N m THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GEORGE -W MARSHALL , LL.D. F.S.A. -\ - : : .. POEMS. - E 'yna>tdby Jama Bast* '^LIAM HUTT(WESQ.P.S.A.S..AT. 81 Published by J.N'fhols k Son,if t NovriSo4. POEMS CHIEFLY TALES. By TV. HUTTON, F.A.S.S. L N D O N: Printed by and for JOHN NICHOLS and SON, Red Lion Passage, Fleet-Street -, Sold also by R. Bickekstaff, Corner of Essex-Street, Strand 3 By Knott and Lloyd, Birmingham ; J.Drewry, Derby; J.Todd, and J. Wolstenholme, York; T. Combe> Leicester; and E. Bayley, Scarborough, 1804. y 2/7 i PREFACE. PERHAPS there is no instance upon record of a man like me, upwards of eighty, enlisting among the Poets ; and, for the first time, handing to the world a volume of Verse. I may justly be called " A short-lived Poet." Like my brethren of rhyme, I wish to amuse, but doubt of success. A man may zvish, but not expect. I am not solicitous after profit; but should be sorry if another suffered by my pen. I do not attempt those flights of modern Poetry which demand the whole attention to understand, and often oblige the Reader to recede a few lines to recover the meaning. Here sense is lost in sub- limity ! Nay, I have sometimes doubted whether the matter was understood by any except the a 3 writer. Q^>-.<;^ VI writer. This brings to my mind the remark made upon a school-master "That he wrote two *' hands; one ef them none could read but him- " self, and the other was even beyond his oxvn " ability." My Poems, like myself, are in the stile of the last generation. They boast no language but the intelligent ; neither will the tale admit of any other. They are remarks upon real life, charac- ter, and incident. If the modern flowers of rhetoric do not flourish here, I have substituted something preferable Truth. I believe every one of the tales is founded on fact. Many of them fell under my own eye. The history of my political life is rather singu- lar. Love and Rhyme often start together in the career of youth ; I held both in 1747. One half continued till 1752. During that period I com- posed a volume of Poems, which rested upon the shelf, and were scarcely ever opened, for thirty- nine years. Nor did I write one Poem in the long interval of forty. In Vll In the fatal year 1791, when the mad rioters, encouraged by those who ought to have acted otherwise, found infinite pleasure in destroying more than ten thousand pounds worth of my pro- perty, my poor Poems perished in the flames. If they did not feel, their author did. This loss, but chiefly withdrawing from public business, awoke the Muse, after sleeping a long age. A few of the pieces in the beginning, dated 1752, which remained upon memory, I have in- serted. Though the work should not be so fortunate as to pay the bookseller, or please the reader, it has paid me; for I consider their fabrication among the happiest moments of my life. CONTENTS. IX CONTENTS. THE Poetical Club, 1. To a Lady with her Pocket Book, 3. The frowning Beauty, 4. To a Friend going into the Ministry, 5. Church-and-King-Club, 7. To the corpulent Counsellor W , 9. Lord Chesterfield and the Farmer's Wife, 11. and the Tinker, 17. The Sermon, 24. The Ant, 52. The attentive Shepherd, 37. King Edgar and the Servant Girl, 38. To Miss P , whose Lip was stung by a Wasp, 45, The enlightened Priest, 46. Justice, 50. The Pleasures of Matrimony, 59. The Tobacconist, 85. The Milkman, 98. The Wig, 109. John Bolders, 121. The Coach Horses, 130. The Parson in Pickle, 13G. a 5 The TheCobler, 147. ABC, 164. The silent Priest, 175. A Sermon on the Head-dress of the Ladies, 177. The Jack Daw, 179. The Jealous Head, 211. The happy Family, 229. The Wager, 237. The Double Wedding, 246. Mutation, 255. Election Ale, 258. Health, 269. Reconciliation, 271. The Parish Wedding, 282. The Retort, 289. Long Breeches, 290. The True Lover's Knot, 291. The Pen, 300. Receipt to make a Methodist, 303. Tour to Scotland, 304. To a new-married Man, 311. The Cottager, 315. The Valentine, 316. Triumvirate, 320. The Button, 323. A Precedent, 325. The Cuckold, 325. Happiness XI Happiness, 328. The Lover, 336. The Auctioneer, 338. The Way to rule a Village, 339. The State of Matrimony, 340. The Profits of the Field, 341. The Grenadier, 343. The Way to bilk a Constable, 350. Robin Redbreast, 351. The Coachman's Fall, 354. The Way to Church, 360. To Dr. Chevasse, 361. The Leicestershire Parson, 362. The spotted Coat, 363. The Birth-day, 365. Receipt to .make a Priest, 368. Courtship, 372. The triple Courtship, 379. The Art of Speaking, 383. The timid Lover, 386. The Wedding Night, 388. Preferment, 390. Nancy's -Courtship, Z99. Hay-making, 402. The impatient Lass, 404. The Way of doing Penance, 405. Thirteen Wishes, 40?. Pen main Penmain Mawr, 410. A Day, 410. Maxims, 416. Septennial Stages of Life, 421. The Way to supply the Navy with Liquor, 427. Three Eyes, 428. To the Memory of Sarah Cock, 428. POEMS. POEMS, &c. THE POETICAL CLUB, Who met at the Cock, spoke in rhyme, and pasted their Productions on the Wall. 1 LUTO, offended with a sprite, Discharged from the realms of night, (So masters turn away from school The turbulent they cannot rule.) Her impsbip, in a wretched plight, PatrolPd the streets from morn till night ; Then curl'd her hair, adorn'd her spruce, And took the lovely name of Muse ; Went to the Cock in quest of sport, Where powerful Dulncss keeps her court ; There, seated in a one-arm'd chair, Dissolv'd herself in empty air, Flew to the caverns of each brain, Which drowsy floods of life contain ; B Made Made the slow currents change their tide, And through poetic channels glide : Silence was banish' d in disgrace, And tumult overflowed the plaofc They try to spin harmonious verse, And make the vocal Avails rehearse. Thrice happy Bards, with genius small, Can animate a stupid wall ! O fertile wall, in barren times, Can bear a heavy crop of rhimes. True genius leads to certain fame, But, since her aid you can't attain, To make your feeble names endure, A lump of marble each procure, When shap'd a busto, high in air Place it nine feet in Westminster, This, like the sun, for ages seen, Will keep your laurels ever green. A close connection will appear 'Twixt marble heads, and those you wear, rond'rous they are, by all allow'd, But equall'd by the rhiming crowd ; For, when t icy 're weigh'd in scales together, Yours will he lighter than a feather. One to the other is a sequel, Bec.'U e the brains of both are equal ; Thev, dull, and thuk, and col .1, 'tis true, And this is juot the case with you. 1752. TO TO A LADY, With a Pocket Book, which she refuses to accept till something was written in it. lOUR word's obey'd ; nay, e'en your look Who can withstand ? Receive the book Pale as the morn ere ting'd with red, But empty, as you know whose head To sounding fame has no pretence, Spotless as virgin innocence- Must it be fill'd with dying strains ? The sighs of nymphs, the vows of swains ? With scandal, dress, or China ware, Chief objects of a lady's care ? Or, with Beau phrase, not understood, As, vastly little, devilish good ; With polish'd rubs, that current flow, Though antient fifty years ago ; A list of lovers, or of rhimes, A cure for Pug, or Betty's crimes? Must it contain tea-table heads, Or crippled verse, or silken shreds ? Who can its real worth declare When fill'd with such important ware ? Too few its pages to display The tattle of a single day ; B 2 If And yet the size is much too large If these contents are all its charge. If with such trump'ry it must shine, Let not a soul e'er read a line ; ' Tv iSl issue in your own disgrace, You 'II io,e the ie.irts gain'd ov your face. But, if true merit j ou place there, You cannot fill it in a year. But this advantage then you '11 spy, 'Twiil pleasure give to ev'ry eye; Who sees your f.ice receives a dart, Who sees your book will lose his heart. 175*. THE FROWNING BEAUTY. Jaetrench, ye fair ones, cv'ry smile, And view Belinda's fate awhile ; A wint'ry aspect see her wear, And yet, what Cupids revel there ! Though not one look, my heart to warm, Yet she lias every power to charm. What though no chearing beams are seen. Love springs in me an ever-green. With With eager haste I view her eyesj And see a thousand beauties rise ; Grac'd with a thousand pleasing wileSj Surpassing every charmer's smiles* As frowns succeed, smile not, my fair ; Sol's dazzling ray, what eye can bear ? But let me still thy beauties trace, Behold the frown with every grace. Though each gay charmer I pursue, My heart, still constant, points to you ; The steel may round the compass roll, But, trembling, centres near the pole. 1152- TO A FRIEND GOING INTO THE MINISTRY. I hrough five years tedious space I view Thee, mantled o'er with sable hue; In lofty closet, pent on high, . As if approaching near the sky : Here lie your classics variorum} And their Synopsis vriticorum ; There Dr. Clark, whom none speaks harm on, From him, in need, purloin a sermon. B 3 With 6 With Latin, you the flock may take in, Which far surpasses stocking -making. When walking spruce along the street What eyes you draw ! what bows you meet ! Future directions seem far better, With Reverend fronting every letter. Then, for expressions delicate, The tribe Levitic, imitate Thus, when you in the pulpit stand, Adorn'd with powder'd wig and band. Wlien gloves are in the pocket thrusted, And stud and wristband both adjusted, Your handkerchief and sermon fixt, " Chapter the fourth, and verse the sixth, " My general heads" a hem, " are two " The method which I shall pursue " Beloved Now to be more plain " If time allows but now again " The doctrine brethren come we next " Then in a word to close my text * c The application use I say " Consider what you've heard." This way You '11 gain the wond'ring hearers praise, Thus amply vers'd in pulpit phraise. 1752, THE THE CHURCH*AND-KING CLUB j OR, THE STATE OF RELIGION IN BIRMINGHAM AT THE RIOTS IN 1/91. The Catholics steady, and truly devout, Are so hemm'd in by Parsons they cannot get out j They need not be anxious their own eyes to use, For the Priest will see for them as long as they chuse. The keen Sons at Jacob appear rather low, Their wealth and their honesty are but so, so ; Perfection, they plead, as from Abraham descended, So 'tis not worth their notice to try to be mended j His faith's a soft pillow, without variation On which they deposit their future salvation. The Quakers abundant in riches are grown, And meddle with no mart's affairs but their own ; Thev pay such attention to act as they ought, We should almost declare, they were men without fault, Inilependants and Baptists, but let them alow , They 're peaceable people, and quarrel with none. A Church without blemish is not among men ; Then don't pry too deep, and you '11 find none in them. The Methodists, numerous, herd altogether, And keep their religion quite dry from the weather ; B 4 Im^r^ving 8 Improving in morals, good order, and plight ; Were the rioters Methodists, all had been right. The props of Jerusalem here a place find, From Emanuel Swedenborg' 's love to mankind. May the props never moulder, nor power on them trample, Till the "rest of the Churches pursue their example ! The poor Presbyterians to church can't resort, For cruelty left them no church to support ; The children of 'Satan, let loose, did fire bring,. And made a burnt-offering to Church, and to King. Down tumbled their temples, instructions, and praise, While Church-and-the-King's-men rejoic'd at the blaze. The religion of Meekness, which bids us be quiet, Is the purest religion for making a riot. One class of the people, and hence spring our boasts, Are so fond of divine things, they drink them in toasts. Their church's support comes from eating and drinking, A Church-and-a-King-club prevents her from sinking \. She floats quite secure, on a butt of bright claret, She Ml ne'er find the bottom they '11 find it, ne'er fear it^ The Church-and-King-Club-Men are votaries able, Their devotions ascend with the smoak of the table ; The more they 'II abound, as good eating grows plenty,. And nothing disturbs like a Lottie that's empty : They 're models of meekness, what men can be more When perfectly tipsy, humbly lie on the floor ! For the <>ood of religion, their aopetites cram. And support Church and King with fervent G D . Nov. 12, 1792. TO 9 TO THE CORPULENT COUNSELLOR W- On his being compared to Bacchus. (comparisons are foolish stuff, When they are found untrue ; There 's no two things are farther off, Than Bacchus is from you. Curiously wrought in wood, or stone, And dress'd in smiles, his face, While yours, as ev'ry one must own, Smiles in eternal brass. In fable, I '11 no verse equip, But sober truth will tell ye ; In circumf'rence you far outstrip The God of wond'rous belly. In that great swell, above your fobs, A swell outdone by few, If empty, then a dozen gods Might dance a jig or two. His fees pass under him, through the inn-doors, Yours issue from a flaw, He kindly casts an eye within doors, You, to a Court of Law. One 10 One tongue in silence may be laid, Another talk by fits, But yours wag by the hour, 'tis said, While Bacchus silent sits. He ne'er, in all his days, maintained A tiling that was not true ; Though both are by the bar sustain' d | Can this be said of you ? Besides his grapes, a wreath divin* His sacred temples bound ; He rides triumphant on a sign, You waddle on the ground. Half down, half up, which of the two In kindnesses surpass ; You hack the Presbyterians through, lie offers them a glass. a His bottle makes his clients gay By dissipating trouble ; "Rut yours, their vitals suck'd away, Perceive their cares are double. Naked, he braves th' inclement skies, And overlooks the town, While you , in vain, attempt to rise, And reach a silken gown*- We'll 11 9 We '11 now conclude, as we begun, A subject that allures ; His bauble rests upon his tun, Your tun rests upon yours. Dec. 29. 1792. LORD CHESTERFIELD and the FARMER'S WIFE. The middling, great, and little folk, Express a fondnefs tor a joke j And what man can a joke gain-say, When he, who gives it, m?ans to pay ? jVIy rising Muse shall, now and then, Record the acts of Noble Men. Whoe'er on human worth refines, And glorious in the Senate shines : I '11 never interrupt his course, He shall rise higher in my verse : Let Stanhope then my verse engage, A Stanhope shall adorn my page ; For he, while I his fame make known, Will rather tend to swell my own. An Earl of Chesterfield there were At Bret by Hall, in Derbyshire, Who 12 Who ate and drank, who slept and woke, Soon after Charles had left the oak ; Plain was his person to the scan, As any farmer, or his man ; While others shone in wig and lace, ; He figur'd in a homely case : His manners, too, were like his dress, A compliment could scarce express, For what mouth frhe word Sir can sparer Except it first shall enter there ? He seldom made a courtly bow, Nay, we much doubt, if he knew how. The morning fine, sweet sung the lark,* He stroll' d about in 3retby park ; Whoever saw him would not guess An E ni was bid in such a dress ; The passenger, from town to town, Suppos'd lie saw a brother clown, Was neither struck with joy or sorrow, But give a nod, or said, " Good morrow.* Along the foot-path, he descry'd A wj>man ; he attentive ey'd Her age : we 're not exactly told,. Bu: she was far from being old, Seim'd as belonging to a farm, A basket hung upon her arm ; A large straw hat her temples bind, leck'd with straw ornaments behind^ Her 13 Her apron, and her stockings too, "With handkerchief, were clean and blue j What colours might her garters show My Lord himself did not yet know ; For to a husband should be known The colours there, and him alone ; Her gown, of house'ife's stuff was trimm'd, And carefully behind was pinn'd. " How far away, Dame ?" says the Peer, " To market, with my butter, here." M How many pounds have you to sell ? il And what 's the price ? I like it well." " I've th/irty, and its very nice ; " The weight is large ; a groat's the price." t( Give me the basket, as you 're willing, tl I'll buy the whole. So here's ten shilling. v She seeni'd surpriz'd, but yet obey'd; Such customers she seldom had. $ut, what was her astonishment, When to a large oak-tree he went, And on the root, completely round, He slamm'd the butter, pound by pound. So great a tree, all England through, Had never in May butter grew. In silence she beheld the wrong, JSecause amazement tied her tongue j Puring seven minutes looking on The profits of a week were gone, Hot 14 Her powers within were sorely heated To see such butter rudely treated ; More waste she saw, in that short strife* Than she 'd committed all her life. The neat devices on each pound Were sticking to the bark around, Which many figures made, no doubt, But then it blotted all her's out. The basket, emptied of its ware, He then return'd, with easy air ; While she the martyr'd butter mourn'd, He march' d away, quite unconcern'd. She, too, went back, my Lord could see, But ey'd the man, and ey'd the tree ; Hurt to see butter in that plight, She wish'd the fellow out of sight ; While he, suspecting her design, Rcsolv'd her plot to countermine. The moment out of view was he, She hasten'd to the butter'd tree ; Began the work of separating The clean and foul, for profit-making : A work she always counted good, Which she from childhood understood. " The best would serve for market still, '* The rest would serve to greese a wheel." But ere she could the butter pack, Lord Chesterfield was at her back. What 15 " What right have you, my Dame," says he, " To any thing about the tree ? " To take that property 's a crime, " I bought, and paid you at the time ; " The error lies with you alone " For taking what is not your own.'* Says she, " 'Tis pity to abuse '* Whatever we can bring in use ; " Some trifling purpose I shall try " To put it to." " And so shall I," Reply'd the Earl, without a frown, And instantly he threw her down, Pull'd up her petticoats behind, Regardless both of wet and wind, W 7 hen on her butt-end, slamm'd as free The butter, as he 'd done the tree. The whole applied, with dext'rous art, Instantly swell'd her nether part ; She look'd, for all the world, as plump As if she'd put on a cork rump. The fashion chang'd of female kind, Some swell before, but she behind. 11 There, Goody, as you 're fond of gains, " Take that large plaister for your pains." Then, in a moment, turn'd to go, Regardless whether watch'd or no. A curious figure you might spy, A woman, butter'd half-way high. He's 16 He 's wisdom to a large amount, Who turns misfortunes to account ; Like bees, who follow nature's law, Can sweetness from rank poison draw. This fine accomplishment I name, Was easy to the farmer's dame ; She long the powers had understood, From evil of substracting good. Her fingers did, without delay, Rake all the parts where profit lay ; Then knife applied, to hill and gutter. With which the buyer tastes the butter ; Moulded it fresh, both neat and round ; Her eye could nearly guess a pound. Well pleas'd it was but little worse, To Burton market bent her course, And sold her ware, with profit more Than ever she had done before. Of thirty pounds, but five were wasted ; Her pen-knife neither smelt nor tasted ; Nor did the buyer once discern 'Twas gather' d from the lower churn. June 9, 1793. LORD 17 Lord chesterfield and the Tinker. The lowest class of men mav be Rais'd to state of high degree, Their blackness gone, such brightness shone, That self by self is scarcely known. \V hen we are travelling abroad, We cannot always chuse our road ; But prudent men will pick the best, And cautiously avoid the rest ; " But, should a dirty slough appear;" " What then ?" he never plac'd it there. All that is ever done by man Is to tread lightly as he can ; Thus Poets, with a just decorum, Must take the road which lies before 'em. My road, but take it not amiss, Is not so clean as I could wish ; But rough, or smooth, or dark, or clear, The Muse resolves to send me there j And no reluctance must be seen, I've forty years a rebel been. Which, Reader, will you most decry, A dirty truth, or polish'd lie ? C Leave 18 Leave it to me> and never fear, I '11 not offend the nicest ear. The same Lord Chesterfield I sing, Who dealt in butter in the spring. He rose, he dress'd, went out of door, The lark, and morning, as before ; The lawns, the hills, the clumps, were dress'd, And Summer wore a lovely vest ; Nay, turn his eyes which way he will, He was the only thing dress'd ill. The park most beautifully shone, 'Twas all delight 'twas all his own. At no great distance, with his load, A Tinker mov'd along the road ; He bent his back, he dropt a heap, Which nature would not let him keep. My Lord approach'd, in angry mood, Before the Tinker 'd made all good ; Or, rather, seemed in wrath to run, That he might introduce some fun. " What right have you, you dirty hound, " With your vile filth, to daub the ground ? " This instant take it in your hand, " And clean convey it off the land." Feeling reduc'd by Avhat had pass'd, The son of Vulcan stood aghast ; He neither seem'd inclin'd to obey, Nor yet attempted much to saj ; V *9 . For, when surpriz'd in situations, Rather beneath our usual stations, The mind feels little, to its cost Its wonted dignity is lost. Although his hands no whiteness boasted^ They were not with such stuff accosted j But, if about that work he set, They would become more dirty yet. Much altercation noAv ensued, And all that altercation rude. The Earl grew higher still, and higher, 'Till he blew up the Tinker's fire ; So that, my friend, had you been there, You would have thought both tinkers were. The colour of each face, 'tis true, Were equally of swarthy hue ; For Stanhopes do, in ev'ry case, Hold fairer intellects than face ; And tink'rish, to declare I 'm loath, The polish' d manners were of both, The lance made, Nor strong temptations which invade. Ill-fated woman ! censur'd I0112; Through inward bias and a tongue. But should the world abate a tittle, Relax its scandal but a little, And take the culprit into grace, Smile, and give her a smiling face, Two benefits would thence arise, One please the good, and one the wise. The fruits which come from stol'n embrace Add much to our laborious race V 2 The 68 The whole would into life be led, And not one half be knock'd o' th 1 head. A man may run away, I grant ; But, if his money should run scant, He 'd find that evil such a bar As would prevent him running far. This was Will Martinis case, I own ; He stopp'd at Hinckley, quite broke down. Then should not man some pity find, When money 's gone, and peace of mind ? If tli?;-e two ills await his door, We really think he needs no more. He work'd and play'd with small content, While many a Sunday came and went. For who can act, that thinks he feels A constable about his heels ? Of all the places where there 's rest lie thought a Public-house was best ; Because, should warrants come about, There 's one door in, another out. While in the ale-house he was got, Drinking, with company, his pot, W here, with full freedom, they dispense With every chat but that of sense, A woman cnter'd to the guests, And modestly made these requests : tl i'ii:it her dear Man would quit Ills cup ' ; As soon as he had drunk it up ; " Would 69 f( Would pay his shot, and with her come " To tend their infant flock at home." Not touch-wood to the fire applied, Nor flint and steel to tinder dried ; Not joiner's shavings parch' d in June, To which you put a candle soon ; Nor gin so fierce a flame will catch, When you apply a lighted match, As darted from the husband's eye ; It struck with fear the standers-by. 'Tis wonderful he made demur ; The flame should rather come from her ; For she had cause to be concern'd ; He spent the money which she earn'd. Unite the thunder of a drum With words that from a foul mouth come, With fire above describ'd a little, You '11 see our husband to a tittle. No reason could his vengeance check ; " He 'd break her heart, or break her neck. " To rid his hand he would not fail, '' He "d sell her for a quart of ale." " Your bargain I '11 not disappoint," Cry'd Martin, " I '11 give you a pint." A contract of such magnitude Requires some moments to conclude. For wives, of all the goods we. hold, Ne'er come to market to be sold. F 3 Neither 70 Neither could Martin, I declare, Examine, as he would a mare ; For, in a market, we suppose The buyer strips her of her clothes ; But Martin could not then begin To scrutinize her wind and limb. Hannah, desponding, sat in fears ; Her only language was her tears. Fair decency had mark'd.her dress, Dejected modesty her face ; And every soul alive could see Some beaut}' in her face, but he, Who, of all men, should see it first, Should prudently that beauty nurs'd j For if to her he 'd acted kind, He'd found returns to his own mind. Which proves, to ev'ry one who tries, That happiness within us lies. But we want conduct how to use it, We must destroy it, or abuse it. It proves too, from the husband's tongue, He'd kept his rattle much too long. And what did most his mind derange, It never could admit a change. Whether the contract firm will set, Or not, is most uncertain yet ; The husband, in his price, won't sink,. Nor Martin rise one drop of drink. Hannah 's 71 Hannak *s in equilibrio, Not knowing how the sale will go ; But, like a wife of prudent cast, Shew'd strict obedience to the last, She rather would adhere unto The evils she already knew, Than venture where the ills are sure, Uncertain in their size and cure. For let our state be ne'er so curst, We always wish to know the worst. The husband tried to raise the buyer ; Martin declar'd he 'd go no higher. The pint was order'd, bargain struck, And nothing back return'd for luck. The parties of a halter thought, But this they found would cost a groat. The halter scheme was instant lost, As being twice what Hannah cost. For that same reason neither would Pay fom*-pence that she might be toIPd. While they consume the pint in strife, The purchase of a prudent wife, 'Twas thought a deed would best avail, T" insure the bargain and the sale ; For when a treaty is to last 'Tis needful we should make all fast. An article they jointly draw, Declaring rights in terms of law. F 4 To 72 To all great treaties which are brought on, There 's lesser matters to be thought on : To these 'tis needful that ve look, Like an appendix to a book, Two lovely babes our pair had brought ; And lovely babes are worth a thought : To other fathers they 'd have charms ; One us'd its feet, and one in arms. The first fell to the husband's care ; The last the mother could not spare ; Nay, both so hung about her heart, As caus'd a bleeding wound to part. " And will you sell me r" Hannah cries, While in distress she wip'd her eyes, " From madness will you ne'er recede ? " Has this dear child no power to plead ? " But infant cries were never known " To melt, like yours, a heart of stone. " The time will come when this you '11 rue ; " Repentance I shall leave to you. " My cruel pangs no tongue can tell ! li Preserve my infant babe. Farewell!" THE 73 THE THIRD PART. Why among laws was one forgot, That would have tied the marriage knot ; Uniting in one happy hour The gentle male and female flower ? What would the antients, think you, said, To wives being sold two-pence a head ? Why, they 'd conclude, as we are taught, *' The price being low, the goods are naught," Jacob, the Patriarch of old, Purchas'd at no such price, Ave 're told. Seven tedious years were forc'd to pass, Which only brought a blear-eyed lass ; And bound for seven long years again Before another could obtain ; " And when to him they both were gone," Why, then he 'd twice the plague of one. T' asperse the girls I 'm very loth, But I think Hannah worth them both. His treatment to his wives were kind ; To all their failings rather blind ; But our coarse husband, full of terrors, Saw nothing; in lias wife but errors. Of 74 Of many virtues none could scan ; This is the random creature man ! The liquor drunk, the bargain made, The wife deliver'd, money paid ; The husband pleas' d that he could part From her who long had lost his heart ; Or, rather, none could she receive, Because he ne'er had one to give. Poor Hannah saw the idle tale To pass through Hinckley would not fail ; Nav, any town, from Thames to Soar, Woukl gladly cuff it o'er and o'er. It would, of her and child, be told, They, like a cow and calf, were sold. This Martin saw they would not stay, But would for Lcughbro' shape their way. Besides, repentance might come on, And then poor Martin's pint was gone. Celestial folks assemble strait, And enter into close debate, " Whether they can, by methods certain, " Assist poor Hannah and Will Martin." They soon determine on a plan To serve them every way they can. The night was dark the world in bed - All Hinckley in deep silence laid. The cock brake early forth, and crew, And sleepy Cinthia rose at two. She 75 She instant quitted her abode, To light our couple on the road. But here, alas, as one that mourns, She shew'd no part except her horns. Her face was hid, and vex'd, as 't were, Because she could not serve the pair ; For by the little light she shew'd Our couple could not find their road. Cinthia's design might only be To let the surly husband see The pattern of what horns to wear ; For he was making up a pair. The folks celestial still observe them, And find the moon too faint to serve them, Aurora issued from her bed, And grandly streak' d the heavens with red ; To Sol's groom call'd, he being in view, " To harness quick, and then put to ; " That Sol would not a moment stay, " But light our couple on the way : 11 For, as he 'd often seen them both, " Was well acquainted with their worth. " That she, Aurora, points their course " 'Till Phcrbus shines with brighter force." Our couple not a moment waste ; Young travellers set out in haste, But losing breath, and wean' soon, Ave apt to lag before 'tis noon. Phoebus, 76 Phoebus, to guide our couple, came, Determin'd to do just the same. He urg'd his coursers whipp'd them still And gallop' d up the Eastern hill ; When, finding he was far from earth, Then Iagg'd, as they did, to get breath. Our couple were not incommoded With chattels, and yet both were loaded. His right hand, empty, swang most kind '; One swing before, and one behind. Your pendulum the time can tell ; His hand could tell it just as well ; And though it might the right leg shun, Exactly with the left went on. The centre of a hedge-stake press On his left shoulder, with some stress ; His left hand pulling at the end on 't ; The other end a bundle pendant ; While in his face the features smil'd, And she trudefd after with the child. When two young folks together go, Fifteen or twenty miles, or so, And both good-natur'd seem to be, Much of each othci 1 they may see ; And if to love they re both inclin'd, They '11 fathom each the other's mind. Friendship and love they '11 soon impart, And creep into each other's heart. This 77 This prov'd our happy couple's case, Who ne'er before could bliss embrace j As in the sex he never knew How to select the bad from true ; So, when unsatisfied, the mind To fix it seldom is inclin'd ; Like running waters, as they fall, Salute each bank, but quit them all. But now he found in Hannah more Than all he look'd for long before : " She, of the fair sex, was the best ; " With her alone he 'd fix his rest ;" Nor wish'd to change in small degree ; Ke lov'd the child as well as she. For innocents, in every case, Clasp round the heart with close embrace ; Except that heart like marble stands, Then there 's no hold for little hands. Her state of bliss appear'd much more Because she \i recently been lower. She liv'd at ease, which brought surprize, A new world open'd to her eyes. Vox good she look'd, and look'd again. In her first husband but in vain. To all choice fruits he seem'd a foe ; The soil was bad, they could not grow. In Martin virtues found alone, Which corresoonded with her own. ho: 78 Though man and wife, they act at will, But find themselves the lovers still ; Nor ever yet appear'd to be Sick of each other's company. Then what need they abroad to roam When both were better pleas'd at home ? Each to the other's failings blind, They found all which they hop'd to find. Material errors they avoid ; The lesser they knew how to hide ; Should but a little fault appear, *Twas quite forgot for she was there ; Should one with blemish mark a deed, The other an excuse would plead. To hear his foot when he 'd been gone, Was harmony of sweetest tone ; It banish'd every gloomy sigh, And rais'd the joyous spirits high ; A welcome issued from her eyes, Which he alone knew how to prize ; And should she ever hold forth long, He never once said, " Hold your tongue ! n For why should he attempt to stint A tongue with so much music in 't ? Love can do all things with great ease, Possessing every power to please. For where the wish is well inclin'd, The hand will rarelv las behind. 79 Between them went no jarring sound ; A perfect harmoriv was found. Why, when so near to bliss alloy'd Could not the marriage knot be tied r THE FOURTH PART. The higher we climb on this hard ball, The more destructive if we fall. 1 n our fourth part I end the clue, But can't poetic justice do ; For married folk who act like these Justly expect to live at ease. No fiction in my verse I tell, But real facts I knew them well. A twelvemonth pass'd, or thereabout, And they from Loughbro' ne'er went out. Though both were" strange to every road, Happy as those who went abroad. For happiness, it is confess'd, Consists in what we love the best. We '11 now to Hinckley send the Muse, To see how surly husband does. Renentance 80 Repentance seiz'd him. When alone, He damn'd himself for what he 'd done. His rattle sold in evil hour, Because 'twas wholly in his power ; That power departed, he in vain, Cry'd for his rattle back again. This random temper verifies That what we have we all despise, And what we have not, after pant ; " 'Tis just the very thing we want." Now all her charms he saw, and more Charms which he could not see before. Himself examines all the streets ; Tells every passenger he meets, And his egregious folly states To churchwardens and magistrates. But all adhering to one rule, Join, with himself, to call hivnfool. It happen'd on a luckless day, When life's sweet stream had no allay, Wiliiam and Hannah careless sat, Amus'd with inoffensive chat, A sudden voice approach'd the room ; " The overseers of Hinckley come !" Suppose a catchpole seiz'd a beau, He could not be redue'd so low. No author, when his book 's run down i Nor miser, when he's lost a crown ; Xor 81 Nor you when Chancery suit miscarried ; Nor Betty when her sweet-heart married ; Nor tradesman when his banker broke ; Ever experienc'd such a shock. Two faces pale, but not with sorrow, Were his and her 's, but mark'd with horror. " Hannah", they said, " must with them come j " Her husband wanted her at home." The stile in which these words did flow Appear'd not to admit of no ; Nor in the least afforded rest To the rough tumults in the breast. William the art of speech knew well, In elocution could excell ; And in no period, you'd allow, Was it so needful as just now ; For who would not, to save a wife, Speak better than in all his life ; But new his words, through agitation, All underwent compleat stagnation. Instead of must'ring up a trope, They riotted within the throat ; And though he tried to drive them hence, They still continued in suspence ; Nay, that same power which used to aid them, Now fast within the gullet made them ; "Though sorely wanted, could not use them, For ail internals were confusion. G When 82 When wind and words proctir'd a vent, He boldly drew an instrument ; ' Conveyance fairly sign'd and 'seal'd, ! ' By which he lovely Hannah held. 1 And flow can this, pray, be undone, ' Deliver'd free before the siin ? ' A bargain that can never fail ; ' The mone} r paid upon the nail. 1 This is the title-deed which gives ' Me lovely Hannah while she lives ; ' He, by this writing, did resign i His Hannah, and by this she 's mine. ' A man may sell his own, 'tis true ; ' Nor can repentance sales undo. ' Were he to have 'her back once more, ' They 'd say he 'd made his wife a w ' And who black scandal would abide, ! Which is so easy to avoid ? ' Besides, there 's more to think upon, * In pregnancy she 's six months gone. ' What stupid husband then would groan i Under a burthen not his own ?." These powerful arguments, of course, V/ith justice weigh, but not With force ; For he with whom a power shall go Holds the best arguments we know ; And though sheer reasons flow in fast, He 's sure to win his cause at last. Nay, 83 Nay, should we argue e'er so long, The hand will always beat the tongue. They said, " he might the writings hold ; " They 'd shew the price a wife was sold ; " But that his title had a flaw j " The purchase was not good in law ; " For in that place she should not fix " Though she should prove with-child of six ! " Might keep the writing for her sake j " But, for the freehold, they would take." Thus though poor Will by far could speak best. His arguments were far the weakest. When conquer'd by the tongue or whip, There 's nothing left but to submit ; For William, and his purchas'd bride, Are doom'd for ever to divide. The lovers shock'd, with sighs and tears Pierce every heart but overseers. For hearts united just like these Can never separate with ease. The loss of her he thought was more Than all he ever held before. And should lie e'en to old age live, 'Twas more than all the world could cive o He sorely wept, to be remov'd From her he most sincerely lov'd ; And while the fair-one could be view'd His eye attentively pursued ; G 9. And 84 And glanc'd the way, though she's not there, As well as able through a tear. Poor Hannah wept, being forc'd from one She'd firmly fix'd her heart upon. Nor did that one the least degrade The worthy present which she made. Now must submit to many an oath From one who 's isrn'rant of her 'worth. For as in him, if we look round, Not one good quality was found ; So he no good in her could spy When view'd by his corrupted eye. The winning officers were gay, And in small triumph led the way ; She follow'd, but in anguish cried, " O that the knot could be untied !** Nov. 21, 1793 TH 85 THE TOBACCONIST. When industry with judgment joins, And chaste frugality combines. Dame Fortune is not in the case, The man is sure to thrive apace. He '11 quickly feather well his nest, Deposit of his future rest. But should a parson come about, And slily pluck the feathers out, The ruin'tl family may roam, And starve for ages yet to come. We '11 first unfold the art of gaining, Then that develop of retaining. W hoe'er in trade shall money find, Acquires a pleasure to his mind ; More joy by far he'll have in heaping, Than either spending or in keeping. The saving man never looks duller Because his hag 's a little fuller j Yet were it always in one state It could not keep the mind elate ; But, when it 's lighter by a crown, It certainly will let him down. That pleasure which is most endearing, The florists say, consists in rearing. G 3 But 86 But Great Moguls would cause no flame. Should they continue just the same. What gardener refrains from sighing, His Emperor of Morocco dying ? What mother can a smile refrain, When Tommy shall his feet attain ; But when young master 's walk'd awhile, It never more excites a smile. Man 's a free agent, we think still, Who must be guided by his will. Jf yon to drive him have begun, Just like a pig lie '11 backwards run. Should he by chance but step aside, A silken cord may prove a guide. This rectifies the milder breast, And justice comes to drive the rest. Compulsion us'd in any case Sits ill upon the human race. A Christian church for ever itches After accumulating riches. And pray what Church could ever rest, Except with wealth compjeatly bless'd ? Her loving sons, of godly mould, Are vastly fond of power and gold ; lor veil they know, if gold they find, Delieions power won't la behind. They 're watchful early, watchful late, To lav their thumb on vour estate. Thev 87 They far behind leave in the lurch The founders of the Christian church. The twelve Apostles seem as naught ; For all their wealth was scarce a groat. Among a dozen men divine Did not a single mitre shine. They barely could afford to eat, And in their journeys us'd their feet : But, though their feet were full in use, Could not procure a pair of shoes. If but one shirt to each betide, Must lie in bed till that was dried ; While their'successors smiling pray, " And fare most sumptuous ev'ry day ;" Appear in mitre, robe, and rocket, And show a swelling in the pocket. Adorn'd with purple and fine linen, Are oft the gilded chariot seen in ; Wear shoes as if they meant to tread, Though scarce more needful than in bed : For, being drawn along the street, Have little need for shoes or feet. What though the twelve were poor indeed, Their sons have taught the Church to feed. But modern gratitude appears To apostolic characters, For forming a religion that on The grave Divine can soon grow fat on, G h For 88 For men who could not spare a vest Are now in solid silver dress'd ; And further is display' d each saint In copper plate and costly paint. For self-denial Parsons hallow them ; But where 's the man attempts to follow them ? Thus industry. A thriving chest The cravings of a hungry priest. These three points settled, we shan't fail To tell you " thereby hangs a tale," Which we '11 apply to what's before, And therefore moralize no more. While I the faithful tale rehearse, A Grocer shall adorn my verse. Christopher Stephens now we '11 view, The hero of a tale that 's true ; Who sold tobacco ; gain'd renown ; W r as resident in Reading town. From small beginnings could create, In length of time, a good estate. Shew'd in what point the road might lie, Which other folks might walk and buy. He daily kept a steady line ; Was never found asleep at nine. I J e some commercial maxims chose ; Could well repeat them though in prose : " 'Tis not from trade the man is made ; ic No, 'tis the man that makes the trade. Small 89 " Small profits if you once combine, " Compose a mass that soon will shine. " The goods well bought are then half sold ; " Their profits may be doubly told. " The man who pays upon the nail " Commands the market and the sale. " Exonerate the debts you owe, " Then what you're worth you'll quickly know, " Get money fast, and spend it slow, " Your fortune rapidly will grow. " A growing fortune will impart " A growing pleasure to the heart." No wonder, by these rules surrounded, Gold often on his counter sounded ; Would lovely to the eye appear, And sound delightful in the ear. And should three pounds the till contain, He sent back two to buy again. His mode of living we '11 survey ; Milk-porridge usher'd in the day. 'Twas wholesome to the body kind ; 'Twas cheap which satisfy'd the mind. And as he eat his breakfast soon, Like his fore-fathers din'd at noon. If he weigh'd plums, it was for gain ; He chose to eat his pudding plain, Because he this conclusion drew " The price of one would furnish two." \t 90 At ev'ning, when at supper sat, Regal'd upon a frugal treat, Fragments of dinner cheese and beer, With true content brought up the rear. Of all his food he wasted none, But scrap'd his crumbs as he went on. The supper done, he did not fail T' enjoy another full regale ; A cup of home-brew'd always us'd, And o'er his pipe and profits mus'd. Kot that he ever seem'd unwilling, When interest serv'd, to spend a shilling. But this was rather with a view That he might probably gain two. On Sunday he cnlarg'd his treat, *Twas broth and pudding, roots and meat. Nor was his entertainment spoil'd, For he eat roast as well as boil'd. Thus life pass'd on, he watchM, he slept, And regular one tenor keot. ] ' e- strove to get ; he made no waste ; En'joy'd a station to his taste ; From which he drew that happiness Which few experience, many guess. His fortune swell' d on either hand ; His hobby-horse was buying land ; ould in that jockysbip excel, Furallallcw he rode him well. Old 91 Old Time observ'd him full three score, And bad-dip? rap hard at his door, And say, " his work was nearly done, f His game was up, his slake was won." THE SECOND PART. If you heap wealth upon your back, Be watchful of a thing in black j For If that thing once gets command, Tis gone, as 'twere by slight of hand. W e 're travellers upon the road, Yet act as if 'twas our abode. This we find blam'd by our divines, But here, I think, our conduct shines ; For, if neglected our affairs, We hurt ourselves, and hurt our heirs. The farmer, when he sows his wheat, Is not quite sure he '11 live to eat. Then if into neglect he '11 give, Can the next generation live ? Kind Heaven will this care preserve, Or we should make the future starve. \nd 92 And if such evils come apace, They'll quickly thin the human race. Our hero now his day had run ; 'Twas drawing to'ards the setting sun ; And yet through life no issue made To heir his fortune and his trade. " One nephew had, he 'd often say, " Residing in America. " This youth he 'd back to Reading call, " And constitute him heir of all." 'Tis done the favour' d youth drew nigh, To act beneath his uncle's eye. Schemes are more apt to bring vexation, Than they to answer expectation. The youth elate, his fortune made, And master of a prosperous trade, His morning rose supremely bright ; He never thought it could be night ; Liv'd gaily ; spent his money quick ; And seem'd to gallop to Old Nick ; Promis'd the fortune to o'er-whelm : His uncle ecukl not guide the helm. The parish priest an opening spies ; For parish priests have keenish eyes. He ponder' d deeply in his mind Whether he could a profit find ? But he knew well that men grown old Were rather stubborn stuff to mould ; Yet, 93 Yet, not o'er-stock'd with self-denial, Saw no great loss in making trial ; To Mr. Stephens mov'd his hat, And enter'd into common chat ; Then by-and-by a visit made ; The priest was master of his trade. The way once found, he fairly seated, His visit frequently repeated. The ale was good, tobacco mild, The story clever, they both smil'd. Thus the sly priest perform' d his part, And crept into Kit Stephens' heart. The man who has a point to gain Attacks in a religious strain. That antient cloak is hack'd about, From age to age, yet not worn out. " Sir," says the priest, with easy air, " Kind Providence has bless'd your care. " To your affairs you paid regard, " And thousands are your just reward. " He who succeeds in honest ways " Is worthy of the highest praise ; " But when by care he 's riches won, " He 's only half his duty done. " Simply to gain is an abuse, " Unless applied to proper use ; " For riches, it is understood, " Are granted for promoting good. But 94 * But 'tis observ'd by all the towrt * Your fair-got fortune 's melting downi. 1 Your nephew will the whole undo, ' And ruin soul and body too. ' Fair prudence might, ere 'tis too late^ ' Prevent the waste of your estate ; ' To distant times record your name, ' And save a falling youth from shame^ ' Your whole estate deposit free c Into the lap of Charity. 1 This, like your bread on waters cast, ' Returns when many days are past ; ' And the best charity we know 1 Is to support the church below : ' For there the man is taught to rise 1 And place his hopes beyond the skies. ' The pulpit plants that heavenly tree, ' Which springs up to eternity. ' What blessings then on them await ' Who aid the Church in this fall'n state !" Stephens was silent as a door ; His eyes fix'd on the parlour floor ; His elbow on the table rest ; One hand below the cheek-bone press'd 5 The other hand, with steady gripe, Within his mouth retain'd the pipe. He loos' d it with a closing puff; His face looked sorrowful enough ; For 95 For can a human face look gay, His lands just wing'd to fly away ? Lands which had been his dear delight Two different ways were taking flight. " Your sentiments I much admire, 1 They 're full of heav'nly desire ; ' Those sentiments are, to a hair, 1 True pulpit doctrine, worn thread-bare. ' To heaven our thoughts the parson brings, ' But sets his own on earthly things. " If to the church we give our lands, ' You say for charity it stands ; * But can you, Sir, one instance name ' Of any priest, when money came, ' Becoming better preaching more 1 Than ever he had done before ? ' But I could some before you lay ' Where priests are idle people stray. ' What minister his flock will heed ' When he in luxury can feed ? ' If they don't preach, nor better live, ' Can it be charity to give ? " Land, too, applied to sacred use, ' Becomes a general abuse. ' No. staple owner fields grow poor $ Their produce is but half the store. c These may be fairly calFd dead lands, 1 Which ne'er return to private hands. When " When a long race of devotees " Have lo ig'd in holy hands their fees j " Religion then, at their command, " Wholly consists in Holy land ; " And property accumulating, " Acquires a power there 's no combating. " Man would be taught not to fear God, " But only fear the Church 's rod ; " 'Till an Eighth Henry rise once more, '* And rob the Church as heretofore. " Though Hal, 'tis said, went to the devif, " Much good we find came out of evil. " Besides, you know, Sir, I presume, " That charity begins at home. " A man 's relations, when he 's dead, " Have just the right that he once had. " Should I give you what I get rent of, " Then one sin more I have t' repent of. " My nephew, I allow, is wild, " By youthful follies nearly spoil' d ; " But, should I cut him off by will, " 'Twould tend to make him wilder still " Besides, his money must run scant ; " The more he spends, the more he '11 want. " But not more pleasure can he find, " In spending what I leave behind, " Than has already been my lot " In getting fairly what I've got. For 97 " For pipe and beer I thought you came, " Nor were you grudg'd the humble claim ; . " But when a deep-laid scheme is brewing, " To bring a family to ruin, " Prudence should drag that scheme to light, , '. " And firmness overturn it quite. " I 'm not the man to act your farce on^ > . " And so your humble servant, Parson." Unhappy is that city's lot When she between two fires has got. I The smoaky tempest hides the land ; Distruction lies on either hand : This was Kit Stephens' case, in fact ; Prudence was needful for each act. The nephew storms, and makes a gap ; The priest approaches him by sap ; But he, by firmness, could oblige One enemy to raise the siege. Not many days past in rotation Before this curious conversation The nephew fully understood : It mov'd his ire, it chilPd his blood. More hard lie could not be beset, If he a surly ghost had met. He sought his uncle full of fears, Dissolved in penitential tears. Pure gratitude had fill'd his breast ; " Without a pardon could not rest : H " Told 98 n Told him his wish should be his choice, " He never more would follow vice.'* Drawn by the silken cords of love, From virtue *s paths he did not rove ; But shunn'd the selfish priest with dread, Who tried to feed upon his bread. Accus'd the brother hood of blame ; Thought ev'ry priest would do the same : And when a man in black he met, Look'd sour, and never touch'd his hat. Feb. 36, 17*4. THE MILKMAN. A husband and wife, when they 're both of one mind, We deem them most happy read on, and you '11 find. I n all concerns a man shall share He 'd better act upon the square ; For then he '11 most advantage find j It shews an open, upright mind. He '11 rise to riches, fame, and worth ; Be courted though he boasts no birth ; While the sly rogue in want may roam, Who robs another of his own. For 99 For he who rakes in filth for gain Will at no certain point refrain. His ill-got property shall end ; The world detest him as a fiend. What though he 's lovely fruit to shew, Which he hangs out to tempt the view, And in the road a trap shall lay To catch th' unwary in his way ; Perhaps his superficial gin By chance may let the owner in. While selfish men shall money draw From the uncertainty of law ; While learned counsel truth despise, Treat every subject with disguise, And when he wins rejoices long, Whether the cause be right or wrong ; While the pursuit of law is worse Than if a man puts up with loss j While he, who 's right, is often found To win, yet lose a hundred pound ; Something 's amiss, most plain the fact is, Either in law, or else the practice. A barber led a single life, 'Till tir'd, and then he took a wife ; " But chose to swerve from gen'ral rules, " And thought the bulk of men were fools, " Who labour hard with hand and head *' That idle wives may be well fed. H 2 That 100 " That man appears a silly elf " Who gives what he can eat himself. " 'Twas quite the thing, he thought, through life " To be supported by a wife. " For, as to wives, who would not fly them, '* Except he gains some profit by them ? " A gentleman if he was made ; " Aye, that must be the nicest trade. " But here again a man may fall, " Except he 's tools to work withal. " Beauty's the finest tool on earth ; " His wife claim'd this in right of birth." Thus was the barber 's fortune made ; He 'd Avhat he wanted the best trade. The milkman every morning came, And with his ware supplied the dame; " For should he ever miss a day " She'd surely be depriv'd of tea." And where 's the maid or matron who Would so divine a treat forego ? The time of coming was well known ; He found her usually alone. He made good measure stopp'd a minute " Her tongue had something pleasing in it." His pail, he on the table set it, Apt, for five minutes, to forget it. He press' d her hand he glanc'd awhile And she return'd it with a smile. Her 101 Her hand was soft with love he burn'd; He thought he felt the squeeze retum'd ; But while, in rapture, view'd her face, Was sure he saw the smiles increase. Thus when on amorous billows tost, No wonder then the man is lost. Sometimes he thought, but only guess'd, A tumult rose within her breast. His eye could not distinguish well, But thought his hand could better tell ; Yet he was fearful he 'd no warrant, To send it on that dangerous errand. Prudence was absent, Love close press'd ; He clasp'd her round the slender waist, And, like two harriers, in a tether, Mov'd gently to'ards the wall together ; When she a dreadful yell begun, " O help, o help, or I 'm undone. The husband, and a friend in store, Burst from behind the cellar door, Where through a chink, convenient made, They knew whate'er was done or said. Cursing and blasting he began, Like any carrier, or his man. What were the feelings of our lover Is not quite easy to discover. All his internal powers were chang'd ; His verv svstem was derang'd. H 3 He 102 He could not be astonish' d nt6fe If thunderbolt had burst the door ; Nor could he tell, we freely own, If he was wood, or flesh, or stone. The husband, terrible to see, ' Turn'd out the wife, and turn'd the key ; Seiz'd a large poker in great haste ; The trembling milkman stood aghast. The friend, less wrathful, stopp'd his arms ; Said " it was best to come to terms." But can a naked person treat With an opponent arm'd compleat ? Tell me, bright Venus, from above, Are these the melting joys of Love ? A strict enquiry now was made, What sum, in cash, the milkman had. But when they 'd search'd his pockets round, His capital was scarce a pound. The culprit must, for this was kept. Make it two guineas ere he slept. This was a favourable doom, For sleep was fled three nights to come. Besides this sum, the husband swore, " By G I'll have ten guineas more!" Then, from a shabby pocket-book, A dreadful stamp, price sixpence, took, Which, like a catch-pole, took its stand, The moment wanted was at hand ; And 103 And wrote upon it as he sat, " Ten guineas, two months after da^e." The captive now could not resist, But sign'd it with a trembling fist. Thus Frisseur his new trade began ; Was what he wish'd the gentleman : And found a charming specimen How future profits would flow in ; Thought he 'd his pinching irons sell, For he could pinch without them well. Far other thoughts the milkman 'seize, But not a thought was found to please. " What had he left to live upon ? " The profits of his pail were gone. " If Love must play such pranks as these, '* Within his bosom it shall freeze." The dose prov'd, from the barber's dove, A pill which carried off his Love. H 4 THE 104 ' THE SECOND PART. 'Twas for decisions such as thi I lost my property and bliss. Could I have let both parties win, Then safe most perfectly I 'd been. ' 1 is easier, in the money way, To promise, than it is to pay. He, too, who 's been in pain awhile, Or finds himself in durance vile, To gain relief from cruel ill, Will sign or promise what you will. This was exact our hero 's case ; Or milkman rather, if you please ; From whom all liberty was taken, Except the art of promise-making. Full many a night he slept in bed, And yet the money was unpaid ; For, when fair freedom came in sight, He view'd things in a difPrent light. " He ought, he said, to be reliev'd " From paying, when he ne'er receiv'd." But to the barber, gent. I mean, The matter as before was seen. V- For if at first it was a debt, ** The very same it must be yet. And 105 " And a just debt it will be thought, " Or else, how came I by this note?" Patience will tire, when oflfer'd wrong ; Nor should a gentleman wait long. " He would not these delays support ;'* But sued the milkman in the court. Now, in the flimzy stile of state, And solemn form, the court is sat. The lawyers powder'd, trimm'd, and fee'd, Muster up all their powers to plead; For fifty minutes words dispense, When five would compass all the sense ; Will put the enemy to rout, But trying, go a mile about ; To win the bench is their chief aim, For then they 're sure to win the game. The bench, nail'd by long-winded sinners, Fear only lest they lose their dinners. By con and pro, and pro and con, Our cause but heavily goes on. But who can wonder matters stay, When there 's a lawyer in the way ? The fluent pleadings being o'er, And they the cause left as before ; For howsoever words were priz'd, Fair truth was rather more disguis'd. The court remark' d " 'Tis now our turn. t ff At all false colouring we spurn ; Ttt 106 To strip the veil must be our care, And try to see things as they are. No prejudice must we pursue, But give to every man his due. * c If to the note it shall appear The plaintiff has a title clear, We '11 never wrong him of a doit ; The money must go with the right ; But should the bold demand be found To rest upon no solid ground, We '11 quash the action without fear, And the defendant fully clear. " If this defendant form'd a plan To trespass on another man ; The fence of virtue trampled down, And pluck'd the fruit that 's not his own : Then our decision we declare, Value received the note must bear. For every shilling should lie on, A suit to stifle of crim. con. And in that case we plainly see The culprit will a gainer be ; But if collusion shall appear Between an artful husband here, And a deceiptful wife, to fleece The man who ne'er design'd amiss, To bait a trap with female smiles To catch the innocent in wiles ; " Dismission 107 * Dismission we shall ratify, 1 And the security destroy. " Though freedom taken with the bride ' In honou? can't be justified ;