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Rhapsodies, in a voyage to Nootka Sound [Unknown] 1797

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   Veby babe. The Author, in his opening epistle, addressed to Maquinna,
Slag of Nootka Sound, says: " I blush for my Country when I consider
what has been done by my Countrymen under your Royal Eyes; they
came to you for the most equitable purposes, to cure existing abuses, and
to establish a fair trade. What has been their conduct? they created fresh
abuses, they establish an oppressive monopoly. Many vessels, English as
well as American, fitted out in the spirit of adventure at enormous expense, were, to the severe loss of their unfortunate owners, forced to
abandon this part of the coast, and proceed to the Northward, to dispose
of their articles as they could. The Characters sketched in these pages,
your Majesty knows too well by fatal experience; with what fidelity they
*re pourtrayed, you will therefore be able to decide."    RHAPSODIES,
i^ootlta §5>ountou
(( Call, if you will, bad rhyming a Disease,
" It gives men Happiness, or leaves them Ease."
Pors's Imitat. Horace, Epist. ii. /. 182.
l797<  TO
(the meridian sun)
**jiiiii—— i   N"
X HAD the honor some time
ago of transmitting to your Majesty the
opening of a Poem entitled—-" The OTTER
SKIN p and the flattering attention it obtained from your Majesty's royal court of
Tashees, encourages me to lay before your
Majesty the Second and concluding Parts.
I blush for my country when I consider
what has been done by my countrymen un- VI
der your royal eyes : they came to you for
the most equitable purposes—to cure existing abuses, and to establish a fair Trade :—■
What has been their conduct ?—They created new abuses !—they establised an oppressive monopoly ! Many vessels, English
as well as American, fitted out in the spirit
of adventure at an enormous expence, were,
to the severe loss of their unfortunate owners, forced to abandon this part of the coast
and proceed to the northward, to dispose of
their articles as they could. J|
The Characters sketched in these pages,
your Majesty knows too w$U by fatal experience : with wh$t fidelity they are pour-
trayed, you will, therefore be able to decide.
A little indignation, I confess, warmed me
for the attack; and I ventured to expose
those persons who had so vehemently, and
with so little scruple, exposed themselves. DEDICATION.
I will no longer detain your Majesty from
the cares, or the delights of royalty ; but will
now, with great humility and becoming reverence, take my leave; by wishing you a
continuation of that prosperity, which has
hitherto signalised the reign of Maquinna,
and of which the title of Tahisim is so emphatically characteristic.
I1 have the Honor to be,
1 SIR,
&c. &c. &c. &c. &c.  THE
U nhappy Scrapeall!—what invet'rate rage
Made thy soft soul in such rude scenes engage ?
Alas, poor man! th* extorted sweat distils
Adown thy cheeks in swiftly gliding rills!
Try on!—try on!—be resolute!—that robe
Wou'd bribe the savage treasures of the globe:
A dapple robe, of Hnsey woolsey wrought,
Enchas'd with suns, with lucid jewels fraught;
There flowers cemented raise their ambient heads,
And constellations glitter out in beads ;
A deeper edge the weak extremes infold,
Munificently trim'd with threads of gold :-—
Oh, arduous task!—inimitable skill!
Yet, often schemes of lucre lead to ill.
i£# Three several moons in due progression past,
Smil'd at the work, but trembled at the waste t
Clippings and shavings bankruptcy presage,
Expence and labor, art arid taste engage.
But see—it comes, in gay effulgence drest,
Of ev'ry gaudy blandishment possest.
Oh ! my eyes swim—their weakness overflows;
Fold up!—this bright display of beauties close!
Yet stay, it strikes the wond'ring Indians' sight;
They gaze, they faulter, splutter with delight :
"Cloosh,cloosh, cloosh, cloosh!"* their throtling
sounds impart*
Dilating joys encircle Scrapeall's heart.
Hope cries—" Huzza!" and pushes Scrapeallon.
They touch the robe and, lo! the chance is gone.
(t Commercial pow'rs! have I then toil'd in vain ?
" O yes, I have!—but spare, protect my brain!
| Day after day, my whisp'ring hopes destroy'd
*c The wish of food—my appetite was cloy'd.
" Night after night, when vigilance opprest
<c My slumb'ring senses, I denied 'em rest.
" I liv'd on airy hope t that source alone
| Supplied each caper, and supplied each groan."
* g Cloosh," signifies good; therefore this is only a rapturous exclamation.
as, (
While  Scrapeall   thus  deplores Trade's  faded
See Bubo proudly stands and folds his arms :
Mistaken Bubo !—say on what pretence
You forfeit the plain rights of manly sense:
Why are you borne along the ruling stream ?
Why are you not, false Bubo, what you seem?
Why is that latent wish for skins you feel
Unjustly smother'd ?—-why that wish conceal?
Deluded Bubo ! throw the mask aside ;
Appear yourself—surrender foolish pride!
What if fools sneer and venture to condemn,
The winners laugh •  and so you laugh at them.
| Detested trade, thy suffrage I resign!
I Charm other hearts ; thou hast no charms for
| Let plodding sons of Avarice behold,
" With lustful eyes the substituted gold*
* Our Author appears here a little inconsistent; he re^
probates trading, and afterwards condemns Bubo for net
trading. Yet I think he rectifies this seeming oversight, by
To decent trading I affix no shame;
'fis trading's warm'excess—there Hes the blame,
3 2 ■     (    4    )       .
| Riches, if this way riches I must gain,
" Let me be poor, and honest still remain."
Intolerable stuff!—I can't endure
This boast of truth % 'tis but a sinecure :
Villains, yo*ir wary senses to beguile,
Will chatter thus, and pilfer all the while.
There are who aft by mere mechanic rules,
The scorn of wisdom and the sport of fools,
Of ev'ry proper feeling dispossest;
Yet honor keeps its station in the breast; *
Crito—who blushes not at Crito's name ?
But Crito sins secure and free from shame.
What man so mad his precepts to upbraid ?
Crito can fight, and " damme who's afraid!"
* This false honor as but a villainous substitute for
honesty. Divested of principle and feeling, a bare-faced
wretch will assert and vindicate his claims to the title of
gentleman, while he impudently acls in open violation of all
laws human and diriaa. Crito was one of this description;
he was impetuous and overbearing; and from having been
early initiated into the chicanery of wickedness, he was become callous and deaf even to the voice of Conscience. He
Jjad fought many duels before he had reached his twentieth
year; and, if 1 remember right, he had killed his man in a
profligate quarrel about a prostitute, whom he introduced tq
his adversary's wife as his own sister. (    3    )      .. II
I No, I have honor—"-honor swells my breast;
" Honor each pleading wish for skins supprest.'*
Honor? my guide, 111 b&indly follow you ;
Murder a friend—a friend Til murder too.
Honor, lead on—prudential thoughts, controul:
Pervert the fondest measures of my soul:
Honor, proceed, point out the doubtful way>
At random point—can Honor point astray?
Delusive Honor! at thy earthly shrine
Comforts and feelings gladly I resign.
Honor—if Honor shou'd perchance mistake,
And sin—I'd sin again for Honor's sake.
But will not Poms trade?—Who, me?—what I?
Rather than trad-e I wou'd submit to die.
Trader-skins and copper—-horrid I declare ;
The thought disgusted greatn&ss cannot bear.
So trade I never will.—The time has been
I've s^en you jump and quiver for a skin.
The time has been, when at the aweful sight,
Those cheeks now red, wou'd soften into white.
The time has been, when those imperious eyes
Wou'd melt and leer; that breast resolve in sighs,*
The time has been, the time again will be,
Yoii'll trade with ardour—mark my prophecy. I
(    6    )
Well, if I do, may thickest curses fall
On this devoted head! and I'll accept 'em all.
May I relinquish selfishness and pride!
May my soul shift, and skulk on Virtue's side!
May my false tongue, and can it well be worse?
Be riveted to truth!—Oh, heavy curse!
May I henceforth unblemished, free appear,
Clear from dark spots, aye e'en as Hysem clear!
—He stopt; and Furius, standing by, up rais'd
His worthless head to hear another prais'd.
Furius, tho' really bad as bad can be,
Is varnish'd over with hypocrisy.
<£ Hysem," he cry'd, " Hysem I like—but then
Hysem has faults as well as other men.
Hysem I honor much—but who denied ?
What friend so warm that says he has not pride ?
Go on, dear Hysem,* in that equal way
You long have gone, nor be seduc'd astray;
* Reader be not surprised at this warmth in favor of Hysem
—I consider the enthusiastical eulogiums a poet bestows on
his dearest friends, as the tender effusions of an affectionate heart, and should perchance, a few indiscreet, or intemperate expresions occur, let us not cavil or censure or condemn*
but let us rather suppress any such vile sensations which may
impel us to so ungenerous an office.   Who Hysem is, I can^ (   7   ) f
Let Envy shout, and malice still declaim,
And fools still scoff, while you remain the same
What mean their scoffs ? they argue no disgrace:
Satan wou'd spit in God Almighty's face.
not afHrm; and our author asks the same question for the
purpose of bestowing a handsome and I trust a due compliment, i.l
Jl5robdingno saw the sable beauties spread;
He saw, and wish'd, and rais'd his pond'rous head,
But whence this ardor! this unusual glow,
This wish to give what praises can't bestow ?
Speak plain, where is this Hysem ? what ? or who :
If the theme's pleasing, why the theme pursue.
But be explicit—can his potent hand
<e Strew desolation o'er a bleeding land?"
Is he a prince ?—at his imperial nod
Will bending vassals bless him for their God?—
Hysem is none of these; his san&ion'd rage
Can't doom to misery a syrPrifig age.
Nor is he any prince: nor can his nod
Make bending vassals bless him for their God.
But yet he is, nor deem the titles vain,
Generous, indulgent, cheerful, and humane.
Believe the sense of favors past,
'With me will ever, ever last. ( I I
Just gods (he cried), if ardency can win.
Or supplications,  this celestial skin ;
Full grateful is this restless heart,
Th6% Hysem, sometimes doom'd to smart,
From common casualties,  that bring
A sharp, but transitory sting.
And, ah ! since smiling Peace hath spread
Her olive branches round thy head,
O cultivate and let them grow,
To shade thee from all future woe!
This sounds just and pretty, though I do not know on
what occasion it was written ; and, with a pencil, I found the
subsequent lines, which seem in allusion to Hysem's circumstances at that time.
Ah, Fate! for 'tis, alas! to Fate
I owe this sad, unenvied state,
Why am I singled out to bear
The many ills that rankle here I
The taunting voice, th' invidious sneer,
The Sultan's supercilious air?
—Yet, Hysem, stay!—thy murmurs cease 1
Be calm \—be smooth as tropic seas!
Dare not the further wrath of Fate
By vain remonstrances, but wait
The future, glorious, period! when
Thou'lt see thy native shore again.
Yes, the dear shore ere long will rise
And glad once more each exile's eyes.
c (   io   )
If subtle tricks, or proje€ls ought avail
The general cause—let not Brobdingno fail!
But let him, gods—O let him, gods, partake
The casual blessing, and his fortune make !
With rising pain, &s joy's excess is pain,
He wav'd a sheet of copper, look'd, and wav a
A massy sheet—but wav'd, alas, in vain!
For Lucius, arm'd with iron bolts, surveyed
Th^ lovely object of promoting trade *.
I profess, I do flOt perfe&ly sanderstand all I transcribe;
but no doubt the persons mentioned herein, from a knowledge of themselves and their iniquitous practices, will be able
to elucidate and apply the whole: with this expectation I
shall insert,—*
At the sea's margin Dytonisms stood,
His rampant feet just *spurn'd the backing flood j
Hysem (he roar'd), by my best gods I swear,
By glorioujs peelzeb&b* whom I most revere,
By him, and all the underlings of hell-—
I saw you titter whe« the pudding fell!
But this is absolutely 4*i|dntel4igible, therefore I slira/11 saf
no more.
* Since the first rime undaunted Lucius writ,
Lucius to whom e'en Leo must submit, { 11 )   ,
A livid paleness A*er his features hung ;
Doubt check'd the daring effort of his tongue i
The half-breath'd words in soft divisions ran,
And-*—Ma-a-cooke,* the clam'rous siege began.
With eager steps he darts to the attack,
Thrusting some forwards, pushing others back.
And Leo is no little fool, for he
Out-ftrips Pomposo in tautology.
Our Author seems to take singular pleasure in ridiculing'
the absurdities of this junto. They were flippant and nonsensical beyond sufferance; and were I fie* more merciful than
my friend, whose works I am retailing* I should, like him,
(to use his own words)
p Flash confusion on their closing eyes.
But as I am seldom satirically, and never maliciously inclinedj
1 shall draw a sustain over their weaknesses and exclaim—-
gj Alas, poor Human Nature fejj
* Ma-a-cooke signifies trade, and when the Indians saw an
article which pleased them, they used to cry out vociferously
—-" Ma-a-cooke," to induce the possessor to part with it on
commercial terms. And if the possessor assented, the word,
as a demonstration of his will, was repeated by him. Hence
Lucius, from hurry and agitation pronounced it tremulously,
and said—Ma-a-codke, instead of Macooke.
I '   C   2 (     13     ) I
As different ranks their different ways devise,
All to one end—the aggrandizing prize:
But Skinaflinta, torpid witli delight,
In quav'ring silence, gorg'd his vulture sight.
He gaz'd, he sigh'd—the parting breaks between
In scattered brilliance silver hairs are seen;
Again they spread the well-requiting cloak; *
He raves, he falls—Oh, epidemic stroke!
So the unthinking owl, in glare of day
And hungry madness, reels abrpad for prey
With fatal purpose—views the bursting sun,
And finds the ruin Nature bids it shun.
Yet see von blust'ring hero sneak below,
To do the deed he fears the world must know.
Mark how he pushes to yon darken'd place,
To hide at once his purpose and his face.
The bargain foil'd, Pomposot now appears
To deal out principle in oaths and sneers,.
* The otter skins made into cloaks are often the beft; and,
in order to display their excellence, the Indians shake them,
and thereby disclose the silver hairs in the furrows of the fur*
which are efteemed the criterion of beauty.
■f* Pomposo seems to have been honored with especial notice.   In many poems he appears the hero; and in some I        ' ( 13P
Wonders, " God blast me!1' how some men can dq
What he himself has done, tho' not in view.
others he is glanced at with peculiar acrimony .—I have several
whole pieces of composition, which, from their tendency, [can
only retail in abstract, as references may be wanting—Thus:
Not so, Pomposo, impudence his screen,
A cloak to hide whatever's foul or mean.
Moft self-sufficient, yet a very fool;
Fierce to the tame, and to the fiery cool;
Extremely prudent, yet extremely rash ;
A Jerry Sneak, and yet a Captain Flash.
" Sir, damme, Sir!"—and mounts a dismal frown;
Mount one more dismal, and the Captain's down.
In argument most obstinately dull;
For ever empty, yet still thinks he's full.
Lur'd by ambition—Oh!  malicious Fate,
Why with such projects did you load his pate!
Ah! sad decree, that caus'd his tim'rous youth
To leave the paths of honesty and truth,
And climb that mount with feeble feet, an,d slow,
Whence heav'nly strains from graceful Lyrists flow!
O monstrous wish!—with heavy steps to break
Those laurel-fences, form'd for Scipio's sake!
And over and above all this, I have a multiplicity of epigrammatic scraps, which, m corroboration with the preceding
verses, serve to calumniate Pomposo as a character provoking,
and, consequently, deserving the attacks of satire; though*
for my own part, I think my friend is often influenced by (   H  )
Swears paltry traffic is a lowly care,.
Beneath observance: in a Man of War.
«—Dissembler,   cease!—search,   search  thyself
And then pronounce that trading is a sin;
Be not too fierce; say not too much—and why ?
Stern Conscience will return thy words the lye.
To decent trading I affix no shame,
'Tis trading's warm excess-—there lies the blanier
Skins produce cash, and none, save Bub, denied,
That ridbers are to happiness allied.
Then wher^s the fault ?«—why tremble to confess.
Thy inclination leads to happiness ?
Does Clio * acl from conscientious laws,
From balaxtc'd wisdom, or for fools' applause ?
passion or prejudice: and, as a^ind pf annotator, it is. ingenuous to confess as mujchi as I know of him or his poems,
&c-—But would not prudence deter him from stigmati^ng a
clear reputation ?-^-Certamly; ami therefore I conclude Pomposo deserves all, or the greatest part of the censure thus
prodigally thrown upon him.
* Clio, though rather reprehensible in this instance* ap»
pear$a^reat Jfetvourite throughout the whole;, and our Author evf^n,makes the gods, astonished to see that he was capable
of an kjapropriety.-^Thus we read ©f Cli©4u another poem— (  15  )
Or does Opinion's tide his reason drown f
Or dreads he the ungracious Sultan's frownl
No -Blush, astonish'd gods, while I relate,
Forc'd by conviction and impell'd }^y fate,—
From hatred's source his wily maxims flow,
And damn that Friend whom he believes a foe*
The Sultan #—does not even he degrade
His courtly station with abundant trade ?
But Oh, fond Muse, renew thy falling verse!
Bid Gratkude arise and Clio's worth rehearse;
In thankful strains, if thankful strains cau tell,
Repeat his worth—his excellence reveal:
If taste and Judgment, decency and. sense,
Words well selected tun'd to eloquence,
Deserve our b^ft regard, our deference,—
Let Clio's name* while Clio's name shall last.
Grace future time, as it has grae'd time past!
* Is the papers before me, I find the Sultan impeached as
follows, under the title of Dyomsius :—
Coercive wretch!—and must thy recreant hands
Burst thro' the Lord's ineffable commands ?
Revile thy country's best support, and use
The very laws to varnish an abuse ?
Base as thou art, should satire bare the tale,
Thy limbs would tremble, and thy cheeks turn pale, ( I )
Has not he sign'd an edicl:, which prevents,
On pains, on penalties, on punishments,
(Triumphant Satire, at whose laughing shrine
The greatest fools their greatest faults resign ;
Unbounded Satire, whose imperious sway
E'en hardest hearts and softest heads obey),
Tortures, the worst of tortures shou'd infest,
With scorpion stings, thy self-degrading breast;
Unusual qualms—strange feelings should arise,
And prompt Amendment's importuning cries;
And better still—»thy conscience shou'd begirt
To skulk on Virtue's part, and start aside from sin.
j—What will he say—how answer their demands,
When in Britannia's court he shiv'ring stands;
Where aweful Justice dives without controul
Into the deepest caverns of the soul ?
Drags up the secret goods (a nauseous store!)
To the broad day-light never seen before—
What will he do, whose soul's so foul within?
A brothel teeming with disease and sin!
When it is told what things-he did commit—
How wrong'd the   whole?—but much more wrong'd
was P ?
Who, wild and careless, may have been to blame;
But is his conduct stamp'd with deeper shame ?—
Allow it so—Is this then Wisdom's mode
To flog out follies with Oppression's rod ?
Did ever yet—(then answer ye that feel,
To hearts, not heads, is made a fair appeal)— (   17   )
His subjects the same privilege of chance, lest they
By trade more thriving might retard his way ?
Did ever yet—did ever brutal force
Turn the gay passions from their frolic course ?
Did ever yet a gen'rous mind refuse
To yield to kindness, rather than abuse?
Nay, were all Billinsgate before our eyes,
Did oaths in thunder, dirt in whirlwinds rise—
What then accrues ?—the storm, too fierce to last,
Soon spends its fury—then the storm is past.
A word, a look will do just ten times more,
Make the heart throb .and sicken to the core.
List, Dyonisius, hear, and hearing, feel
The force of truth, which flatt'ry wou'd conceal;
Attend, attend,—though, gasping, Honor lies
Panting for life, assassin, fear denies;
Panting for life—a life, already sold
To selfish passions and seductive gold !
Alas! poor Honor, once more rear thy head!
Once, if thou canst 1—'tis past, the spirit's fled—\
Tis gone! Oh, devils, catch the grateful prize!
'Tis yours—the Dyonisian sacrifice.
This asperity I should hope to be the effect of indignation,
and that abhorrence of vice, which every tolerable Christian
ought to avow.—The Sultan is spoken of in another place,
but in too figurative or fictitious a manner to claim our
serious attention.
The moment previous to the Sultan's birth,
Prodigious omens fill'd the heavens and earth;
it (1* ) .
The same, the same—and, to erefl his wW
On grtwands iritfre sure, more parsfeno*d€W*s^stilly
Dispatch'd informants to ransack each chest,
And steal and sink the treasures it possest ?
But Torpus—(vengeful devils, drag that name,
In impious trimnplr, to the cells of »h$tnef)—
The sky, portentous, shot its meteors down,
That for a second gl&r'u4, and then were gone r
From this some drew his glory wouM* Sebright,
But fade ere longUnd set in darkest night.
But what most shock'o/his labouring mother was,
Oh! strange indeed, and terrible the cause,—
Newgate^s extensive portals open flew!—
Out, in confusion, burst the fellon crew;
And from on high, where hung a dismal cloudy
Some god or devil unseen t!lws$spoke aloud-
i Newgate, make room !—set wide thy sounding doors!—
tc Pass out, pass out, abandon'd rogues and w- !
H For soon will come a monster forth, that will,
m With foads of vke, your vacant dungeonT fill !v—i
The spirit ceas'd—the cloud moVd flow, tftey say,
And toward Tyfouarn shap'd its threaVhing way.
-—Oh, memorable place! whese Ate * stood,
Noosing a rope distaia'itf with human blood,
Devising tormearSf and Jack Ketches too,«
Preparing old ones, and inventing new.
* Goddess oitOftnge, ( w )
Hark!—hark !-
*| When at the first t$$s motley world began*,
ii Brute  class'd   with  fellow  brgtte,   and man
with man:
" No honorary tjitles Abel knew*
" He was but mortal—Cain was mortal too :
1 Ah, equal happy times were those !—but now
§ Fate sports in dalliance on a tyrant's brow !—
" Vile laws are made—and for what purpose made?
" To blast our succors, arnd diminish trade?—
" Illusive thought J—curst be the stern decree i—
61 Hold, hokl, my bounding heart!—yet, laws
Biust be.—
" Still why, Jxarsh Justice, seize my journeying
stores ?
6i Why stop their visit to the neighb'ring shores ?"
lie said—and, writhing" with excess of grief.
His burs&iig tears afforded short relief.
Prolific whispers in predictions flew,
Forming a tale, immutable as true,
Persuasive Curioso, gentle youth!
Beheld the noisy qontest and stept forth.
A beauteous shell of polish'd worth he bore,
Found 'midst the strewments of a northern shore.
D 2 (    20    )
Th' inverted colors, in a different light,
Now appear dull, and now appear more bright,
A purple gloss the spacious concave shone;
Transfer the shade and, loi the purple's gone;
A lively green usurps the radiant plain;
Again transfer the shade, 'tis purpled o'er again.
The smiling savage grasp'd the brittle shell,
But, (dreadful case !) in giving back—it fell!
" By heav'n 'tis broke !" the fainting hero cried;
"■ 'Tis lost!—'tis gone !—I saw my shell divide!"
And now wild Fancy o'er the banquet roves,
And what it first admir'd, disapproves.
The copper cups, the iron bars, the clothes,
The pans, the kettles, some defects disclose:
But, lo! a mantle caught her wand'ring cyes9
Of ample spread, and variegated dyes ! *
Not gaudier tints cou'd lavish Nature shew,
In the gay rounding of her painted bow,
* Fancy being perplexed and doubtful what to prefer,
amid such a display of finery,1 is very natural; the relinquishing the objects of her first choice, and descrying hitherto
unperceived blemishes in them, and then suddenly determining the contest by catching at the mantle, is expressive of
the fickleness of an Indian, whom Fancy is here supposed to
personate. ( m )
When show'rs descend to cool the torrid air,
Or ease the lab'ring clouds of loads they cannot bear.
Charm'd Fancy view'd, and forth in raptures
But Judgment slumber! d while the goddess spoke:
1 Oh, Skinaflinta, riot!—roar!—rejoice I
I On this sweet tulip I have fix'd my choice
|* Great gods, look down!—admiring gods, behold
" The silver-seeming streaks, the imitative gold!
" What dazzling hues!—and is it, is it mine ?"
'-—e It is/—| Then take the skin!—the envied
skin is thine!"
Glad Skinaflinta clasp'd the glorious prize:
He wept, he prane'd, and his ecstatic sighs,
In blasts of incense, sought the frowning skies.
X writes to §ir William, plain Billy no more,
Vulgarises my pen, and such trash as before;
I writes to Sir Williams-bear, shoe-blacks, the
Thro' Glisxerpipe-row, Sir William proclaim;
Sir William proclaim, and myself, Lady Betty,
Clatter up and down, round about, all thro' the
* From this lady's extreme vulgarity, it is evident she could
not be entitled to the appellation of Lady Betty, for who could
imagine her the daughter of a Peer? Therefore [ am inclined
to think, that after the knighthood of Mr. Putty, from igno*
ranee she neglected, on assuming her title, to omit her chris^
tian name, which was so familiar to her as Mrs. Putty. I 3SI JL
Oh, ye songsters that warble as sweet as a crow,
Clear your pipes,—and our titles let all the worfd
Oh, ye organs, strike up a beautiful ditty
To the tune of Sir William and me, Lady Betty.
Oh, ye wenches that carry such sweet-smelling
Fresh gathered from Smitfafield's nice green-growing bowers,
Form a May-looking wreath!—but, Sk WilMam,
Lady Betty now speaks, Sir William's best friend,
—Mind, Sir William, be sure don't make free
With  ragged a- *d scrubs;   and when  you'
names me,
Don't bellow out " Bet!" but trust it I'm true;
Use the titles as often as I do to you.
I pack'd off a sarvant, and am I to blame,
For dropping the tally and, calling me m-a-a-m ?
Says I—Do you think plain mistress I sCill am ?
Why, you hang-gallows bitch, I'm the wife of
Sir William!—
So I ups with the p ss pot from under the bed,
And slap dash I sends the contents at her head. ( n )
1 1     II'
l   ;!
Tis a sad thing, dear Billy—but, insolent pen.
Dub Sir William, how dare you write Billy agen!
'Tis a sad thing, Sir William, for a Lady like me,
To swallow the gab of a mopsy like she.
But whilst I has breath, which I hopes will be long,
I will live as I ought, in what they calls the tong.
Sweet Sir William, consider, we must be polite,
For I am, "my Lady," and you are, 1 Sir Knight."
It argufies nothing 'bout this and 'bout that,
The pot-houses' slang, the tea-tables' chat,
We must be polite;  and we must buy a chair,
Then some folk will envy, and more folk will stare.*
When we drives to the Spaw, to guzzle down tea,
The lap-dogs, the children, Sir William, and me,
I O, la!" cries a tramper, I how finely they goes!
" Who the deauce can they be ?—your great ones,
Then somebody answers, confoundedly pretty,
I 'Tis the Puttys !—Sir William, and gay Lady
•   -Betty!"        - . ||.    :. ; .
O blessings onblessings!—the blood rushes down
To the tip of my toes, from.the top of my crown.
* " And more folks will stare" 1 should rather suspeft
this to be the case. I   35   )
Good gracious, how nice!-
•But, Sir William,
Lady Betty it is that thus scribbles to you;—■
LadyBefrty—Sir William-—the words are so sweet;
Lady Betty—Sir William—Ah, 'tis such a treat!
Lady Betty—Sir William—so pretty, so new;
Lady Betty can scarce bid Sir William*	
Adieu !
I have an epistle written previous to the above, intitled—-
« From Betty to Billy/' which is often alluded to, and more
particularly in the first line: but, though it possesses some
degree of humour, I cannot offer it to the public eye; nay, its
very humour is a sufficient preventive, as, I am sorry to observe, that humour is indelicate, and therefore exceptionable.
In a small book entitled {j Slumbers," I find a sort of apology, and the disavowal of any malicious intention toward th*
persons who are the subjects of the above : It runs thus:
Scarce my eyelids were clos'd,
When a tap on the shoulder—I instantly woke.
Lo, a goddess appear'd, and thus smilingly spoke :-
" My name is Good-Nature: with sorrow I've seen
<f Your petulant writings degraded with spleen:
|| With sorrow I read late epistles you pen'd;
*f€ Pomposo says true, they were made to offend. (   •«■   )
(< Your Muse is a truant, severe without reason,
" Breaking insolent jests, and jests out of season—'
" Ah, why thus unkind!—why malice provoke!—
t( Why1 forfeit esteem for the sake of a joke!
Ah, once you enliven'd my gentle domain,
And e'en then I indulged your satirical vein,
" But not in the dress which it lately appear'd,
| Insignificant; tawdry, bepatch'd, and besmear'd;
st Glossed over, thick painted—the surface was neat %
" But scratch the enamel, and- plain was the cheat;
" Too plain was the cheat—a false composition;
" Little malice, less wit, and a store of derision*
" Yes, once I assisted, and laugh'd as you sung,
" But then your gay theme from mere pleasantry sprung,
" Perhaps sprinkled with humour, or tin&ured with sense j
s' Candour heard and applauded, or fram'd a defence:
" But now" Oh, goddess! I cried,
Forgive what is past, and henceforth be my guide! AN
t^fmrsBag, 3fanuarp i, 1795*
J\ little book I have, which says
There's nothing so unsafe as praise;
It feeds ambition, fosters hope,
And gives protracted nonsense scope;
In fine, it says, praise turns the brain,
And makes the prais'd, or mad, or vain,—
Thus far my little book; how true
The words, will soon be found by you ;
As I, since that unlucky time
You read and prais'd some foolish rhyme,
Have supplicated, day and night,
The Muses to assist my flight;
But not like Lucius—out of sight;
E   2 (   28   )
For Lucius, when his loaded pen
Is aim'd me and better men,
When he the lyric track pursues,
On his fleet hobby horsic Muse,
In guest of common birds and game,
As all attraft such sportsmen's aim,—
Away thro* ambient clouds he flies,
While Reason drops her stricken eyes;
She cannot, dares not, will not trace
Th' adventurer in his covert chase.
But what is Reason, pray, to him ?
The rash, the senseless child of Whim-
Yet, peace!—hath Satire once again
Deluded my meandering strain?
Hath Satire drawn my thoughts astray
From the delightful, flow'ry way,
Where love—and all to love is due,
Supported as it is by you—
Oh, Bob! your constancy is such
It cannot be extoll'd too much!
Illustrious pattern!—fit for those
Who falsify their sacred oaths.—
Ah, Mary ! happy is thy lot;
Tho' absent long, not once forgot. (   29   )
Yes, every day his thoughts are bent
On thee, my pretty innocent!
And every night, thou art the theme
Of each enraptured, happy dream—
Not so poor Florentina!* who
The god of love shot thro' and thro',
The god of love, whose missile dart
Lacerates the suffering heart.
Oh, Florentina! gentle maid!
Dost thou still seek the pensive shade ?
Dost thou at night thy sorrows tune
(On thy sweet Jew's-harp) to the moon?
Oh, Florentina ! tell me how
Thou couldst believe his faithless vow ?
How couldst thou trust the winning tongue
Where late triumphant perjury hung?
How couldst thou trust his treacherous eyes,
Where ruin, certain ruin lies ?
* Alas! ill-fated Florentina! I knew thee once in the
vigour and bloom of health—I knew thee ere "a cruel spoiler
came and"——Reader, if thou hast compassion, if thy gentle
heart is capable of commiserating the misfortunes of deluded
beauty—of fallen innocence!—-join with me in execrating the
Monster whose barbarous machinations made that villainy
triumphant which he long afFe&ed to glory in and enjoy. Each cautious tfair with cause suspe&s
The looks and speeches of our sex;
The softest,  sweetest words we say
Are often spoken to betray:
And as for looks—the infectious smile,
Tho' charming, is but full of guile:
Therefore I charge thee once again,
Avoid deceitful barbarous men!
And should they talk of friendship, be
Upon thy guard, and warn'd by me1
By friendship (hypocritic boast)
Many a reputation's lost.
Incredulously treat such friends,
They only serve their wicked ends;
Their wicked ends once serv'd—no doubt
The blazon'd perfidy comes out.
In vain the victim weeps her fate,
By sad experience taught too late!
In vain she pleads his broken vow !*—
Her fame is gone—as thine is now !
In vain, alas! she may complain,
And curse the author of her pain.
The author of her pain is fled
To seek some other .destined Jgiaid, (  31   )
To practice the same perjuries o'er
And do as he hath done before.
But, Oh, Bombasto, tho' thou art
Thus dangerous to the female heart;
But, Oh, Bombasto, tho' we trace
An angel's features in that face;>
The* ev'ry beauty, ev'ry churm,
Adorns thy love-inspiring-, form-*—
Yet, yet forbear, for future shame
Shall overtake and blast thy name ;
Sorrow shall pain thy aching breast,
Compunction shall abandon rest;
Horrors and tortures shall ensue,
Thy days be wretched, and be few,
As many days will not be given
To importune insulted Heaven ;.
Thy God will leave thee, as thou left
The fair " of every hope bereft"—-
But stop—no further I'll proceed !—
My wounded soul begins to bleed—
I can't proceed, my senses grow
Affected at this sight of woe:
Let gayer, sprightlier themes prolong
My immethodic, rambling song. »
( 32 )
Come frolic, Fancy, and impart
Fresh spirits to my plaintive heart I
Oh, heaven-fed Fancy, deign to shine f
Inspirit every languid line !
Raise these drooping thoughts, and shed
Thy magic influence on my head !	
If Oh, hither, come!"—whilst I begin
The opening of some pleasant scene;
Some pleasant scene, but not severe.
Fools, ye have nothing now to fear.
Pomposo, Lucius, Aspen, all
Historians, poets great and small—
Attend, attend—whilst I begin
The opening of some pleasant scene.
* #        *        *
'Twas in a certain shady cove,
Propitious to—to—gentle love,
Where youthful shepherds	
* * *        *
Alas! I was obliged to pause,
And from an unexpected cause.
Ah me, Ah me ! 'tis all in vain!
Alack-a-day!—the pastoral strain
I never will attempt again. (   33  )
Unlucky wretch!—I must forbear^
So scamper fools, and have a care.
Pomposo, Lucius, Aspen, all
Historians, Poets great and small—
Precipitately haste away,
Or else the hindmost falls a prey—
Begone, or else I shall catch one,
And he that's caught is sure undone;
My savage, disappointed mind
To boundless vengeance is inclined;
Safety's in flight They all are flown-
No, no, not all, but all save one,
Who stands the threat'ning storm alone—
It is Pomposo—then begin
The opening of some pleasant scene.—j
POMPOSO shew'd, from earliest days,
An unabating wish for praise;
He had a most invet'rate zeal
For writing much, and writing well,
And to secure, in short, his aim,
He once, and thus, petition'd Fame:—
§ Oh, goddess of immortal sway,
| Hear what a suppliant hath to say ! ! I
' Hear what his fervent lips implore *
i Oh, goddess, hear!—he asks no more,
4 Pomposo longs to wffte—ah} tfeteii
6 Assist, inspire his ready pen I
e But for a moment donrt suppose
4 He longs to write in vulgar prose;
1 No, no; his fingers itch with fire,
6 To bang about the poet*s lyre j
4 Oft have I tried-***but Fortune, still
4 Unfavoring, counterwork* d my will.
) Verses 1 made, and sent me to
i The papers ; but that woiiM not do;
4 The editor refund admission,
4 So desperate was my condition.
\ Yet these indignities I bore;
6 And more repuls'd I strove the more ;
6 I sweated, puifclext—and again
4 E'en these endeavours turn'd out vain!
4 Therefore some way, Oh, pray devise,
c By which thy s&^plic&ilfc'ftiay rise !**—-
He ceas'd.
The goddess smii'd,  as well she knew
The most hi$ftr$tian powers cou'd do j ( u )
Yet rather being on mischief bent,
She approv'd, and granted her consent;
|| Dear, hopeful, precious youth," she cries,
While pleasure* lighted up her eyes,,
Thy wrongs have ]?een exceeding great,
For one so very obstinate;
But since thou scorn'st abasing fear,
B And boldly chose to persevere,
'Tis pity—and I won't behold
Thy genius in oblivion mould.
Then, O retain th' advice I give,
I So shall thy rescu'd honor live-^.
" Seek out the temple of that goddess
I Where men repair to ease their bodies;
" Hence to her golden tripod, wher$
" Men once a day at least regain
I Besmear the walls—the w&lls are fit
" To bear th' effusions of thy wit;
I Write any thing~-*-Hnwearied write f
% Success shall crown thy toil, and $«-■W$i
She fled.
Pomposo, comforted, began
To think himself another man;
f  2 I
( 36 )
And so, alas! resolv'd to follow
The doctrine, and insult Apollo.
Each several midnight watch that came,
He ponder'd o'er the advice of Fame,
While ever and anon a sigh
Proclaim'd the Muse's travail nigh ;
And, lo! the midwife pencil, brought
Into life each beauteous thought.—-
The sequel of my tale is known
To many more than me alone.—
Was this Pomposo ?—was this he,
Whose lawless power gall'd the free ?—
Was this the demi-god, who made
Such havoc 'midst contending trade ?—
Was this the demi-god, whose soul,
Fierce and tumultuous, scorn'd controul ?
At whose imperious, aweful look,
Jasper with apprehension shook?	
The very same!—but whence this heat?
I feel my glowing bosom beat,
I feel contempt and anger rise,
Pride, and abhorrence, and surprize,
At these strange inconsistencies.
Yet peace!—hath Satire once again
Deluded my meand'ring strain ? n'
(   37   )
Hath Satire drawn my thoughts astray
From the delightful llow'ry way
Where Love—whose uncontested sway
This tender heart must still obey;
Still must it bounce and beat, and still
Pant up and down, and throb, and thrill
For thee, Sophia!—Oh, that name
Shoots sudden vigour thro* my frame!
Angels! methinks I see her face
Beaming forth etherial grace!*
o o
• Could our author be seriously and so strangely infatuated ? I knew him well; but I never knew he could s"o far
degrade the delicate sentiments he professed, as to lavish such
indiscriminate praise on so unworthy an object. She appears
at once, illiterate and abandoned, without even personal allurement to conceal these deformities: therefore let us believe
Sophia, a creature of his own brain, a fictitious character, invented, perhaps in the idleness and playfulness of fancy, for
the purpose of promoting merriment and irony.—He speaks
in raptures of her singing—
Oh, what sweet sensations had I
When she sang the % Bonny Laddie!"
When she sang, and smil'd to see
Her moving hints affected me;
for such plain.hints on me she'd throw,
And sigh, and look, and quaver so,
And squeeze my hand, and pinch my toe, (  38   )
And those sweet lips, and sweeter eyest
Are fix'd on me in soft disguise;
While I sate trembling, and unable
To lift my eyes from off the table,
Save when they stole a glance, and then
Drop'd to their humble birth again.
Sometimes the company wou'd jeer,
And ask me—how I felt it here ?
Meaning my heart—f' Ah, will it break ?
§ Does the restless flutterer ache ?—
% Alas! he minds not what we say !■—
*f He's surely in a desp'rate way!
Go to the woods, poor wretch! and there
Hide, 'midst their shades, thy love-sick care!
Go to the deepest streams and drown
The sorrows that thus weigh thee downI—-
Yet, courage, lad 1 be not afraid!—
Buck up, and kiss the willing maid!"—*
Sophia who, as well as I,
Disliked their ill-timed raillery,
Replied with heat—" I never saw
*c Your fellers, fags, in foolish jaw !«—
t€ The woods, and streams, and shades, and stuff!
*f I'm sure the young man's well enough:
*c This blessed night you have not heard
m From out his gills a single word,"     B|
' 1
l (   39   1
Yes, full on me they always gaze,
Altho* they swivel different ways.*
Oh, that time—that time—Oh, when
We parted, wept, and met again !
" Take," she cried, " young fellow, take
8 These gloves, and wear for Sophy's sake!
" And when you puts "ens on—Ah! do
I Remember her that thinks of you!—
1 God bless mel—-fags, 'tis hard to part;
1 I feels—Ah, feel this Ik tie heart!**
And then the tempting syren prest
Her left hand to her dexter breast ;f
While I stood motionless with woe,
And only sob'd out—Ah 1 and Oh!
Which she perceiving, soon began
Her consolation, thus-—" Young man,
P I knows, I sees your wast distress,
" But how can Sophy make it less?
I apprehend
* S Yes, full on me they always gaze,
te Altho' they swivel different ways"	
Miss Sophia squinted.
f The lady's professions are to be suspected of hypocrisy;
the placing her left hand on "her dexter breast, seems as if she
was even ignorant where the heart lay, and such a mistake
could not be -very flattening to her lover. '
(   4°   )
To make it less, would only be
To wish your love might end for me.
Yet, Ah! remember when I goes,
What, perhaps, may calm your woes—>
Remember, that this heart alone,
This heart (to falsehood quite unknown)
And hand, young man, are both your own!
That is, when I can get on shore,
And leave that lousy, stingy M r :
You never know'd, in all your days,
A feller of such dirty ways;
He is so stingy, that I swear
I an't got never a gownd to vear;
He never gid me ever since
I left Bengal, a piece of chintz;
And smauks—I really to purtest,
This bad one is my very best:
It was but t'other day I said—
I vants that ribband for my head,
As he had almost sold the whole,
(But as for that, he^d sell his soul) —
Veil, so says I—I vants that blue;
Veil, so says he"—* And I do too;
.Therefore pray -keep those paws away,
And if you vants, vhy vant you may/—
ii a
{   4*   )
*e Now tblfc h shameful, for I'm sure
" I was not horn or bred up poorj*
P I never sin siich days as these !
!' Before I tzav&l'dl the salt seas^y
" But curse fch& seas J and curse ths placs
§ I first elap'd eyes upon his face!"—
She paused, |
At length, «f uh pity and surprise,
I utter'd, 'midst a cloud of sighs,
Kneeling, and weeping as I tojelt,
( Oh, what my faithful bo&om felt!)
i Ah, Cease! |k..   -:^.. tlr .||p-  /  .   .:   e  a
<c If gownds and swanks <ean make thee blest,
1 Hush thy teinpesfrious thoughts tQ rest I
I Look forward to auspicious scenes,
I Coaches-and-foixr, and palanquins;
1 The gaudieft silks Bengal can bpaft,
1 And linen of the finest cost,
I Jewels, and ^'monitjs, pearl $ecklaces,
<; Hookhas and pins, and tooth-pick-cases,
*; Watches and rings—so be at ease!
| These thou shalt have, and more than these/*. (   4*   1
—I stop'd< -She rais'd her list'ning head r
A lovely blush her face o'erspread,
A lovely blush! the vermeil rose
Could not a sweeter blush disclose ?
She sigh'd—I caught her in my arms :
" Whence," I exclaimed, " these fresh alarmis ?
*c From whence these sighs ?—these  blushes*
whence ?—
I Speak, nor distract me with suspencel"
But, as my playful spirits fail,
I must cut short th' insipid tale,
Which, by the bye, is known to you,
Better than I could tell it now;
Besides, 'tis time the scroll were done,
Since it commenced a year ifrgone.*
So compliments to all I know,
J. S— -t, S e, O—-d and the beau>
And to the reft unmention'd, say
The best things in the prettiest way.
* This Letter was began the last day of the year* and
finished in the morning of the first ofJunuary (   43   )
And, Ah, my sportive Muse, adieu!
This is our final interview I
With thee reluctant must I part,
For studies alien to my heart.*
# Astronomy and'lfefathematic&r
•^l im~fi
To Parson H^^ll, drld his Friend Dr. J—d.
X is resolv'd no longer I'll carry the farce on,
So adieu, O adieu, niost irreverent parson!
No longer the Middy s, their capers and rigs,
Drove poor me astray, like poor M'G—'s pigs I
No longer the arts, or sciences suffer,
Or thy patroness, Wisdom, no longer I huff her;
No longer shall folly's fania&fie&l train,
Upturn the best ware in that locker, my brain:—-
Sweet Doctor, adieu! altho' 'tis quite plain,
You have been devour'd, and spew'd up again;
Altho* your poor tody, yet still poorer spirit,
Gives freely to vice the sole tribute of merit; I   45   j
Altho' at M'G—-'s fflethodbfkal nod,
The sycoph&fil bows' to the sycophant god %
Allho' at hii> sfefirig yon humbly attend,
And aft as a servant, yet still art call*d ynVn/£—*
A1&&! two adom'd wretches of caprice and whim.
The PaftfSii and yOti are Subservient to him;
For 'tis ' Do6tor* andi Doctor,' and Parson all day,
Who I   think  cleans his shoes,  who  I'm sure
ought to pray.
But where are the pigs?-*—*' Go,  Parson, and
fiftd 'e^n $
| Take a rope round your shoulder, and pr'ythec
fast biftd 'em*
*■* When1 tMy are s^tor'd,. dsreftly come back,
" And write lies to V—r. William, put by
th' arrack,
% Here Come the damn'd Middy s;  the bread*
basket hide,
" AncTunder the table the liquor-case slide-—
" But never mind, William* produce 'em again;
" I reason and reason* but reason in vain.
"O Lord,  what's g6od-nature ? —- 'tis sweetei*
than honey,
I And all things, but the cause, which is certainly money—
a Mil
(    46   )
|| Produce 'em again, here come* R~*-t B—e,
| And al§o his cousin,, the mischievous Harry,
" Whom some people say is so pleasant an<j
" But I never saw it—did you, Doctor?"—[ Never."
I Yet still, I don't know—the fellow has wit."
c Ye*,' echos the Doctor, J there's something in it/
Thus ended his speech, the old hypocrite smiles^
And a grin the soft face of the Doctor defiles;
E'en the Parson approves, and lavishly civil,
Paints an angel the man ten times worse than the
devil. j
O Parson! O Parson! tf that's your profession,
Transgress not yourself, nor aid other's trans*
. ^rse&siorx,
But turn to the Bible, recourse for a sinner,
And best of all things, save the Governor's din-r
Oh, turn to the Bible ! vast volume of reason,
A garden of fruits, tho' seldom in season!—
Then turn to the Bible, and this recollect,
If you don't profit yourself, don't others infect.   . (  47   1
Your religion thus gone, since 'tis prov'd oa
And gone, O Lord save thee! past all resurrection,
111 resume my old theme, and with eandou?
On your maxims in love, as a rev'rend gallant*
One instance will do; turn your thoughts up to
Bid Memory rise, if you think you can trust her:
The weather was fine, I walk'd out t'other day
In the Crucifix-ground,   and met you in my
Then wits, statesmen, and poets in every station,
-Engross'd a great share of our Iearn'd conversation;
Till you, Sir, I suppose to vary the theme,
Told what  Fancy would blush  to relate in a
Of balls and amours, and high*rank and high-
Jn which you ne!er mingled (B—-11 observes-} save
in reading*
■m (   48   )
Mrs. H—-y, dear namef—Oh, naf&e ever^ar?
She punctually gave you six hun4red a year!
O Jesu, preserve me! I laugh all the Jimej
0 Jesu, have mercy!—I cannot find, rhyme;
1 cannot find numbers my thaiaghts to rgireal;
But review your past conduct, and judge what
;   I feel    ■ e - J.    —;-|
Then k was but last night, be speedy my Muse
And blaze forth what the parson must blush to
Be speedy, my Muse, a tiuth horrid unfold,
That will make e'en an H~~^-ll abasfa'd to behold; :    :||
A truth that will make e'en his impudence fly;
A truth that will give supposition the lye:
A truth like a shot, that will shatter his frame,
And turn his pale cheeks- to de@p scarlet with
Then it was but last night, be speedy, my Muse,
And blaze forth what the Parson must sink to
Then it was but last night—J fauUer again,
And try to proceed; but, alas! 'tis in vain— ■It
(   49  )
Pluck up spirits, my Muse, take a dram—
will do-—
Out with it at once, tho' 'tis dreadful as true;—
Then it was but last night, when your brains
were a-float;
When you put on the brute, when you threw off
your coat,
When language obscene freely flow'd from your
When you boasted of things which you never
had done,
When you wanted to fight, but only were able
To kick up a riot and knock down the table;
Ah, then recollect the hoarse-threatening sound
That   foam'd   from  your mouth,   and  spread
laughter around:
1 Come, dogs, fly upon me! unkennel your fury!
I Here I stand, as you see; here I stand my own
" Come, all burst upon me!—will none of you
1 I'm ready, I'm ready" a wag added—M To
s te. ■1 1
I ■ I \
( 50 )
O hell, o'er whose roof clouds of honor arise,
Where the daemons new torments on torments
Where mad raving wretches are heard to complain
In loud groans of sorrow and wild shrieks of
O ye damn'd, double damn'd, that its confines
Wou'd ye not refuse such a profligate guest ?
m  ?■■■?
'.i    »;• :,■?,!■ t ADVICE.
IT.ere I am—nay, startle not,
Once I was thy mess-mate, S—t.
Ii Hark!—methought I heard a sound
" Issue faintly from yon ground"—
Here I am—nay, startle not.
Once I was thy mess-mate, S—t;
But now plung'd in darksome shades,
Through which no ray of hope pervades
Sullen, doleful; but attend
To the dictates of thy friend:
While thou liv'st—live ever free;
Shun a ship that swims the sea,
A certain ship, wherein doth dwell
Satan and his flaming hell;
Where confusion, madness reigns,
Where Oppression clanks her chains,
h *
■A (    52    )
Where desponding victims lie,
Scarce alive, yet 'fraid to die,
Wretched victims, such as I;
Where whatever that is bad,
Mean or blackguard, may be had;
Therefore pray, O pray attend,
To the dictates of thy friend!—
While tho^fiv'st—li^e ever free;
Shun a ship that swjiw&he sea,
A certain ship, wherein doth dwell
Satan and his flaming hell;
Let no promises have weight
To make you change your present state-
Promises—Ah! what are they ?
Jack-o'-lanterns, that betray !
To H.  M. 0*****D, Esq.
Written at €>ca+
%J*****D, my monitory friend,
To you this hasty verse I send;
To you, whose unassisted eye
Its merits and defects can spy,
And candidly give both their due,
By censuring and approving too,
Not like my soft soothsayers here,
Whose adulation springs from fear;
Not like my hardier foes, who join
To throw disgrace on ev'ry line,
On ev'ry helpless line—Ah, me !
Ungenerous, unkind decree! (   54   )
But, more than even these, I dread
Your critics that are over-read,
Brim-full of knowledge, which they glean
From some illiterate Magazine;
A few quaint words and common sense,
Corrected by the Accidence:
Hear Leo, as he talks in state,
The champion of some fierce debate;*
# Leo, I fancy, was a member of the Notorious Club; in
those days judiciously denominated—<( The Philosophical,
" Political, and Poetical Club." They used to assemble before six o'clock in the evening, and allowed themselves till
nine for the discussion of different subjects: I once hear^
myself a debate, concerning the election of a new member,
which our Author, it seems, has not forgotten:—
Then, turning to his trusty pro&or,
A certain sly, sagacious Doctor,—
Sf My friend, to whose assistance I
I On perilous occasions fly—
j| Tell me, as thy undoubted learning
S Is deep—so deep, 'tis past discerning—
" Tell me—shall I, or we, elect him,
*' Or, as incapable, reject him?"
He paus'd. The Doctor never said
A single word, but shook his head;
And, pointing to the President,
Refer'd the weighty argument. (  55   )
Hear him declaiming as he sits,
(Leo the very first of wits),
While gay Democritus is seen
Splitting his sides with merry spleen
Then to the President once more
The words were spoke, as spoke before -—
" Tell me—shall I, or we, elect him,
H Or, as incapable, reject him?"—
i Leo," the President replied,
i Inform us how he's qualified ;
P Say, are the membranes of his tongue
*' Sufficiently acute and strong,
jj To argue fast, and argue long?
" To argue on the subjects which
" Rise far above all vulgar reach ?
" Those mighty subjects which we chuse,
" Subtle, elaborate, abstruse?—
*' Say, can he argue day and night,
m Thro' thick or thin, or wrong or right ?
" Can he all common sense defy ?—
1 Is he, in short, like you or I ?"	
** —Like you or I ?—he! never! never"
(Leo rejoins) " was half so clever!"
Yet, 'tis plain, he does inherit
A share, and no small share, of merit.
I've seen him oftentimes confound
The gaping concourse gather'd round;
Poor Bob would blush, and Hysem too,
Look (as the phrase is) mighty blue. (   56   )
But Leo argues for his sport,
Satyric poetry's his forte ;
Free rush, regardless of controul,
The rapid numbers from his soul,
Uncircumscribed by servile art,
From which a poet must depart,
A free-born poet, who disdains
To wear the tyrant-critic's chains;
Uncircumscribed by frozen rules,
Taught in pedantic, rigid schools,
As such the rant of every Muse is,
That a few ill-spelt lines produces;
And, O d, wonder not that they
Shou'd scamper from the beaten way
Where you and I are doom'd to stray;
As, warn'd by Prudence, you and I
Must with some rules, at least, comply :
Yet, why detraction?—ought we to
Blame what our brother scriblers do ?
Fame spurs 'em on, and Fame oft leads
To the atchievement of great deeds:
Hence our brave C re explores,
'Midst ambush'd perils, unknown'shores;
And hence his philosophic mind,
Calm, and intrepidly resign'd, |(  57  )
Is well prepar'd, and quite content
To drawl out life in banishment;
He seeks not home,  else seeks it so
That none his destin'd track can know;
He seeks not home, or, with delay,
Wisely prefers the longest way :
Four years of labor now are gone,
And yet more labor to be done,
As at the close of ev'ry year
New projects rise, new views appear:
Yes, let us quibble as we will,
Fame is our ruling bias still;
Ask Stentor* what he thinks of fame;
Stentor will tell you just the same,
* Stentor was, with his friends Leo and others, a member
also of the Notorious Club before-mentioned	
Gods, for a flow of rapid words,
Such as vociferous Bab affords
When he taps his pregnant topic,
Wild, obscure, and philosophic:
Or for a more incessant flow,
Such as harsh Stentor might bestow
When he twists his controversy,
And contradicts one without mercy;
I *
(   58   )
And he, on no wild frantic plan,
As he's no speculating man,
No speculating man who tries
To puzzle the dup'd world with lies ;
And he*—will speak from what he knows.
Witness his sheets of rhyme and prose ;
To common language bids defiance,
And gleans from ev'ry art and science;
And Johnson's dictatorial pages,
Technical and far-fetch'd phrases —
Undaunted reas'ner!—how he talks!—
O Bab he beats 'en, three by chalks,
Not but thou art as supreme
In vast stupidity, as him;
But he, when fault'ring nonsense fails,
And his antagonist prevails,
Flies, frets and foams, and has recourse
To noise, intemperance, and force;
Just like his Greecian name-sake, who>
If tradition tells us true,
Cou'd fifty voices with his own subdue—
Go, mount the rostrum, and display
Thy eloquence in some begging way,
That passengers may stand and stare
At thy quaint words and rampant air,
And clap their rabble hands, and roll
Their plaudits on thy breathless soul. \x
(   59   )
Such gentle prose ! such simple rhyme!
To slander either were a crime,
A crime which I wou'd not commit
For all Pomposo's subtle wit:
No, thank my stars, tho' now and then
I dash my ink at shameless men;
Yet to bespatter, or suppress ^fjg
A bard's small worth, or make it less,
Is more than my sick soul cou'd do,
Tho' Jasper's scrolls appear'd in view-
Jasper!—be circumspecl:, rash Muse!
And, O some other subject choose!
O be advised!—a man of might
Can well resent what'ere you write ;
Let the great scribble as they please,
Nor dare to interrupt their ease;
Fall on the unresisting, weak—
Raise your loud tongue—in thunder speak;
But shun the scribbling great!—O be,
Rash Muse, this once advis'd by me!
In vain the wisest things we preach,
Unaided by the flow'rs of speech,
'Tis rhetoric, that mellifluous art
Which captivates the willing heart:
i 2 ( 6° )
Hear graceful Caliban harangue
In free, spontaneous, native slang;
Mark how his auditors, how they
His oratorio pow'rs obey ;
At ev'ry witty word he speaks,
Laughter inflates their ruddy cheeks,
At ev'ry moral sentence, then
They wonder, and look grave again :—
Yes, 'tis too true, in vain we preach,
Unaided by the flow'rs of speech:
My Muse she points, and cries—| look there;"
Who cou'd behold them, and forbear,
Lucellus,* the dull wretch of pride,
With prim Rodolphof at his side;
* I Lucellus, the dull wretch of pride" This, I fear, is
too satyrical.    In another place Lucellus is thus spoken of:
But who is he with that terrific air,
That struts and frets, and seems to cry—" take care,
f Prim Rodolpho, appears more absurd than criminal, and
our Author only rallies a fault, instead of reprobating a vice.
With implied commendation, he airily goes on	
Oh, blinded rage, these offerings are due,
Good qualities he had—'tis very true;
ft (   6i   )
I grant it, and I must excuse
The turbulent and merry Muse—
" Damme, 'tis I?"- a king, beyond dispute-
Ah no, a subject!—rather say—a brute!
Whose pointed ears, so like the angry bear,
Promiscuous threaten danger here, and there;
Whose heavy paw, by wanton fury led,
Gripes weaker creatures with its clumsy tread-
It is Lucellus—shun his ambient eye,
For where that fixes, pestilence is nigh.
Blest with fine arts, with knowledge and hard words,
A long spun pedigree of dukes and lords,
And yet bold Fate one marring fault records »
What is this fault ? a fault in which he glories,
Of telling o'er and o'er a freight of stories ;
A fault in which a thousand people err,
And yet a fault that scarcely one can bear;
A dreadful fault—a dose of laudnum why ?
Because it poisons sense, and deadens ev'ry eye—-
Oh, fatal boon! a passion to relate
Drv torturing nonsense of forgotten date !■	
This is tfy fault, Rodolpho, which appears
Trifling to all, but to thy neighbours' ears,
That doom'd (Oh, pitious case!) to undergo
The lengthning tale, invariable and slow:
Oh pr'ythee, Sir, the grievous task resign!
And then—what then ?—the offerings are thine. But stay—how many times I swore
I'd never deal in satire more ?
Yet all the oaths we poets swear
Are scatter'd to the vagrant air:
Yet, hark! hark ! hark \—what notes are those ?
They had I a dying, dying close!"-—
Say, is it that pathetic bird
Whose song by day is seldom heard ?
That plaintive bird in hill and dale,
Known by the name of nightingale ?
Ah, no! 'tis he who sings so well,
Known by the tuneful name of B-4.*
* Our Author, in the present instance, has not adhered to
that general plan of adopting a fictitious name to conceal a
real one; but, as 1 have often heard him express great regard
.for Mr. B—1, I shall feel no compunction in transcribing the
ensuing merry thoughts——I
B—1 borrows stories, and, with utmost skill,
Bends their materials to his temp'ring will;
Appropriates to himself a lucky jest,
And at the ' damn'd good thing,' laughs louder than the rest.
And, O he warbles!—Heav'ns, what a strain!
He warbles higher than the eunuch train:
Orpheus, they tell us, made obedient stones
Start from their settled beds to hear his tones; Tis he, whose high, insidious strain,
Strove my Sophia's heart to gain:
But, O d, 'vast a bit, while I
My sonnetteering talents try*
But B--4—-have patience——-Orpheus went to hell 5
And B—1 'will go—sage gipsy people tell!
As 1 have printed this gentleman's name once without his
permission, if I do it again, in the same clandestine way, I
shall continue to hope for his forgiveness, more particularly
fcs what I am about to add does not so nearly concern him:—•
B—1, let me give my bursting passion vent,
And swell each crouded line with my intent
To damn the Spaniards- *
Damn the Spaniards—damn their limbs—
Damn their edi&s—damn their whims—
Damn their hearts out—damn their eyes—•
Damn their causeless jealousies—
Damn the Vice-Roy—damn 'em all—
Damn Arqualio—damn Old Saul—
Damn the coast-^and damn all those, ^
Or him who will not interpose C
To gQt us damn'd Carvallos— 3
Damn the priests—and damn the missions—
Damn their wiles and superstitions—
Damn their lands—and, to be brief,
Damn ev'ry thing but—damn'd good beef!—* A
1 will not, Sophy, dare to praise
That lovely face of thine,
Altho', too sure, that lovely face
Hath won this heart of mine—
I will not say thy love-taught eyes,
Those eyes so very bright,
Surpass the planetary skies,
That chase the gloom of night;
Nor will I say thy fragrant breath
Is sweeter far than hay,
Or flow'rs of the dulcet heath,
Or newly blossom'd may : (   65   )
Nor will I say thy breasts are white,
Or call them hills of snpw; v j
Nor will I say ihey yieI4.*delight,
Altho' 'these truths I know.-
YE pastoral deities, what rhyme!
How beautiful! and how sublime !
Henceforth I'll have ideal flocks,
And falling streams, and craggy rocks :
Henceforth Sophia shall be Philips,
Or Phillida, or Amaryllis;
And I, a gentle shepherd swain,
Must tultie my pipe upon the plain |
But stay, a name Irfirst will fi»d,
To carve -upon the bleeding rind—r-
Strephon ?—yes: how fine 'twflj sound
To all the babbling echoes round,
The babbling echoes, tjiat repeat
Our names so very s®ft and sweet j
Hie, bai^efac|sd RibajLdry, aw ay J
To love 111 trill the Jasnder lay,
K (   63   )
Love shall henceforth my thoughts employ*
Sweet source of ever-flowing joy!
And should I, gods, as-neretofore,
Indignant break the oaths I swore,
Snatch from my frantic hand the pen,
Nor let it brave your wrath again 1
Fr. X oolish, the man who writes—
Aut.  but more so him who fears
Illiberal censures and attendant sneers—
Me!—for my part, the random things I say,
However stupid, in whatever way,
Pass freely from my'pen; nor do I care
What my detractors or admirers are;
I cannot please the World'—to please a few,
Is all I ouarht. and all I wish to do* (   67  ) .    i
Fr,—Let not this itch thy wretched breast invade!—
Ah, truft me, rhyming is a bootless trade!
Aut.—Are my rhymes selfish ? do they condescend
To buoy up greatness? or depress a friend ?
Suns blaze around me '.-—bring my works to light;
Inspect the whole!—examine what I write!
Breathes there a verse—Oh, can one trivial line
Afford objection as to bad design?
Fr.—Your Muse is partial, and irregular,
Sometimes too kind, and sometimes too severe;
She drives—she raves with undistinguish'd force,
Nor Reason, shapes her intellectual course:
Hence, Hysem/s drawn in morning colors bright;
And Furius blacker than the shades of night.
But think what trash not long ago you pen'd;
Trash that can't please, and often may offend;
Trash it must be, Pomposo calls it trash;
And you may smart beneath Poniposo's lash.
Aut. -— That  Heav'n   avert! — forbid  that I
M should be
The sport, the theme of imbecility !
Tho' it -eyas trash, I grant, and such as might
Inspire Pomposo with a wish to write, (   68   )
It might i^r on Pomposo to excel;
And cou'd the man forbear who writes-	
Fr. |§| | so well ?
Aut.—The man who writes so much~  I
Fr.  but seldom sense ?
^z&.—Pshaw !—when words chime ought thai
to give offence ?
So soft, so sweet, his numbers- steal along,
'Twere sin if sense should interrupt the song;
The tuneful periods grating sense might break,
And who'd neglect the sound for judgment's sake ?
Glide on, soft numbers!—Ah, Pomposo, ilill
Invoke the Muses, sweat, and write your fill!
Glide on, sweet numbers ?-M:ake, Pomposo, pains ■;-
Cease not—do any thing; nay, burst thy brains :-
Write, write, Oh, write!—be fearless, and despise
The critic's suffrage,  and the pedant's cries;
Burliness thy aim-, Stupidity thy gua-fd—|
Remain the same, invulnerable Bated f
Fr.—Sitrii blaze around him ! can one trivial line
Afford objection
-as to bad design?
Stop when presumptuous Folly lordly grows,
And claims that worth % which fcerfse alone bestows;" I 69 ))        '  I
When the unblushing Jargon flaunts about,,
In strumpet finery bedizen'd out;
% Who but must laugh?" who cou'd his scorn
To see a scullion in the regal dress?
Fr.—Yet pause: a paper once poor C-*-s found
Spread to derision on the public ground ;
S—o caught his animated view,
L——a in sequence, T——e follow'd toov
Oh, names!  unlucky names ! for these alone
Cou'd make its unsuspected purport known:
He read and wept; the general disgrace,
And Fear's pale ensign trembled in his face:
Oh, ill-star'd maniac!—^how wert thou diflrest ?
Ten thousand furies wanton'd in thy breast:
In brittle dust the trampled bottles lay,
And desolation, clear'd the lint-slrew'd way ;
So when an ox receives a mighty blow,
Madden'd with pain,,he staggers to and fro;
Repeat the blow—^see. see, again he flies,
X ' ' O *
With fury flashing in his blood-stain'deyes ;
Promiscuous ruin marks his frantic tread,
And Mischief points the weapons of his head. I       1  7°   )'
^tf^.rr-Enough, enough; in pure compassion
Nor wound with retrospects my present pea£e.
By Heav'n I grieve !  I do repent the time
I blazon'd such stupidity in rhyme.
Henceforth be free; grub C——s, grub and find
How systems differ in the vivick kind :
Henceforth be free ; botanic L-^—r-a, still
Immerse your paws in operative skill!
And, wretches, should the pregnant clouds let fall46
Monkies, baboons, and apes, dissect 'em all;
But, ah, preserve their skins !  for in that dres§
You'll figure candidates for FRS.
* a
Arid should the pregnant clouds let fall," &c,«< This
is literally founded on a true story, within my own know*
ledge; but it is of such a ludicrous nature, that I cannot,
with conlmon gravity, relate it here.—The part, too, which
concerns the learned body denominated F R S is also, I believe, authentic; but even here I shall remain silent, as it
would ill-befit me (though the Poet has presumed to do it) to
derogate from the allowed honour and utility, of that illustrious society of able philosophers. The first societies have
their weak parts; and although little anecdotes mus.t occur
in the course of centuries, in proof'of this observation, it,
savours too much of arrogance to expose them to the un-
judging eyes of illiterate and splenetic readers; who, blinde.4 (   7i   )
pTt—What madness now ? is this poetic spleen?
From whence this fury ? say, what does it mean ?
Aut.—Oh, had I but regardless P s lyre,
I'd laughing set the wrangling world on fire;
Approving gods, I would; and my despotic sway
The base should tremble at, and fools obey:
But as it is—Pomposo, write again,
Nor drop, 'till death, the self-sufficient pen:
But as it is—ye whisperers, appear
•J X J        X   X
In prudent council at the Sultan's ear^
And insolence shall crow, and merit pirie,
And wondrous merit—Hysem, such as thine.
Fr.—Well, take advice, nor let the empty name
Of Poet, lead thee to mistaken fame :
What profits cans't thou gain?—what honors
boast ?
What one requital for the useless cost ?—
None, none, believe me-—so the labor's lost!
Besides, let common sense	
Aut.—No, never! never whilst this ardent breast
Beats with the wish, shall that wish be supprest!
By ignorance or prejudice, would meanly depreciate that
knowledge, which tends, to the promotion of their own good,
and the good of the community at large* (    ?2    )
Dear (source of pleasure !—gods, how <3fo I -feel
Transportsfew know, and transports none can tell;
Desist! d.-es±st !-*--nor talk of common sense;
I have in #iew an ample recompence;
Imagination-common sense supplies^       £eyes
And laughs, and talks, and charms my ravish'-4
With fairer prospects than yon Tyrian skies*.
* «
Tynan"—expressive of *he fine glow of e<juano6tiat
skies, under whose influence out author was when the above
Poem was written.


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