic feUcity preach'd a vast deal : 
 But he soon found me awkward to \manage at 
 zoheelj 
 
 * ^^ Slang.^^^ Nonsensical expressions lately crept into 
 Fashion, with obscure meanings, chiefly calculated to mak 
 illiterate persons stare. Vide p. 6. 
 
 t " Manage at K>Aee/."] A very coachmanlike and ap- 
 propriate metaphor* 
 
 F2
 
 '' ;S^ r- 
 
 And M^mma, too, so plagu'd him, and swore 
 
 t*was a shame. 
 That a lad of twj/ spunk should be coop'd up so 
 
 tame ; 
 That, at length, he agreed, and I cut these old 
 
 *spoons. 
 And am now what you see me, a Sub* of Dror 
 
 goons. '"^ ^"^ 
 
 Er^^: started, old dad preach'd me plenty of 
 
 sense. 
 Prated much about morals, and more of expence ; 
 " Twelve children, I knew, were the fruits of his 
 
 marriage, 
 ** To buy my commission had cost him his car- 
 
 Yet with tears he protested, (an ignorant ninny ) 
 That George should, at all times, command his 
 
 last guinea; 
 That for comforts or income, HE ne*er should 
 
 repine. 
 Though he turn'd off his Curate, and gave up his 
 
 wine : 
 
 * " Spoons."'] The inrariable appellatioQ giyen to qmzm 
 zkil people.
 
 69 
 
 So, two litrtiffred per annum {to the waiter) 
 
 " you son of a b ch, 
 " If you dont bring that turtle, I'll bother your 
 
 breech; 
 " Tell my servants I want them d'ye near ! m 
 
 a trice ; 
 
 L V*^ 'i:i '"' 
 Mind the venison is done and the champaign 
 
 in ice. 
 Your pardon, good people, I really should crave. 
 That waiter's so dull, such a thick-headed knave. 
 Upon joining my corps, (to continue my text, ) 
 To get rid of Old Time I was plaguily vex't: 
 There were bridges */o spit over, fruit-shops of 
 
 course. 
 And I purchas'd a high-mettled thorough-bred 
 
 horse i 
 Whom I took care to shew off in all his quick 
 
 paces. 
 Agreeably splashing the passengers' faces. 
 
 * " To spit over.^^'\ A yery militartf employment, at 
 least, a Tery common one amongst military lounge rj.
 
 70 
 
 At night I would reel to the ball, from the mess. 
 And astonish their minds with my glittering 
 
 dress ; 
 If I chose not to capers for something to do. 
 To their card-table lounge, play at halfpenny-loo. 
 Make a terrible noise with my helmet and sword. 
 And act as if Nature had made me their lord ; 
 Upsetting their scores, at the moment I thun- 
 dered. 
 Your six-pence be d nd, sir! Til set you a hu7i- 
 dredr 
 Returning to barracks, insult all I meet. 
 Make all possible uproar, in eyery street ; 
 And if summon'd next morning, at suit of the 
 
 lamps. 
 Call the court an assemblage of insolent scampSy 
 Then sit myself down in an Alderman's place. 
 Crack jokes on the Mayor, and make fun of his 
 
 mace. 
 But to dub me completely a " Gargon de guerre,** 
 An intrigue yet was wanting, an ogling affair, 
 A sort of atchievement, a species oi feat. 
 Which alone makes a Subaltern's honour com- 
 plete.
 
 71 
 
 This I quickly commenc'd, with a cherry -cheek'd 
 
 maid. 
 Who was silly enough to believe all I said ; 
 She was lovely and young, had a bosom like 
 
 snow. 
 And was going to marry some shop-keeping beau : 
 But I soon put a spoke in the clodhopper's wheel. 
 First induc'd her to smile, then to listen, then 
 
 feel ; V 
 
 Cut numberless jokes on her countryfied swain. 
 And with visions of grandeur bewilder'd her 
 
 brain ! 
 Till vanquish'd, no doubt, by my /rhetoric and 
 
 charms. 
 She gave both her honour and heart to my 
 
 arms. 
 And, would you believe it ? she's now on the 
 
 town. 
 For I met her last eve'ning as drunk as a clown. 
 And she bother'd my soul out to give her a 
 
 crown ! 
 The next step I took, to establish my fame. 
 And prove to the world, I was thoroughly gamej
 
 Was Jo look out ^ome nearsighted, dastardly 
 
 spark. 
 And blaze at his carcase, by way of a mark. 
 I waited some time, for my quarters were dull. 
 Of tradesmen, mechanics, and shopkeepers full ; 
 My comrades all men too unpleasant to handle, 
 (Hibernians and fellows who snuffed out a candle,) 
 Till I fix*d on the surgeon, a man with a wife. 
 And some brats, who depended for bread oji his 
 
 life. 
 One evie'ning I swore he had trod on my toes. 
 And before he could answer, had hold of his 
 
 nose. 
 The Pleb was astonish'd made numerous faces, 
 I rav'd about honour, and blood, and six paces ; 
 Declar'dthat the man, who on my toes had trod. 
 Should be food for the wormS^ I would pink him 
 
 byG! 
 "When strange to declare t'ye, this insolent quiz 
 Keplied to my friend with a very grave phiz. 
 That his hfe was not food for each juvenile whim. 
 That the laws of his country would ever rule 
 
 Jiivi i
 
 73 
 
 And that none which he kneiv, sanction'd such 
 
 an attempt. 
 So all he ccmld give me, was sovereign contempt. 
 Of course he was posted, and I in a pet, 
 Declar'd I should kick ev'ery surgeon I met j 
 Swore no longer Pd stay where revenge, was de- 
 
 barr*d, .r, ..' 
 
 And where honour was dealt out, like tape, by 
 
 the yard ; 
 So applied for some leave, and to end the dispute. 
 My colo'nel dispatch'd me to town to recruit. 
 
 In London behold me ! Not long was I there. 
 Ere my manners and equipage made people 
 
 stare. 
 " Who is he? Whence comes he ?*' repeated each 
 
 mouth, 
 " Does his property lie in the North or the South ?*' 
 " In the North (cries my valet *J, I'm credibly 
 
 told, 
 <' When of age, he'll inherit whole oceans of 
 
 gold. 
 
 * *' Cries my valet, ^^"j Nothing can be more lamentable, 
 r is more ruinous to London tradesmen, than the extreme
 
 74 
 
 " But his friends keep him shortish at present, it 
 seems 
 
 ** Old guardians are cautious, you know, in ex- 
 tremes.'* 
 This axiom admitted, my doorway was lin'd 
 
 With tradesmen of every species and kind; 
 
 All anxious to spirit the captain to order ; 
 
 " O, pray look at this. Sir ! How beauteous a 
 border." 
 
 " These seals you must take and this diamond- 
 set comb ; 
 
 " And this watch on my word. Sir ! I had it 
 from Rome " 
 
 I nod my applause, and the things are sent home. 
 
 All the clubs that were primes* I got into, of 
 course. 
 
 The Fly-hy-NightSy Clippers, the Screivs, and 
 Four-Horse ; 
 
 carelessness with which they gire credit. The assertions of 
 a servant, or the commonest and most unfounded reports, 
 will frequently procure it to any amount. How often does 
 this credit ruin the person who so wantonly gives it ! How 
 often does it destroy the principles of the person to whom it 
 ii given ! 
 
 * " Pr/ie."] Any thing peculiarly knowing.
 
 75 
 
 And my dress I took care should be strikingli/ 
 
 new. 
 And display all the emblems of each in a view. 
 
 As my dress has long grac'd a particular tribe. 
 With your leave, I'll digress, and attempt to de- 
 scribe. 
 First, my coat, like myself, is the emblem of taste. 
 Large buttons all o'er it, a curious long waist. 
 And a collar which comes, o'er my head, to a 
 
 peak. 
 And I think I can say is completely unique. 
 Round my neck is a shawl, worth, they tell me, 
 
 a hundred. 
 From India or Turkey most probably plunder'd. 
 Which spread o'er my bosom, in truth, is, when 
 
 drest. 
 The principal cover'ing I wear to my breast; 
 And serves to display all my broaches upon : 
 For broaches, with us, are criterions of ton. 
 First, to prove my regard for the knights of 
 
 the thon^, 
 Here's the mail-coach and four, spanking rarely 
 
 along ;
 
 Then the Fly-by-Night emblem, an owl's dismial 
 
 face. 
 And below it, two tits in a neck-and-neck race; 
 And next, from our modern Entellus's school. 
 Two men breaking sconces according to rule : 
 Underneath them, a culprit, his neck at full 
 
 stretch. 
 With a 'kerchief of hemp, a la mode de Jack 
 
 Ketch. 
 Which, I think, of my taste would convince any 
 
 jury, 
 And proves me, at least. Hand ignarus futtiri. 
 And last, but not leasts see the sove'reign of evil. 
 By priests yclept Beelzebub, vulgo the Devil* 
 
 Pantaloons richly lac'd, of ca3rulean dye, 
 Embelhsh the shape of each elegant thigh ; 
 And my boots, made of leather from Spain, I am 
 
 told. 
 Have the spurs fasten'd on them of solidest gold. 
 
 * *' The DeozT'^jLet the Bond-street jewellers, &c. con- 
 tradict this list of broaiches if they can.
 
 77 
 
 As for seals and such gewgaws, my watch or its 
 
 chain* . ....J.;: ,:; L. :, . . n^'iu -.Vx 
 
 Or their number, their nature, or weight, to ex- 
 plain. 
 Were an useless, indeed an impossible task ; 
 Crony Wirgman may probably know, if you ask. 
 Then, my snuff-boxes really such numbers 
 
 have I, 
 I can scarcely remember them all ; but 1*11 try : 
 Exclusive of that with a comical spring. 
 Whence the devil jumps upj and his satellites sing. 
 And that which I gave to my slave, because dirty, 
 (A gold one enamell'd,) I think there are thirty I 
 Thus accoutred, equipp'd, I stir out about five. 
 On foot or on horseback, more commonly drive; 
 First I lounge to the tavern, to see who is there. 
 And amuse myself making the multitude stare : 
 It is charming to hear them all ask, who I am ? 
 And the clergymen turn up their eyes as I damn ! 
 Here I loll, o'er a chair or a table astride. 
 And roar out for soda to cool my inside ; 
 Send the waiters on errands, and swear for their 
 
 pains. 
 If they \o\iev Jive seconds I'll blow out their brains;
 
 78 
 
 Pull tooth-picks to pieces, squirt spittle abroad 
 
 Through a hole in my tooth, which is purposely 
 
 hor'd. 
 
 And if thither some infantry sub' should resort. 
 
 Who has order'd tough steaks and 21. pint of black 
 
 port, 
 How he stares at my attitudes, manners, and 
 
 dress ! 
 Mayhap sets off at speed, to his Colchester mess. 
 And endeavours to ape me : of course, he must fail. 
 And exeunt his hopes, with his person, to jail ! 
 Then as duelling now is completely a sciencCy 
 And sets the Old Bailey itself at defiance i 
 Now Hibernians are met with in eve'ry street, 
 *Tis as needful to know how to shoot, as to eat \ 
 So I lounge to my gun-maker's, stick up a mark. 
 And blaze at a wafer or shiUing till dark : 
 And hence, in some popping which fell in my 
 
 way. 
 On account of three women I've carried away, 
 (Two frail ones, who me to their spouses preferr'd. 
 And a boarding-school chicken who trusted my 
 
 word ), 
 I've been fortunate each time in winging my bird;
 
 79 
 
 And although to dispatch one has ne'er been my 
 
 lot, 
 I am pretty well mark'd as a dangerous shot. 
 In the evening, if nothing more prime 's to be 
 done. 
 No hop going on, or no prospect of /m. 
 No chance of a kick-up or row being plann'd. 
 Any cash in my pocket, and if / can stand. 
 Why, I order my carriage, and drive to the helly^ 
 Where the Captain's appearance makes no little 
 
 swell; 
 Here, I seize on the bones, f have at all in the ring. 
 And with " seven *s the main^^ make the neigh- 
 bourhood sing. 
 If I lose, I protest 'tis a palpable theft. 
 And securing the poker, let fly right and left : 
 Call them villains and thieves, and society's dregs j 
 And, in short, as we term it, play hell with the legsl 
 Then smashing the lamps, as I fly up the street. 
 And, of course, all the heads of the watchmen I 
 meet; 
 
 * The abode of the blacklegs, ^here their nocturnal de- 
 predations are committed. 
 + " Bones,"2 Th dice.
 
 BO 
 
 Into Steevens's rush, on the crockery leap. 
 Shy plates at the waiters for daring to sleep, 
 Order *' * pickled champaigne and an ostrich en- 
 tire," 
 Swear I'll shoot them all rounds if I've not my 
 
 desire ; 
 Turn the cock of the kettle that boils on the fire; 
 And flying about, like a madman at large. 
 Snatch the bugle, and sound ** the Reveille and 
 
 Charger 
 Fill the landlord with terror, the house with af- 
 
 fright, '!'.'"' 
 
 Roaring *' Node Volamus /" we fly in the night ! 
 Then as bed is a bore, to their lodgings I go. 
 Knock up Playfair, and Shuffle, and Scoreall, 
 
 and Co. 
 And with them at a whist-table keep up the hall. 
 Till daylight informs me Fve lost to them all! 
 
 Thus flies my existence, one round of variety. 
 Enchanting alike to myself and society. 
 
 It is true, that a certain coxcombical set, 
 I have never been able to league with, as yet ; 
 
 * Verbatim, 
 
 2
 
 81 
 
 Nay, although 1 have frequently made the at- 
 tempt. 
 Like the surgeon, they treat me with sovereign 
 
 contempt J 
 If we meet in the street, at the opera or play, 
 These insolent slaves look a different way. 
 
 But di^fig for such coxcombs, such tea-drinking 
 fops ! 
 I am greater than they are, at hells and at hops : 
 Like them I've a sety and like them I profess 
 To be something uncommon in manners and 
 
 dress : 
 And assemblies there are, and genteel ones, I 
 
 vow. 
 Where my smile has been sought for, like But- 
 
 terfiifs bow. 
 Lady Scarecrozv, whose spouse kept in order the 
 
 Hindoos ; 
 And the fail -one, you see sticking up in shop- 
 windows ; 
 With the lovely Briseis of Jerningham-place, 
 All swear by my figure and doat on my face. 
 And when Mother M'Tabbart, old Bolus's wife. 
 Gives a rout to comvince us she knows vat is life /
 
 82 
 
 I am sure to be ask'd, me she dare not leave 
 
 out ; 
 For if 7 kept away, what becomes of her rout?-i*J 
 Hail, charming assemblies ! No stifF-neck'd for- 
 mality; 
 No semblance of pleasure, without the reality : 
 All is extacy here ; and when supper is done, i 
 Och ! the women stay wid us, and kick up such 
 
 fun ! 
 And mamma looking on, as they're tickled and 
 
 squaz'dj ^ 
 
 Xries, " How charming it is to see yoiing paple 
 
 plas'd r 
 But now. I'll acquaint you, to finish my song, 
 (Which already, I'm fearful, has lasted too long). 
 What occurr'd t'other morn, as at breakfast I sat. 
 And was giving some orders about a new hat. 
 
 My door was thrust open, and in walk'd a slave. 
 An insolent, ill-dress'd, uncouth-looking knave, -^ 
 Who seem'd unawares of the verb yclept shave ; 
 Whose garments of fustian were cover'd with 
 
 grease, ^' 
 
 And whose face seem'd to say, " T dm licensed to 
 
 fleece.**
 
 8S 
 
 First, he pull*d out a paper, which he call'd a 
 
 writ, 
 On the which, in large letters, was " Greetings to 
 
 wits'' 
 And by which he was ordered my person to bring 
 Into Westminster Hall, there to look at the king : 
 And herein was commanded by no means to fail, 
 So requested to know whom I fix*d on for bailj 
 Begg'd I'd not be alarm'd, but would make up 
 
 my mind. 
 As his pocket contain'd twenty more of the kind. 
 Soon I learnt that a tradesman of mine, a sharp 
 
 fool, 
 ^y principle cautious, suspicious by rule, 
 Chanc'd to go into Yorkshire, some visits to pay. 
 And so thought he would look where my pro- 
 perty lay; 
 But found out with horror, said property small. 
 And plac'd in a parish call'd No Where at all. 
 So back he return'd, nearly murder'd his hack. 
 And plac'd all my tradesmen at once on my back. 
 Now, to tell you the truth, this is rather a bore. 
 For those scoundrels are now always watching 
 my door; 
 
 G2
 
 84 
 
 And my slave, very often, whilst dressing my hair. 
 Is oblig'd to desist, to enquire " Who's there?" 
 So to keep me from what my attorney calls 
 
 jaily 
 My day passes mostly in hunting for bail. 
 But at night, when the hell-hounds of justice are 
 
 gone. 
 When my seals are arrang'd, and my chapeau- 
 
 bras on, 
 Once again I'm the leader of coffee-house ton: 
 Ambition, once more, takes her seat in my brain, 
 And the Fly-by-Night Richard^s himself once 
 
 again ! 
 Then a truce to reflection ! reflection ne*er ends: 
 After all, I can fly 'tis hwX^fixing one's friends. 
 Those trinkets and gewgaws, which stamp'd me 
 
 a blade. 
 Are yet in my drawers, tho' for none have I paid : 
 With these and my cornetcy turn'd into cash, 
 I can always continue to bluster and dash; 
 With these yet can live on a Clipperlike plan. 
 And astonish their minds in the Island of Man ! 
 Or Scotland can fly to, my creditors chouse. 
 And live the amazement of Holyrood-house.
 
 S5 
 
 Or if Britain I fly, where their d d legal code. 
 Appears likely all freedom or sense to explode. 
 After all, there's the service of France, and the 
 
 road. 
 Moreover, one night, o'er some Bvr gundy-cup. 
 Lord Scoreall declar'd, he would soon put me up 
 To his calling; elect me as one of the brothers; 
 And then I might live on the fortune of others. 
 Once again then, what good can it do us to think ? 
 Whilst we breathe, let us live ; whilst we live, let 
 
 us drink ! 
 Till my peepers* are clos*d, I will keep up the ball. 
 Like a hero IVe liv'd, like a hero I'll fall ! 
 At least I'll be happy till that period comes. 
 So, waiter ! more claret ! Who cares /f^r the bums? 
 
 [Exit, 
 
 * " PeepersJ*'''^ An elegant and expressire term for tke 
 eje.sight.
 

 
 87 
 
 THE 
 
 KNOWING MAN, 
 
 OR 
 
 BUCK OF THE TURF, 
 
 *-^ At bona pars hominum, decepta cupidiae falso, . 
 ** Nil satis est, inquit;" 
 
 m ii^v^is ;*rji; V- * HtX -ji^iiobacb. 
 
 THE KNOWING MAN. 
 
 " Is Heav'n relentless ? (cried Glenalvon's Lord), 
 " And is 't in vain invoked ? in vain implor'd ? 
 " Must I still weep ? and is this hapless life, 
 ** To endless mis'ry doom'd and endleiss strife ? 
 " Deceitful happiness I so long pursued, 
 " Wilt' still avoid me ? still my grasp elude? 
 " Those means, which all declare thy smiles at- 
 tain, 
 
 " All, all are mine ; but mine, alas, in vain ! 
 5
 
 88 
 
 " Wealth, rank, and boundless pow'r, in vain 
 
 unite, 
 " To yield me pleasure, or afford delight. 
 " In vain around me trembling minions wait, 
 " And from my lips submissive learn their fate; 
 " Surrounding slaves, in vain my palace fill, 
 ** And fly to act my scarcely utter'd will ; 
 " These envied toys give not domestic joy, 
 " My children still perplex me, still annoy; 
 <* My eldest offspring, once my proudest hope, 
 " Toev'ry passion gives unbridled scope: 
 " Each hour his phrenzied acts assail my ear; 
 " All tongues inform me of his vile career. 
 " Nor less unwise pursuits my girl engage, 
 " Whom once I fancied giv'n to sooth my age; 
 * Heedless of all parental love can say, j j ^| ., 
 ** In fashion's round she takes her headstrong 
 
 way, 
 "Nor stops to think how futile pomp and dress, 
 " How impotent to give her happiness ! 
 " Reflects not character must be their price, , , 
 ** And health and fame, the certain sacrifice ! . 
 
 " Is then this breast of ev*ri/ joy bereft? 
 " Of all depriv'd ? One pleasure yet is left;
 
 U9 
 
 ** One prospect yet remains, one hope of joy, ' 
 " And that in William rests, my youngest boy.l^ 
 
 " Yes! he was doubtless giv'n by pitying iat^, 
 " For all his parent's grief to compensate : 'r ^' ^ 
 " His future fame shall amply yet repay *i*M 
 *' The watchful care of many' an anxious day!' 
 
 " E'en now, methinks,withunrestrain'd delight, 
 " I view my child, at glory's utmost height j ' 
 " Whilst wond'ring senates 'round, his words at- 
 tend, '' Ua^nMO 
 " And even kings are proud to call him friend:'* 
 " O then ! when every grateful tongue repeats - 
 " The hero's exploits and intrepid feats, 
 *' What rapture then shall sparkle in this eye,'^- 
 ** This aged breast how throb with extacy ! ^ 
 " When shouting crowds attest what he has done, 
 ** And well-earn'd laurels deck Glenalvon's son !" 
 
 Illustrious youth ! for whom are plann'd these 
 schemes. 
 Whose future glories cause such golden dreams, ^ 
 Whose name has thus a parent's grief assuag'd. 
 How fly thy moments ? how art thou engag'd? 
 Say ! does thy mind a statesman's duty con ? 
 Do'st meditate on Chatham's mighty son ?
 
 90 
 
 Muse on- his merits, and resolve like ihim> 
 To soar superior to each party wiiirii; ; ' ' 
 To give thy time, if requisite^; thy blood, > ; 
 To gain one object that, thy country's good?<^ - 
 Do'st pant to snatch thy muoh-enduring land 
 From idiots' grasp, from that deluded band. 
 By wbom to ruin-s verge she now is hurl'd. 
 And, once more, make her mistress of the 
 -t:e^ft'^rid ? 
 
 Or do'st from Hector learn ** to guide the car, 
 ** To wheel and answer every call of wap ?>'* 
 Plaii schemes of conquest^ pace thy chamber 
 round, l^ilT '^ 
 
 And pant to heat the brazen trumpet sounds *'^ 
 
 Or, anxious only to instruct thy kind) 
 Do'st study Paley's ever pious mind ? -! - 
 
 Or brood o'er Euclid's page, and plodding pljr 
 Through all the mazes of geometry ?'K>itt*Tit 
 
 Art thus employ 'd ? On yonder couch re* 
 clin'd. 
 Behold the youth, in converse with his mind, ' 
 
 " Call of aar,*^'] Vide Hector's reply to Ajax, Iliad, 
 book 8.
 
 91 
 
 Around him cumb'rous volumes closely stow'dji 
 Bespeak the' apartment lit'rature's abodeirij \ C1f 
 And lo! he smiles no doubt^ some pleasing 
 , thought, h'Tr6jb;-V:Z 
 
 Caus'd by yon' book with which his mind seem* 
 
 frau^t. , 
 Approach we f and his meditations share. 
 In one so young, such application *s rareir 
 What broods he on ? his studies, MiKe, declare !' 
 No thoughts hke these^ ihe blushing Mus6 
 -Jilt ^jJKesi''Ml;f hum J J.-iff uoM Wim%mi^'yM^i\'V 
 No themes employ him such as you devise ; ' 
 No warlikfe plans, no legislative codes'^i ! <*if^'v>f.I 
 Are here : those volumes* Weatherby2iuA Rhodes. 
 Yon' shelves, on which your ardent gaze you 
 
 \rio\AdL\\t\\G Calendars from Forty-six. 
 That book, that dear delightful book of books. 
 On which he casts such fond endearing looks. 
 Contains, enquirer ! ev'ry bet he makes, 
 And tells his fate upon the Derby stakes; 
 
 > III III _ I . I " l ^ 1 i 
 
 * " Weatherhy and Rhodes.""] Two celebrated compilers 
 of Sporting occurrences, and proprietors of the Racing C- 
 lendars mentioned in iMe next lines.
 
 9Z? 
 
 That smile you saw, replete with joy and fun, lA 
 Was caus'd by finding that whoever won, ^qftaSi 
 Whichever animal, or mare, or colt; i f>aJl 
 
 Nay, though esich favourite might chance to bolt. 
 Or all, at once fall lame, or die, or stray, 'J 
 
 He j^et must pocket hundreds * by the day. 
 t Crockford and Cloves, O'Mara, Hol- 
 land, Bland! offo nl 
 Pupils of Cocker ! calculating band ! ; >o'i<l ^d"^/ 
 Ye, who of talent make the proper use l>i\l oV 
 Thou christen'd MoUTH ! J and thou yclept the 
 Goose !{ .ji oVI 
 Declare ! had such but fallen to your lot, -v fM 
 Would ye have look'd? have smil'd ? Ah ! would 
 
 ye not ? 
 Ay ! ^though the elements commix'd at once, 
 Prov'd Newton foolish, Herschell a mere dunce; 
 
 * " Hundreds by the dfoy."] This will to all but betting, 
 men appear impossible ; but to them will doubtless be suffix 
 eientlif comprehensible. 
 
 + '* Crockford and Cloves^ ^c-"] Renowned professort 
 of the art of betting. 
 
 % " Mouth and 6roo*e.''] Cant names giien to two of the 
 aboTe honourable profession.
 
 93 
 
 Though thunder roar'd around ye, lightnings 
 
 flash'd. 
 And trembling nature shrunk appall'd, abash'd; 
 Ay! though those awful notes the air should 
 
 rend. 
 Which speak this earthly fabric at an end; 
 Though daemons snatch'd ye from the ground ye 
 
 trod. 
 And forc'd ye, quaking, to confront your God.'* 
 Yet, yet, I see you with undaunted looks. 
 Grasping your much lov'd, much thumb' d betting 
 
 books ! 
 With eyes yet fix'd on one your arts had plun- 
 
 der'd. 
 And blandly hinting that you vins a hundi'ed; 
 Till 'Monday * begging from Omniscient Jove, 
 And asking where was TattersalVs* above? 
 
 Nor less Lord William with dehght survey 'd. 
 The prize his calculating brain had made. 
 Thoughtless, ambitious, in his twentieth year. 
 And free from care of any kind or fear; 
 
 * " Monday Tatter salVs.^*'\ The time and place when 
 and where all bets on the Derby (the stakes aboye.mntioned) 
 are arranged.
 
 94 
 
 With all the fire attach 'd to youthful blood. 
 And heart and intellects innately good ; 
 Our hopeful hero now prepar'd to start. 
 To spoil those intellects, destroy that heart j 
 To render useless all his nature gave. 
 Become the tool of fraud, deception's slave, 
 Thcidupe and jest of ev'ry well-dress'd knave: 
 To govern gamblers, be a blackleg king, 
 And shine the monarch of the betting ring! 
 
 Nor long, in truth, before this wish was gain'd. 
 Nor long before his purpose was attain'd; 
 His well-known wealth procur'd too soon his 
 
 ends. 
 At once obtain'd a crowd oi seeming friends: 
 Wretches, whose flatt'ry sooth'd his boyish 
 
 pride. 
 Who all his faults and weaknesses descried. 
 And ev'ry foible to their use applied: 
 Fanned him with adulation's grateful breeze. 
 And praise too sure, at such an age, to please. 
 And thus surrounded, the unthinking boy. 
 With all to please him, nothing to annoy, 
 Blaz'd forth, at once, Newmarket's brightest star. 
 With knaves of all descriptions popular :
 
 95 
 
 Obsequious trainers trembled at his nod. 
 And jockeys worshipp'd as they would- a god. '^** 
 His steeds where-ever seen, or first or last, 
 Wepe hailM with shouts and plaudits as they past. 
 Whilst beauteous females in surrounding stands. 
 On tiptoes gazing, wav'd their lily hands, 
 Display'd their 'kerchiefs as he canter*d by, ' 
 To prove how much they wish'd him victory. ^ 
 And he, the while, the wonder of the course. 
 Bestrode with graceful ease, some high-bred 
 
 horse. 
 Surveyed the dubious race at every turn, 
 
 With anxious gaze, though seeming unconcern ; 
 Smil'd, as his fate was echo'd from the post. 
 And told the gaping crowd the thousands lost. 
 Heedless of money, he despis*d its loss. 
 As trash regarded it, mere childish dross, 
 'Bout which prudential misers only rant, 
 Unknown to him its worth, unfelt its want : 
 He lov'd to win ity as he lov'd to game. 
 Not for the value, solely for the fame ; 
 And hence of all around the dupe wate made. 
 To all a debtor, yet himself unpaid.
 
 96 
 
 ^ 
 
 Meantime, the Dame so truly christen'd blind; 
 Whose aim appears to torture human kind. 
 On all occasions prov'd Lord William's friend. 
 And sent her gifts as though they ne*er could end. 
 His high-bred horses, wheresoe'^er they run, 
 Where-ever sent, where-ever started, won : 
 In vain his envying intimates combine. 
 His. senses madden and inflame with wine; 
 Some pow'r unseen their malice still defies. 
 And baffles still their seeming certainties. 
 His steeds (as if by magic's pow'r decreed ) 
 In each attempt, however wild, succeed. 
 Triumphant still retain the envied lead. 
 In every public print, the while, his pride 
 Was amply fed, was amply gratified ; 
 Those servile echoers of aught but truth, 
 Teem'd with each action of the' illustrious youth. 
 Some Herculean labour or exploit. 
 Wherein he prov'd prodigiously adroit; 
 How much his equipage, his horses cost ; 
 AVhat here he pocketed, what there he lost ; 
 What wond'rous sums on such a race he betted. 
 At this how much he rav'd, at that how fretted ;
 
 m 
 
 111 short, his deeds, or in the North or South, 
 hy all were talk'd of, were in ev'ry mouth. 
 But who through Fortune's fickle smile can 
 see? 
 What mortal art develope her decree ? 
 As at Newmarket, some intemp'rate steed. 
 At starting, struggles for and gains the lead ; 
 Awhile in front maintains his fleetest pace. 
 As if resolv'd to win by miles his race j 
 With crest and head erect, appears to fly, 
 To snatch with ease the palm of victory; 
 But when his pow'rs, his strength are most re- 
 quired. 
 At once resigns the struggle and is tir'd 5 
 By those behind him, spiritless is pass'd. 
 And spurr'd and panting, hobbles in the last. 
 Thus Fortune's dame appears, awhile, to fly. 
 So bears in front her hapless votary ; 
 Till when the glittering bauble strikes his view, 
 For which all toil, which all in vain pursue. 
 At once her fr9,ud, her treach'ry stands confest. 
 At once she fails misfortune tells the rest I 
 And thus with him, whose memoirs we relate; 
 By her deserted, left to meet his fate; 
 
 H 
 
 /
 
 98 
 
 Hfs boasted riches pay his folly's price, 
 
 And vanish soon, an easy sacrifice: 
 
 With these, of course, his friendly comrades fly. 
 
 With these departs his popularity : 
 
 His faults, long hid behind their glitt'ring 
 screen. 
 
 Are now discovered, now by all are seen : 
 
 Of virtue, wealth, and character bereft. 
 
 He falls, with nought but recollection left, 
 But, not to dwell too long in woe's abode, 
 
 Or tell each stage on ruin's dreary road. 
 
 Ten years are vanished, readers ! and again 
 
 Lord William ventures on Newmarket's plain: 
 
 Although on other schemes and projects bent. 
 
 With aim and object widely different : 
 
 No more ambitious only of a name. 
 
 Nor seeking now unprofitable fame 5 
 
 No more about to play the madman's part. 
 
 And yield to ev'ry impulse of the heart : 
 
 The use of genius better understood. 
 
 His aim, his object now a livelihood. 
 
 Nor scrup'lous how his upright end he gains. 
 
 Nor by what means his purport he attains,
 
 But, spurning ev*ry care 'bout riglit or wrong, > 
 Those common topics of the theorist's songy.< ./ 
 He now one end, one only path pursues, '^' 
 
 The one most likely to acquire his views. 
 In all spcieties, with ready ease, 
 
 Puts on the garb most probable to please. 
 That suited best the ignorant to decoy ; 
 With age reserv'd, with boys affects the boy: 
 With Playfair* works (that Argive of his day). 
 And learns each mystery of unfair play; 
 To deal the certain flush, to cog the die. 
 And make the most of opportunity. 
 
 To Beelzebub's domain he next applies. 
 And begs a patent to excel in lies : 
 The Lord of Hell his pray*r benignant grants, 
 Each art oi fabling in his breast implants; 
 Assists his fancy in its num'rous flights. 
 And bids it soar to yet unheard-of heights: 
 And thus inspir'd, our hero hourly talks 
 Of large estates and nicely shaded walks; 
 
 *. 
 
 * With Play fair wot* A:*."] Vide page 64. 
 
 *' Ille dolis instructus et arte Pelasg&." 
 
 VJ&OIX'. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 
 
 Of countless acres of well-cultur'd ground, 
 Which fence on ev'ry side his mansion round. 
 Though none, as yet, or house, or land, have 
 
 found ; 
 Describes whole forests of majestic trees. 
 Whose vet'ran branches court the northern 
 
 breeze. 
 
 Trees ! so unnumber'd, so immense, so great, 
 
 * 
 That none exist who yet could calculate. 
 
 Nor least he shines, whilst counting o'er his bets. 
 
 To boys from school and stripling Baronets, 
 
 Whose idiot .sconces credit give, of course. 
 
 To each iota of his bland discourse : 
 
 His tales believe, when with unblushing face, 
 
 He tells of thousands betted on one race ; 
 
 Indignant bids his gaping audience look. 
 
 And mark the fact attested by his book. 
 
 Whilst *round him crowds each wonder-smitten 
 
 face. 
 
 And echoing Bond-Street totters to its base ; 
 
 Astounded loungers eye the godlike man. 
 
 And, quaking, wonder at the risks he ran : 
 
 Implicit credit yield j nor once believe 
 
 That tales so grand were destin'd to deceive.
 
 101 
 
 Or if some few presume to doubt their truth. 
 Not such his prey, not such unthinking youth j 
 'Mongst these his tales are certain toj decoyj 
 Each word ensnares some unsuspecting boy. 
 Some headstrong minor, rnad to run in debt ; 
 Some wealthy brew'Ty or simple baronet; 
 Who pants to shine the hero of a course. 
 As infants pant to stride the rocking-horse. 
 Or haply, one of that detested race. 
 Who now in ev'ry street are found, and place j 
 y^ho feign a want of intellect and sense. 
 To rob their neighbours at convenience; 
 Who act, in truth, like swindlers broken loose. 
 And make minority their cant excuse: 
 Pigeons self- titled, a nefarious tribe. 
 Who any thing or ev'ry thing subscribe j 
 With open eyes rush headlong on their fate, 
 And, proud to call a knave their intimate. 
 In every scheme of infamy engage, 
 Till law has stamp'd them men, till dubb'd of 
 
 age. 
 Then first they halt allege they have been 
 
 trick'd. 
 Retract, deny, forswear, and contradict.
 
 To swtet simplicity they then pretend, tO 
 
 And load with gross abuse their former friend. 
 " We're robb'd ! We're ruin'd !" then be- 
 comes their cry, 
 " 'Yon blackleg rogue has stol'n our property!" 
 
 And some, in these enhghtenM times there 
 are> 
 Who deem this novel system just and fair^ 
 Who seem to think extravagance a merit. 
 And term a minor's fraud a proof of spirit. 
 
 A fashion this, too much, alas I in vogue, 
 T' excuse, however vile, a youthful rogue. 
 Such tenets, everywhere, assail the earj 
 In all societies, some youth we hear f 
 
 Disowning debts he justly has incurred. 
 And glorying in the pow'r to break his word : 
 Nay, proudly vaunting, in the face of day, 
 He nor desired, nor * wished, nor meant to pay ! 
 Whilst those around too frequently applaud 
 This act of gross, indisputable fraud. 
 
 " He nor desir^dy nor msh'd.^''] Qui capit illt 
 facit.
 
 103 
 
 For ask we truth, or probity, or sense. 
 In what distinct, in what the difference, 
 'Twixt one who robs on this insidious plan, 
 And 'yon declar'd, half-famish*d highwayman ? 
 The latter, want impels to seek relief. 
 The first, a mean, a pettifogging thief! 
 
 Of fraud acquit them, and admit their plea^^/ 
 Idiots they must be in the last degree. 
 
 But hold, my muse I nor in rhapsodic flight 
 Forget thy hero: he, illustrious wight) 
 By such like practices some twelve months 
 
 thriv'd. 
 Awhile in play-begotten atfluence liv*d. 
 Successful fraud some friends of course procur'd, 
 Tho' some might envy, some suspect, yet all en- 
 
 dur'd! 
 But fortune still, with hatred unsubdued. 
 His bright career malignantly pursued : 
 A faithless friend, in some contention crossed, 
 Or angry at some wealthy pigeon lost. 
 One hapless moment, ventur'd to reveal 
 His many ways to cog a die and deal; 
 Held forth each myst'ry to the public eye. 
 And prov'd how play became a certainty.
 
 104 
 
 Th' invidious crowd, with joy receive the news. 
 At once condemn him and at once abuse : 
 By none esteem'd, and envied long by all, 
 His comrades but accelerate his fall. 
 
 Thus then, without one hope, one plea to urge. 
 Once more Lord William stands on ruin's verge; 
 Without one friend to soothe the dire disgrace. 
 Once more destruction stares him in the facej 
 By all avoided, shunn'd by every sect. 
 Where can his plots, his fables take effect? 
 Disgust and coldness ev'ry where appear. 
 And scarce a waiter condescends to hear. 
 
 " But Satan saw" and anxious for his friend, 
 To all his cares decreed at once an end : 
 Plac'd in his view, and bade him thither fly. 
 The new establish *d club of Borbury. 
 A vast assemblage this, where boys from school, 
 In jockey garbs first came to play the fool, 
 Oxonian thick-heads, eminently dense. 
 Who yearly met to prove their want of sense; 
 And give their steeds that whip-cord, (truant 
 
 elves !) 
 Which wiser Nature destin'd for themselves.
 
 105 
 
 And now where ev'rj' blockhead bends his back. 
 Like Puss resisting Pompey's rough attack,! tr/ 
 To spur the sides of some ill-fated hack ; 
 Where giant zanies, Lilliputian peers, 
 Some scarcely breech'd, and some advanc'd in 
 
 years. 
 Militia bucks and cornets of dragoons. 
 Like shewnien habited, or stage buffoons. 
 With wasted carcases their rips bestride. 
 And puff, perspire, and pant, and think they ride. 
 Here came the Peer; enraptur'd with the scene, 
 He lost for once his customary spleen : 
 " Rich field," he cries, " for an aspiring mind, 
 " Where wealth and ignorance appear combined. 
 ** Here sit thee down ! Here fix thy future 
 
 throne ! 
 " In other climes thy various pranks are known ; 
 " But here uncheck'd, unknown, unnotic'd, stay, 
 " And spend the evening of a brilliant day." 
 
 The boyish crew the chief's arrival hail. 
 For fate had fram'd him on the jockey scale; 
 All praise his science, and with one accord. 
 Proclaim him king, acknowledge him their lord.
 
 106 
 
 The sceptre seiz'd, he throws off all disguise. 
 And sure of wealth from their absurdities. 
 He makes, unmakes, or does away their laws. 
 As suits his purpose, or assists his cause ; 
 Ordains, decrees, and does whate'er he likes. 
 As passion prompts him, or as fancy strikes ; 
 Jocosely gallops o'er some dozen folks. 
 Whilst wondering stable-boys applaud the hoax; 
 Rides, as he terms it, beautifully fine. 
 And takes a leg off^ bawUng " Keep your line!" 
 As if their persons, property, and limbs. 
 Were tools to serve his vanity and whims. 
 'Tis true, some few once ventur'd to declare. 
 Such jokes ill-tim*d, such goings on unfair; 
 Nay, more than once, so sporting bards relate. 
 Dire vengeance threatened on their monarch's 
 
 pate: 
 But vain each effort, each attempt to cure, 
 " 'Twas wrong," cry all, " 'twas roguish, to be 
 
 sure!" 
 They grumble, growl, and groan, BUT STILI 
 
 ENDURE ! 
 Here then, his aim, his ev'ry wish attain'd, 
 Glenalfon's offspring many years remain'd,
 
 lOT- 
 
 Fortune her former enmity forgot, 
 And once more doom'd, prosperity his lot: ''^A 
 Crown'd all his plans and projects with succeilfej^ 
 And all again seem'd joy and happiness. 1:^)1 
 An ample fortune,* by his arts amass'dj^^' fiotM 
 Had spread a veil o'er all th' unwelcome past." - 
 And thus, of care devoid, or seeming grief, -^^ 
 Once more Newmarket saw the veteran chief; * 
 On every turf-pursuit again intent j '. ^**^& P* 
 Again her patron, pride, and ornament.'^^** '-*^'^^ 
 Rever'd, look'd up to, by all sporting ranks, 
 Nor once detail'd, nor thought of former pranks : 
 Old Time, o'er these, had clos'd oblivion's gate. 
 And wrapt in mist which none dar'd penetrate. 
 
 Yet though, apparently without alloy. 
 One latent feeling poison'd all his joy; 
 One pang Vemain'd, to make the Peer confess 
 How rare on eartb is perfect happiness ; 
 One thorn yet tortur'd, one unceasing grief. 
 From which nor wealth, nor rank could yield 
 relief; 
 
 ^ *' An ample fortune i^^~\ -So true is it that 
 " Omnia Romr eum pretio." 
 
 JUYENAL.
 
 108 
 
 Nor human aid, nor human art set free 
 The dire reflection he was eighty-three ! 
 Ealch hour the destin'd tyrant of mankind 
 Too plain refus'd to loiter long behind ; 
 Each moment prov'd him gaining ground apace, 
 To snatch his lengthen'd, long-protracted race. 
 
 Relentless monarch ! From thy dreaded pow'r. 
 What charm can shield us creatures of the hour ! 
 In early youth we thoughtless make our play. 
 Like colts, first started, headstrong break awayj 
 Disdainful slack the reason-given rein. 
 And stride at speed across life's checquer'd 
 
 plain. 
 When warn'd of thee, and of our certain fate, . 
 How slight the pang reflection can create ! ,, ,^ 
 " Shall death impede our bright career," we 
 
 " Yon shade, yon distant speck ? Absjirdity !'* 
 Yet whilst we mock, how oft his pow'r we own ! 
 How oft, whilst speaking, wretchedly break 
 
 down ! 
 Or if allow 'd, awhile, to keep the lead. 
 How vain the hope t' elude his matchless speed !
 
 109 
 
 For^vhen the destin'd ending mark draws near, 
 * Though life and pleasure then seem doubly 
 
 dear> 
 Though fame and wealth on ev*ry side surround. 
 Our ruthless foe makes up at once his ground ; 
 At his approach, like jades, we give it in. 
 And harass'd Nature strives in vain to win. 
 
 So have I seen some simple six-foot youth. 
 In silken vest array his form uncouth. 
 Vault eager on his saddle, snatch the rein. 
 And strive t' outdo in skill the great Germain, 
 Well pleas'd the gawky mounts, enraptured 
 
 smiles, 
 Scarce waits the word to take the lead by miles j 
 In fancy grasps th' already-plunder'd pelf; 
 Adjusts his cravatj and admires himself; * 
 
 * " Though life and pleasure^ 4"c*"] For how few are 
 they who think with Jurenal, that 
 
 " Mors sola fatetur 
 
 " Quantula sint hominum corpuscula." 
 Or, 
 
 " Qui spatium Titae extremum inter munera ponanf 
 " Naturae "
 
 no 
 
 Then looks above, then 'round him, then behind. 
 Then lolls supine, and gasps for want of wind. 
 Meanwhile, his sage opponent in the race. 
 Sagacious, steady, ever in his place. 
 Each post, each corner smoothly glides around. 
 And at the proper periods makes his ground. 
 Abreast comes up, and scares th' asitonish'd lout. 
 Who rolls in ev'ry attitude about; 
 Then straight commences what himself deserves. 
 And wonders hapless Rosinante swerves. 
 His groom, his fortune, and himself abuses. 
 And kicks, and shoves, and spurs, and flogs, and 
 loses. 
 " And must this dread destroyer then prevail?" 
 Exclaim'd, one morn, the hero of our tale, 
 When, griml}^ terrible, his dreaded foe 
 Prepar'd to strike the long-expected blow. 
 /' O pause," he cried, " stern arbiter of fate I 
 " Glenalvon*s offspring deigns to supplicate, 
 " Intreats thee to forego thy dire intent, 
 " He, even he, Newmarket's president, 
 "O then at least a few short months forbear, 
 " Till next October meetings deign to spare ! 
 
 5
 
 Ill 
 
 " Let me but see my fav'rite filly win, ; 
 
 " Once more behold the public taken in, 
 
 " And then content I die O ! would*st thou 
 snatch 
 
 " From my extended grasp that famous match ? 
 
 " Would'st take mfe, tyrant ! with my scheme 
 half piann'd ? 
 
 " With Derby, Oaks, Pavilion,* all at hand, 
 
 " And when on all so wond*rous well I stand ? 
 
 " O ! Let these sights but glad mine aged eyes, 
 " And then farewell." " Forbear," stern Death 
 
 replies, 
 " Nor more oppose irrevocable fate ; 
 " Impatient Satan claims his intimate. 
 " Thy friends, moreover, in the realms of woe, 
 " Have form'd a club, a Borbury below; 
 " Where gentlemanli/ Hellites are to ride; 
 " And thou art fix'd on, destined to preside : 
 " For thy advice they wait, thy potent aid 
 " Then hence ! and there pursue thy former 
 trade; 
 
 * ^^ Derby, Oaks, Pavilion.^''} Celebrated races which 
 form the chief sources of the blackleg's wealth. v
 
 11^2 
 
 " Be there as here, the sovereign of the club, 
 " And 'stead oi Douglas y Jockey Beelzebub; 
 " Affright the demons with thy favourite squally^ 
 " Upset Alecto at the xvell-known wall. 
 " The Furies jostle, and the Fates o'erturn, 
 ' And gain the Stygian like the Borbury turn. 
 " But hark ! their bell has toll'd no more 
 
 delay !" 
 The despot spoke and fasten'd on his prey. 
 O then ! what signs, what prodigies took place ! 
 Newmarket totter'd to its trembling base ; 
 The Warren-hill f all consolation spurn'd. 
 The stagnant water-troughs J to poison 
 
 TURN'D; 
 The Stands, the Scales, the Betting-posts rein'd 
 
 back; 
 The B. C. II groan'd, the Ditch-in put on black; 
 
 * " Thy favourite squall."'\ Vide page 106, line 10. 
 
 + " The Warren.hill."'] The exercise-ground. -. 
 
 X " The stagnant water-troughs.^^'] The author, with 
 due deference, maintains that having thus shewn the cause 
 of this late calamitous event, he is entitled to the reward 
 offered on the occasion. 
 
 (I " The B. C," <^c.] This and all the ensuing names 
 are the terms given to the different courses at Newmarket.
 
 113 
 
 The T.M.M. have since forborne to smile ; 7 
 The Bunbury shriek'd, as did the Rozvley Mile; 
 The Flat and Yearling Course bemoan'd their 
 firiend, - j^'? f^f^ 
 
 And sobb'd their sorrows to the Audley End. 
 Godolphin's Arab * from his grave leapt out, 7 
 Highflyer i Marsk, and Herod \ stalk'd aboti^,VI 
 Eclipse and Childers left their earthy stalls, ^? *?0 
 And Saltram rose and walk'd to TattersaU's J 
 
 " But hold ! of this enough," methinks you cryi' 
 " *Tis time to leave off jest and ribaldry; 
 " Thy aim profess'd, to speak in truth's behalf, ! 
 " And force conviction from us, not a laugljXdT 
 Are such thy sentiments, enquiring youth?' 
 Such are thy bard's; henceforth he utters truth.-; 
 
 Abjure the turf, its bland allurements fly>/ iH 
 Lest ruin prove, too late, its fallacy. rttlf fiff 
 No declamation this : experience speaks, ;' 
 
 And bids thee shun a host of rooks and greeks; 
 
 horses. ;''*^i* /--^^ '''-'^0 hmi /t.^imii'ii} "-ovsu'lji'j oil i: 
 
 + " Highflyer, Marsk, 4"c- 4'''*"] Animals Botarious for 
 their turf performances.
 
 A 
 
 114 
 
 Where all are knaves, though class'd in different 
 
 rates. 
 And honesty itself contaminates. 
 Say ! can ye boast what schoolmen 'talent call ? 
 Ill-fated Albion claims, requires it all. ,.. 
 
 Was genius giv'n to waste in betting rings ? , 
 No ! tis your country's property, your king's. 
 Or do ye wealth and worldly pelf possess ? 
 Use it to succour woe and wretchedness : 
 To sooth the grief, you hourly witness, strive. 
 And feel delight, no animal can givej 
 Not all Eclipse's pedigree or blood, 
 The heartfelt luxury, of doing good. 
 Ask Grosv'nor's Earl, that honest upright Lord, 
 So justly lov'd, so worthily ador*d; 
 He yet the turf's precarious sport pursues, 
 His aim and only object to amuse; 
 T* improve the nature of the British steed. 
 Amend the kind, and meliorate the breed: 
 And if delight attend upon success. 
 Untold his rapture, great his happiness. 
 When he relieves distress, and opes his door , 
 To welcome indigence, or aid the poor;
 
 115 
 
 Enquire what then he feels, what then his bliss. 
 And ask if Violante* yield him this ? 
 Or make ye health and happiness your care ? 
 Avoid Newmarket's soil they grow not there. 
 When all your hopes, mayhap your future bread. 
 Depend upon a jockey's heart or head; 
 When merest chance, a bolt, a cross, or swerve. 
 Has pow'r to place in torture every nerve ; 
 When perspiration's drops bedew the cheek. 
 And scarce the mouth retains its pow'r to speak; 
 When from its socket starts the anxious eye. 
 And every pulse beats high in agony ; 
 Let those who thus have felt let them confess, 
 Can health be then enjoy'd ? or happiness ? 
 But you may win What then, unthinking boy. 
 You shout, you halloo, and conceive it joy : 
 Such joy the footpad feels, when quirk or flaw 
 Have sav'd him from the vengeance of the law; 
 Or when success in some nefarious plan. 
 Promotes him to the rank of highwayman : 
 
 * " Violante."'] A celebrated female performer on th 
 turf stage at least, ita dicunt Messrs. Selim, Brainworm, 
 Canopus and Co.
 
 116 
 
 Like your's, his present bliss is render'd vain, 
 By hopes of better plunder, greater gain : 
 Like you, resolving headlong to pursue 
 A something not attained, yet still in view : 
 " May no mischance my future schemes assail," 
 Your constant pray'r His, " Let me rob the 
 
 mail.'* 
 Your aim alike, to gain one object tends. 
 And this the prison; that, the gallows ends. 
 Such too, the joyous feelings that attend 
 On him, whose ball assassinates his friend : 
 And such the midnight bravo's mind may feel, 
 Whose murd'rous arm directs the vengeful steel. 
 Does genuine joy of soul resemble this? 
 Can such compare with that unruffled bliss. 
 By virtue's faithful votary pursued. 
 Which springs alone from conscious rectitude ? 
 Does he, who dauntless ventures on the main. 
 Invoke the storm ? implore the hurricane ? 
 Does he prefer the rude and boist'rous gale 
 That wrecks his bark, and tears her quiv'ring 
 
 sail. 
 To the continued, mild, and steady breeze. 
 Which wafts her smoothly o'er the tranquil seas ?
 
 117 
 
 Who then compares the momentary storm 
 That shakes the gamester's agitated form j 
 Which but convulses ere it passes by. 
 And leaves the mind in tenfold agony ; 
 To that calm state of pleasure undefin'd. 
 Which, ever present in a virtuous mind. 
 Lays bare each rock, points out each latent shoal. 
 And steers the vessel to its destin'd goal ? 
 
 Then fly the dangerous spot ! the Muse repeats. 
 Whence none with genuine probity retreats. 
 No more the scene of gentlemanly sport. 
 Where men of rank were 'custom'd to resort; 
 'Tis now a mart for vice of every kind, 
 Th* abode of all the basest of mankind ; 
 Where worth is scofPd at, rank a mere pretence. 
 And ffaud and folly league with truth and sense : 
 Where all are FRIENDS, and in the self-same 
 
 room 
 Thep eer salutes his intimate the groom ; 
 Where greeks and nobles crowd around one 
 
 board. 
 And here a blackleg sits, and there a lord I
 
 118 
 
 If heedless yet, of all the Muse can say. 
 Thou still must venture on the slipp'ry way. 
 If go thou wilt, and niadman-like pursue 
 The thorny "path, with safety trod by few;* 
 
 * It is assuredly a melancholy reflection, that an amuse, 
 meht'so rational and fdseinating cannot be pursued by the 
 gentlemanly part of the comiquiujty, without subjecting it 
 followers, hawever pure may be their conduct, howeyer 
 honourable their intentions, to ,some portion of the obloquy 
 justly attached to those who pursue th Turf as a profession, 
 and unblushingly avovr it as the trade by which they obtain 
 a subsistence. 
 
 The great source of this' eril seems to arise from th* 
 injudicious admission, into the best societies at Newmarket, 
 of persons whose former character, conduct, and pursuits 
 in life, ought to render them objects of universal abhorrenc 
 an(^,(:^ntempt. 
 
 Wealth is now, unhappily, the chief, if not the only re- 
 quisite deemed necessary in the modern sportsman, and as 
 wealth is frequently acquired by persons of desperate and 
 abandoned characters, so many of these will, and do neces- 
 sarily, gain admittance into the society of honourable men, 
 and thereby attach to that society a stigma which it littlt 
 merits.
 
 119 
 
 Thy bard, who still, whatever his grief, attends. 
 
 Conjures thee to select with care, thy friends : * 
 
 Nor fall a prey to all those glittering baits. 
 
 Held out by much-professing intimates. 
 
 Watch thou the crowd with scrutinizing eyes. 
 
 Nor be the dupe of ev'ry dark disguise : 
 
 How rare is friendship needs not to be told, i' 
 
 Nor is it less so, 'mongst the slaves of gold ; 
 
 Where all are worshipping one idol pelf. 
 
 And each contriving to enrich himself. 
 
 'Tis not the blackleg whom you most should 
 
 fear. 
 His purpose open, his intentions clear ; 
 To all apparent, by himself allow 'd 
 His aim and trade to prey upon the crowd. 
 But vice in ambuscade, and well-dress'd fraud. 
 Guard ye against ! The smoothly-spoken Lord : 
 Him whom the youthful breast at once receives^ 
 Who bows and flatters when he most deceives. 
 The worst of enemies and worst of thieves; 
 
 * " With care i hi/ friends/^'] 
 
 " Qualem commendes etiam atque etiara, aspice, ne mox 
 '' Incatiant aliena tibl pccata puduiem." 
 
 ^ HOB.
 
 120 
 
 Whose heart is treach'rous as his words are bland. 
 Who plots your ruin, whilst he grasps your hand; 
 And whose kind steeds are wont to win or lose. 
 As best may suit their lord's nefarious views. 
 
 " The turf's a lott'ry," is the common cry : 
 Whence, let me ask, this said uncertainty ? 
 Think we, the animals are not the same ? 
 That they to-day are sound, to-morrow lame ? 
 To-day can fly, with mountains on their backs. 
 To-morrow hobble in the rear of hacks ? 
 Who make them vary thus? I ask again, 
 Who but these lords, these things call'd gentle- 
 tlemen ? 
 
 Still do ye doubt? and still withhold belief? 
 Inspect your calendar, its ev*ry leaf: 
 Turn to that page, to that ill-fated day,* 
 Wherein was beat the since-unconquer'd grey.f 
 
 * " Ill.fated da^."] 
 
 " May that returning day be night, 
 
 " The stain, the curse of each succeeding year !'* 
 
 zaxga. 
 
 + " Since unconquer'' d gTej/."] This was written prior 
 to the last October meeting.
 
 121 
 
 Were there that day, (tho* pow'r at present 
 
 screens,) . 
 No gentlemen at work behind the scenes ? 
 O'erpow'rd I cease indignant drop my 
 
 pen 
 Once more I say, avoid the gentlemen ! 
 
 And are there none, declaiming bard, yoa 
 cry. 
 Exempt from censure? free from infamy? 
 Exist there none, who still the turf pursue. 
 Yet keep their fame, their characters in view ? 
 Who yet make honesty their pride and care ? 
 Some few, some very few, of such, there are. 
 
 Oxford and Foley, proof of this supply. 
 Nobles renowned for stern integrity: 
 Illustrious Grafton's ever honour'd name. 
 To rigid probity lays equal claim : 
 Nor yet less rare, less meriting record. 
 The worth of Drape and of Jersey's lord. 
 'Mongst such, shall Grosv'nor's cousin be 
 
 forgot ? 
 Forbid it truth ! Nor Piers, nor Lippincott. 
 
 K
 
 1S 
 
 Fitzwilliam, Wentworth, Cavendish, and Gore; / 
 With these are number 'd ^Justice owns no 
 more*. ' >*< luw. 
 
 If then, of all the many-coloured crew, -*- 
 
 The wish'd-for end is gain'd but by these few 5 
 If wealth and fame so often pay the price, iU4#I 
 So often fall, an easy sacrifice; 
 If sense and riper age so often fail 
 Shall youth, untutor'd thoughtless youth, pre- 
 
 O ! for a Dryden*s muse, a GifFard's pen. 
 To warn my much-deluded countrymen : 
 To bid them spurn the worthless, vain pursuit. 
 Nor thus their time, their talents prostitute; 
 
 * *^ Justice owns no iore."] It is with great pleasure 
 that the author turns from the objects of his satire to com- 
 pliment these ''fortes et sapientes viros, qui nan tarn 
 '' premia. sequi solent recte factoruniy qudm ipsa recth 
 " facta:' Cic. 
 
 If any deserving persons have, however, escaped his no- 
 tice, he sincerely regrets the' omission ; but, at present, he 
 cannot call to mind any others who merit applause, or on 
 whom he could confer the honour of enrolling their names 
 amongst the distinguish'd ornaments to society aboTC-men- 
 tioned.
 
 123 
 
 Teach them to earn well-merited applause. 
 And seek for fame in Albion's injur*d cause. 
 
 Behold where Mellish, once Newmarket's god. 
 Forsakes the path his headstrong passions trod, 
 Resolv'd henceforth to grace a nobler scene 
 Than Knavesmire's Heath, or Brighton's gazing 
 
 Stein ; 
 Like one regenerate, bursts intrepid forth. 
 And proves his innate, long-forgotten worth. 
 When now the Gazette's fame-recording page 
 Holds forth his merit to th' applauding age ; 
 Think ye ! he then repines, or feels remorse. 
 Because no longer hero of a course ? 
 Or sighs he then, imagine ye ! again 
 To shine the idol of a blackleg train ? 
 Again to pass th' unwelcome sleepless night. 
 And haply, curse the hour he saw the light ? 
 Let not this bright example then be lost. 
 Like him, forsake at once the dang'rous coast. 
 Where, if not wreck'd, the struggling bark of life 
 Is toss'd about, the prey of endless strife. 
 
 Thy words, IMMORTAL Pope ! who dares deny? 
 Content, saidst thou, is true felicity.
 
 124 
 
 But who, I ask, on gambling projects bent. 
 Yet cried, " enough" ^yet deem'd himself con- 
 tent ? 
 Let lavish Fortune ope her amplest store ; 
 The cry is still, " O! would it had been more!** 
 And why diminish, wherefore render less 
 The trifling stock we boast of happiness ? 
 Why rack the mind, and agonize the brain , 
 With never-ceasing thoughts of how to gain ? 
 Impair each faculty- -obscure each sense. 
 With constant brooding over pounds and pence ? 
 As well, by Heav'ns ! turn pedagogue at once. 
 And deal out Cocker to each village dunce. 
 
 If then, thine earthly bliss be kept in view. 
 One certain path, and one alone, pursue; 
 The path by reason pointed out, and sense. 
 The path of virtue, of benevolence. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Harding and Wright, Printers, St. John's Square, liOodoa. 
 
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