Part 40

Och, tell me truth now, and did you ne'er hear Of a pair of big traitors, call'd Jaffier and Pierre, Who thought that their country was shockingly served? Who met in the dark, and the night, and the fogs,-- Who "howl'd at the moon" and call'd themselves "dogs," Till Jaffier to Pierre pledged his honour and life, And into the bargain his iligant wife,-- By which very means was ould Venice preserved.

The ringleaders held a snug club in the town, The object of which was to knock the Doge down, Because from his duty they thought he had swerved. They met every evening, and more was their fault, At the house of a gentleman, Mr. Renault, Who--och, the spalpeen!--when they all went away, Stay'd at home, and made love to the sweet Mrs. J.,-- By which, in the end, was ould Venice preserved.

When Jaffier came back, his most delicate belle-- Belvidera they call'd her--determined to tell How she by old Renault that night had been served. This blew up a breeze, and made Jaffier repent Of the plots he had laid: to the Senate he went. He got safe home by twelve: his wife bade him not fail; And by half-after-one he was snug in the gaol,-- By which, as we'll see, was ould Venice preserved.

The Doge and the Court, when J.'s story they'd heard, Thought it good for the country to forfeit their word, And break the conditions they should have observed. So they sent the police out to clear every street, And seize whomsoever by chance they might meet; And before the bright sun was aloft in the sky, Twenty-two of the party were sentenced to die,-- And that was the way was ould Venice preserved.

Mr. Jaffier, who 'peach'd, was let off at the time; But that wouldn't do, he committed a crime, Which punishment more than his others deserved; So when Pierre was condemn'd, to the scaffold he went, Pierre whisper'd and nodded, and J. said "Content." They mounted together, till kind Mr. J., Having stabb'd Mr. P., served himself the same way,-- And so was their honour in Venice preserved.

But och! what a scene, when the beautiful Bell, At her father's, found out how her dear husband fell! The sight would the stoutest of hearts have unnerved. She did nothing but tumble, and squabble, and rave, And try to scratch J., with her nails from the grave. This lasted three months, when, cured of her pain, She chuck'd off her weeds, and got married again,-- By which very means was this _Venus_ preserved.

DAYLIGHT DINNERS.[73]

When Summer's smiles rejoice the plains, And deck the vale with flowers; And blushing nymphs, and gentle swains, With love beguile the hours; Oh! then conceive the ills that mock The well-dress'd London sinner, Invited just at seven o'clock To join a "daylight dinner."

The sun, no trees the eye to shade, Glares full into the windows, And scorches widow, wife, and maid Just as it does the Hindoos; One's shoes look brown, one's black looks grey, One's legs if thin, look thinner; There's nothing equals, in its way, A London daylight dinner.

The cloth seems blue, the plate's like lead, The faded carpet dirty, Grey hairs peep out from each dark head, And twenty looks like thirty. You sit beside an heiress gay, And do your best to win her, But oh!--what can one do or say, If 'tis a daylight dinner?

A lovely dame just forty-one, At night a charming creature, My praise unqualified had won, In figure, form, and feature, That _she_ was born, without a doubt, Before the days of Jenner, By sitting next her, I found out, Once at a daylight dinner.

Freckles, and moles, and holes, and spots, The envious sun discloses, And little bumps, and little dots, On chins, and cheeks, and noses. Last Monday, Kate, when next me placed (A most determined grinner), Betray'd four teeth of mineral paste, Eating a daylight dinner.

* * * * *

CLUBS.

_Tune_--"Bow, wow, wow."

If any man loves comfort and has little cash to buy it, he Should get into a _crowded_ club--a most _select_ society; While solitude and mutton-cutlets serve _infelix uxor_, he May have his club (like Hercules) and revel there in luxury. Bow, wow, wow, etc.

Yes, _Clubs_ knock taverns on the head! e'en _Hatchetts_ can't demolish them; _Joy grieves_ to see their magnitude, and _Long_ longs to abolish them. The _Inns_ are _out_! hotels for single men scarce keep alive on it, While none but houses that are in the _Family way_ thrive on it! Bow, wow, wow, etc.

There's first the Athenæum club, so wise, there's not a man of it That has not sense enough for six, (in fact, that is the plan of it:) The very waiters answer you with eloquence Socratical, And always place the knives and forks in order mathematical. Bow, wow, wow, etc.

Then opposite the _mental_ club you'll find the _regi_mental one, A meeting made of men of war, and yet a very gentle one; If _uniform_ good living please your palate, here's excess of it, Especially at private dinners, when they _make a mess of it_! Bow, wow, wow, etc.

E'en Isis has a house in Town! and Cam abandons _her_ city! The _Master_ now hangs out at the United University; In Common Room she gave a route! (a novel freak to hit upon) Where Masters gave the Mistresses of Arts no chairs to sit upon! Bow, wow, wow, etc.

The Union Club is quite superb--it's best apartment daily is The lounge of lawyers, doctors, merchants, beaux _cum multis aliis_: At half-past six, the _joint concern_, for eighteenpence, is given you-- Half-pints of port are sent in _ketchup bottles_ to enliven you! Bow, wow, wow, etc.

The travellers are in Pall Mall, and smoke cigars so cosily, And dream they climb the highest Alps, or rove the plains of Moselai; The world for them has nothing new, they have explor'd all parts of it, And now they are club-footed! and they sit and look at charts of it. Bow, wow, wow, etc.

The Orientals homeward bound, now seek their clubs much sallower, And while they eat green fat, they find their own fat growing yellower: Their soup is made _more savoury_, till bile to shadows dwindles 'em, And Messrs. _Savory_ and _Moore_ with seidlitz draughts rekindles 'em. Bow, wow, wow, etc.

Then there are clubs where persons Parliamentary preponderate, And clubs for men _upon the turf_--(I wonder they aren't _under it_)-- Clubs where the _winning_ ways of _sharper_ folks pervert the _use_ of clubs, Where _knaves_ will make subscribers cry, "Egad, this is the _deuce_ of clubs." Bow, wow, wow, etc.

For country Squires the only club in London now is Boodles, sirs, The Crockford club for playful men, the Alfred club for noodles, sirs, These are the stages which all men propose to play their parts upon, For _clubs_ are what the Londoners have clearly set their _hearts_ upon. Bow, wow, wow, etc.

VISITINGS.

N.B.--A lady having presented the Author, on a visit, with her _thumb_ to shake _hands_ with, the Muse opened her mouth and spake as follows:--

Some women at parting scarce give you So much as a simple good-bye, And from others as long as you live, you Will never be bless'd with a sigh; Some will press you so warmly, you'd linger Beside them for ever, and some Will give you an icy forefinger, But Fanny presents you a thumb.

Some will give you a look of indifference, Others will give you a smile; While some of the colder and stiffer ones, Bow in their own chilly style. There are some who look merry at parting, And some who look wofully glum; Some give you a blessing at starting, But Fanny just gives you a thumb.

There are some who will go to the door with you, Some ring for the man or the maid; Some who do less, and some more, with you, And a few would be glad if you stay'd. A good many wish you'd be slack again, Their way on a visit to come; Two or three give you leave to go back again, But Fanny gives only her thumb.

With a number, ten minutes are longer Than you find yourself welcome to stay; While some, whose affections are stronger, Would like to detain you all day. Some offer you sherry and biscuit, Others give not a drop nor a crumb; Some a sandwich, from sirloin or brisket, But Fanny gives simply her thumb.

Some look with a sort of a squint to you, Some whisper they've visits to make; Some glance at their watches--a hint to you, Which, if you are wise, you will take. Some faintly invite you to dinner, (So faint, you may see it's all hum, Unless you're a silly beginner,) But Fanny presents you a thumb.

Some chatter--thirteen to the dozen-- Some don't speak a word all the time; Some open the albums they've chosen, And beg you to scribble in rhyme; Some bellow so loud, they admonish Your ear to take care of its drum; Some give you an ogle quite _tonish_, But Fanny gives nought, save her thumb.

Some wonder how long you've been absent, Despair of your coming again; While some have a coach or a cab sent, To take you away if it rain. Some shut up their windows in summer, Some won't stir the fire, though you're numb; Some give you hot punch in a rummer, But Fanny gives only her thumb.

Some talk about scandal, or lovers, Some talk about Byron or Scott; Some offer you eggs laid by plovers, Some offer the luck of the pot; A great many offer you nothing, They sit, like automata, dumb, The silly ones give you a loathing, But Fanny gives merely her thumb.

Some bore you with six-year-old gabies, In the shape of a master or miss; Others hold up their slobbering babies, Which you must be a brute not to kiss: Some tell you their household disasters, While others their instruments strum; Some give you receipts for corn plasters, But Fanny presents you her thumb.

Some talk of the play they've been last at, And some of the steam-driven coach; While those who are prudes look aghast at Each piece of new scandal you broach: Some talk of converting the Hindoos, To relish, like Christians, their rum; Some give you a view from their windows, But Fanny gives only her thumb.

Some ask what you think of the tussel, man, Between the all-lies and the Porte; And Cod-rington's thrashing the muscle-man (Puns being such people's forte). The men speak of change in the Cabinet; The women--how can they sit mum? Give their thoughts upon laces and tabinet, But Fanny gives merely her thumb.

Some speak of the Marquis of Lansdowne, Who, to prove the old proverb, has set About thief-catching--laying wise plans down In the _Hue and Cry_ weekly gazette. Some think that the Whigs are but noodles (But such are, of course, the mere scum); Some give you long tales of their poodles, But Fanny presents you her thumb.

Good luck to them all!--where I visit, I meet with warm hearts and warm hands; But that's not a common thing, is it? For I neither have houses nor lands: Not a look but the soul has a part in it, (How different the looks are of some!) Oh! give me a hand with a heart in it, And the devil take finger and thumb.

TO MR. ----, WHO PUTS OVER HIS DOOR "PEN AND QUILL MANUFACTURER."

You put above your door, and in your bills, You're manufacturer of _pens_ and _quills_; And for the first you well may feel a pride, Your _pens_ are better far than most I've tried; But for the _quills_ your words are somewhat loose-- Who _manufactures quills_ must be a Goose.

EPIGRAM.

It seems as if nature had curiously plann'd, That men's names with their trades should agree; There's Twining the Tea-man, who lives in the Strand, Would be _whining_ if robb'd of his T.

ON THE LATIN GERUNDS.

When Dido's spouse to Dido would not come, She mourn'd in silence, and was DI, DO, DUMB!

THE SPLENDID ANNUAL;[74]

OR, FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES OF A LORD MAYOR.

Literature, even in this literary age, is not the ordinary pursuit of the citizens of London, although every merchant is necessarily a man of letters, and underwriters are as common as cucumbers. Notwithstanding, however, my being a citizen, I am tempted to disclose the miseries and misfortunes of my life in these pages, because, having heard the "Anniversary" called a splendid annual, I hope for sympathy from its readers, seeing that I have been a "splendid annual" myself.

My name is Scropps--I _am_ an Alderman--I _was_ Sheriff--I _have been_ Lord Mayor--and the three great eras of my existence were the year of my shrievalty, the year of my mayoralty, and the year after it. Until I had passed through this ordeal I had no conception of the extremes of happiness and wretchedness to which a human being may be carried, nor ever believed that society presented to its members an eminence so exalted as that which I once touched, or imagined a fall so great as that which I experienced.

I came originally from that place to which persons of bad character are sent--I mean Coventry, where my father for many years contributed his share to the success of parliamentary candidates, the happiness of new married couples, and even the gratification of ambitious courtiers, by taking part in the manufacture of ribands for election cockades, wedding favours, and cordons of chivalry; but trade failed, and, like his betters, he became bankrupt, but, unlike his betters, without any consequent advantage to himself; and I, at the age of fifteen, was thrown upon the world with nothing but a strong constitution, a moderate education, and fifteen shillings and elevenpence three farthings in my pocket.

With these qualifications I started from my native town on a pedestrian excursion to London; and, although I fell into none of those romantic adventures of which I had read at school, I met with more kindness than the world generally gets credit for, and on the fourth day after my departure, having slept soundly, if not magnificently, every night, and eaten with an appetite which my mode of travelling was admirably calculated to stimulate, reached the great metropolis, having preserved of my patrimony no less a sum than nine shillings and sevenpence.

The bells of one of the churches in the city were ringing merrily as I descended the heights of Islington; and were it not that my patronymic Scropps never could, under the most improved system of campanology, be jingled into anything harmonious, I have no doubt I, like my great predecessor Whittington, might have heard in that peal a prediction of my future exaltation; certain it is I did not; and, wearied with my journey, I took up my lodging for the night at a very humble house near Smithfield, to which I had been kindly recommended by the driver of a return post-chaise, of whose liberal offer of the moiety of his bar to town, I had availed myself at Barnet.

As it is not my intention to deduce a moral from my progress in the world at this period of my life, I need not here dilate upon the good policy of honesty, or the advantages of temperance and perseverance, by which I worked my way upwards, until, after meriting the confidence of an excellent master, I found myself enjoying it fully. To his business I succeeded at his death, having several years before, with his sanction, married a young and deserving woman, about my own age, of whose prudence and skill in household matters I had long had a daily experience. In the subordinate character of his sole domestic servant, in which she figured when I first knew her, she had but few opportunities of displaying her intellectual qualities, but when she rose in the world, and felt the cheering influence of prosperity, her mind, like a balloon soaring into regions where the bright sun beams on it, expanded, and she became, as she remains, the kind unsophisticated partner of my sorrows and my pleasures, the friend of my heart, and the guiding-star of my destinies.

To be brief, Providence blessed my efforts and increased my means; I became a wholesale dealer in everything, from barrels of gunpowder down to pickled herrings; in the civic acceptation of the word I was a merchant, amongst the vulgar I am called a drysalter. I accumulated wealth; with my fortune my family also grew, and one male Scropps, and four female ditto, grace my board at least once in every week; for I hold it an article of faith to have a sirloin of roasted beef upon my table on Sundays, and all my children round me to partake of it: this may be prejudice--no matter--so long as he could afford it, my poor father did so before me; I plead that precedent, and am not ashamed of the custom.

Passing over the minor gradations of my life, the removal from one residence to another, the enlargement of this warehouse, the rebuilding of that, the anxiety of a canvass for common councilman, activity in the company of which I am liveryman, inquests, and vestries, and ward meetings, and all the other pleasing toils to which an active citizen is subject, let us come at once to the first marked epoch of my life--the year of my Shrievalty. The announcement of my nomination and election filled Mrs. S. with delight; and when I took my children to Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, to look at the gay chariot brushing up for me, I confess I felt proud and happy to be able to show my progeny the arms of London, those of the Spectacle-makers' Company, and those of the Scroppses (recently found at a trivial expense) all figuring upon the same panels. They looked magnificent upon the pea-green ground, and the wheels, "white picked-out crimson," looked so chaste, and the hammercloth, and the fringe, and the festoons, and the Scropps' crests all looked so rich, and the silk linings and white tassels, and the squabs and the yellow cushions and the crimson carpet looked so comfortable, that, as I stood contemplating the equipage, I said to myself, "What have I done to deserve _this_? O that my poor father were alive to see his boy Jack going to Westminster, to chop sticks and count hobnails, in a carriage like this!" My children were like mad things; and in the afternoon, when I put on my first new brown court suit (lined, like my chariot, with white silk), and fitted up with cut steel buttons, just to try the effect, it all appeared like a dream; the sword, which I tried on, every night for half an hour after I went up to bed, to practise walking with it, was very inconvenient at first; but use is second nature; and so by rehearsing and rehearsing I made myself perfect before that auspicious day, when Sheriffs flourish and geese prevail--namely, the twenty-ninth of September.

The twelve months which followed were very delightful, for, independently of the _positive_ honour and _éclat_ they produced, I had the Mayoralty in _prospectu_ (having attained my aldermanic gown by an immense majority the preceding year), and as I used during the sessions to sit in my box at the Old Bailey, with my bag at my back and my bouquet on my book, my thoughts were wholly devoted to one object of contemplation; culprits stood trembling to hear the verdict of a jury, and I regarded them not; convicts knelt to receive the fatal fiat of the Recorder, and I heeded not their sufferings, as I watched the Lord Mayor seated in the centre of the bench, with the sword of justice stuck up in a goblet over his head--there, thought I, if I live two years, shall _I_ sit--however, even as it was, it was very agreeable. When executions, the chief drawbacks to my delight, happened, I found, after a little seasoning, I took the thing coolly, and enjoyed my toast and tea after the patients were turned off, just as if nothing had happened; for, in _my_ time, we hanged at eight and breakfasted at a quarter after, so that without much hurry we were able to finish our muffins just in time for the cutting down at nine. I had to go to the House of Commons with a petition, and to Court with an address--trying situation for one of the Scroppses--however, the want of state in Parliament, and the very little attention paid to us by the members, put me quite at my ease at Westminster; while the gracious urbanity of our accomplished monarch[75] on his throne made me equally comfortable at St. James's. Still I was but a secondary person, or rather only one of two secondary persons--the chief of bailiffs and principal Jack Ketch; there _was_ a step to gain--and, as I often mentioned to Mrs. Scropps, I was sure my heart would never be still until I had reached the pinnacle.

Behold at length the time arrived! Guildhall crowded to excess--the hustings thronged--the aldermen retire--they return--their choice is announced to the people--it has fallen upon John Ebenezer Scropps, Esq. Alderman and spectacle-maker--a sudden shout is heard--"Scropps for ever!" resounds--the whole assembly seems to vanish from my sight--I come forward--am invested with the chain--I bow--make a speech--tumble over the train of the Recorder, and tread upon the tenderest toe of Mr. Deputy Pod--leave the hall in ecstasy, and drive home to Mrs. Scropps in a state of mind bordering upon insanity.

The days wore on, each one seemed as long as a week, until at length the 8th of November arrived, and then did it seem certain that I should be Lord Mayor--I was sworn in--the civic insignia were delivered to me--I returned them to the proper officers--my chaplain was near me--the esquires of my household were behind me--the thing was done--never shall I forget the tingling sensation I felt in my ear when I was first called "My Lord"--I even doubted if it were addressed to me, and hesitated to answer--but it _was_ so--the reign of splendour had begun, and after going through the accustomed ceremonies, I got home and retired to bed early, in order to be fresh for the fatigues of the ensuing day.