Or sent the goodly company on high,

Like bladders, blown through pipe by gamesome boy, And left St. James's, and St. Stephen's too,

A prey to Antichrist's detested crew;

Now, had the chimes of Paul and Peter's steeple
Proclaim'd the hour of bed to vulgar people;

And summon'd, by the self-same harmony,

The better sort of folk to early tea:—

Now, had each crescent, street, parade, and square, "call chair;"

Long echoed to the noisy cry,

Whilst many a close sedan, convey'd its freight
Of naked charms, to RAMROD's room of state",

How wisely was it ordained that a form of public thanksgiving should be annually observed, for the preservation to his subjects, of so much acuteness, erudition, and science, blended with equal sincerity, paternal affection, and patriotic attachment to his people!!!

• The abbey-church of Bath is dedicated to these two saints. It is a beautiful, elegant, and airy structure, built in the reigns of Henry VII. and VIII. and said to be the last specimen of Gothic ecclesiastical architecture in the kingdom. The chimes play at the hours of one, five, and nine.— Editor.

7 The Upper-rooms. See Bath Characters, 3d Edition, first dialogue. The frequent references in the following poem to this very entertaining work of my uncle's, will be henceforth pointed out under the initials B. C. -Editor.

Who, just escap'd from Chelt'nam's bitter springs,
Resum'd the sceptre of Bathonian kings,

And, once more, hail'd with unalloy'd delight,
The sweet return of a first dress-ball night.

Stately the monarch stept the level floor,
Eyeing, with smile benign, the open door,

Through which pour'd in his subjects, young and old.
The parson sleek, fair maid, and captain bold;
The speculating youth of Irish blood,

Brawny, and brazen, from his native wood;

Proud peer, fat dowager, with head of puff;
All, save Bath tradesmen, and such common stuff,
Who, banish'd from the fashionable ball,
Cut vulgar capers in the vile Town-hall'.

This is a delicate periphrasis for what the vulgar call, in common language, an Irish fortune-hunter:

Οι Βριάρεων καλεσι θεοι, ανδρες δε τε παντες Αιγαίων. HOMER.

* Ο όχλος στις επικατάρατοι εισι. Nothing more strikingly distinguishes the manners of Bath, from those of every other city, than the judicious precautions adopted to prevent the contamination of genteel society by the admixture

A thousand waxen tapers flame aloof,
Illumining the richly-stuccoed roof2,
Whilst pendent crystals multiply their rays,
And pour on all the beauty-height'ning blaze3.
Here, sparkle diamonds; there, in meaner taste,
Glitter the humbler ornaments of paste:
Now, lace of finest texture meets the view,
With wigs of each variety of hue:

of vulgar company. From the balls, fashionable chapels, and concerts, the filthy canaille are effectually excluded, by the barrier of special rules, which prohibit tradesmen and artists, of all descriptions, from becoming subscribers to them. The happy influence of this liberal regulation is abundantly manifested in the sagacious, unprejudiced, enlightened, masculine minds; and in the useful, dignified, and honourable avocations of the genteel inhabitants of this focal point of all wisdom and virtue. Black legs, and white legs; sad dogs, and mad dogs; rooks, pigeons, and gulls; gentlemen who live by their wits; and those who are entirely without this article, in short all such who have no business any where else, are admitted into the abovementioned fashionable menageries, provided they be not amongst that low and useless race denominated tradesmen and artists. The great advantage of such an arrangement, and of such select society as this, to young ladies who are just entering life, is too obvious to be pointed out.

3

2

A thousand tapers flam'd aloof,
Illumining the vaulted roof.
-Dependent lychni laquearibus aureis

Incensi et noctem flammis funalia vincunt.

T. WARTON.

VIRG

Now, snow-white bosoms fascinate the eye,
Swelling in all the pride of nudity:

The firm, round arm, soft cheek, and pouting lip,
And backs expos'd below the jutting hip:

To these succeed, dim eyes, and wither'd faces,
And pucker'd necks, as rough as shag-green cases;
But whose kind owners, hon'ring RAMROD's ball,
Benevolently shew their little all.

Pleas'd with the varied scene the king grew vain*, Exulting in the pride of recent reign3;

And, as he threw his quickly-glancing eyes,
Round on the crowd so rational and wise,
He thus, though silently, anticipates
Th' unequall'd glory of his future fates.

66

"Happy RAMROD! lucky dog!

'Scap'd from that 'Serbonian bog,'

"Pleas'd with the sound the prince grew vain."

DRYDEN.

5 It must be recollected that our time of poetical action is the commencement of the second season of RAMROD's appointment to the Upperrooms. His translation from the Lower ones had taken place during the preceding season.

By mortals call'd the Lower Rooms,
Fill'd with frights, and fetid fumes
Exhaling from the motley crowd,
Ill-dress'd, vulgar, rude, and loud,
Who populate the Lower town,
To fashionable life unknown.

Gods! how I bless your kind decrees,
Which, bearing me from scenes like these,
Have plac'd, at length, within my hand
The sceptre of that promis'd land,

To which my heart, my eyes, my ears,
Have been directed twenty years.
Possessing now, the post of ruling
Realms so fit to play the fool in,
Visions bright of future joy,
Open to my raptur'd eye.
Many, many years I see

Of undisputed sovereignty: