Real Life In London, Volumes I and II | Page 4

pictures were the production
of a master-hand, and might have made a dangerous impression on
minds more stoical and determined than that of Bob's. The opera,
theatres, fashionable pursuits, characters, objects, &c. all became in
succession the subjects of his pen; and if lively description, blended
with irresistible humour and sarcastic wit, possessed any power of
seduction, these certainly belonged to Bob's honourable friend and

relative, as an epistolary correspondent. The following Stanzas were
often recited by him with great feeling and animation:--
Parent of Pleasure and of many a groan, I should be loath to part with
thee, I own, Dear Life! To tell the truth, I'd rather lose a wife, Should
Heav'n e'er deem me worthy of possessing That best, that most
invaluable blessing. I thank thee, that thou brought'st me into being;
The things of this our world are well worth seeing; And let me add,
moreover, well worth feeling; Then what the Devil would people have?
These gloomy hunters of the grave, For ever sighing, groaning, canting,
kneeling. Some wish they never had been born, how odd! To see the
handy works of God, In sun and moon, and starry sky; Though last, not
least, to see sweet Woman's charms,-- Nay, more, to clasp them in our
arms, And pour the soul in love's delicious sigh, Is well worth coming
for, I'm sure, Supposing that thou gav'st us nothing more. Yet, thus
surrounded, Life, dear Life, I'm thine, And, could I always call thee
mine, I would not quickly bid this world farewell; But whether here, or
long or short my stay, I'll keep in mind for ev'ry day An old French
motto, "Vive la bagatelle!" Misfortunes are this lottery-world's sad
blanks; Presents, in my opinion, not worth thanks. The pleasures are the
twenty thousand prizes, Which nothing but a downright ass despises.
It was not, however, the mere representations of Bob's friend, with
which, (in consequence of the important result,) we commenced our
chapter, that produced the powerful effect of fixing the wavering mind
of Bob--No, it was the air--the manner--the je ne sais quoi, by which
these representations were accompanied: the curled lip of contempt,
and the eye, measuring as he spoke, from top to toe, his companions,
with the cool elegant sang froid and self-possession displayed in his
own person and manner, which became a fiat with Bob, and which
effected the object so long courted by his cousin.
After the manner of Yorick (though, by the bye, no sentimentalist) Bob
thus reasoned with himself:--"If an acquaintance with London is to give
a man these airs of superiority--this ascendancy--elegance of manners,
and command of enjoyments--why, London for me; and if pleasure is
the game in view, there will I instantly pursue the sport."

The song and toast, in unison with the sparkling glass, followed each
other in rapid succession. During which, our elegant London visitor
favoured the company with the following effusion, sung in a style equal
to (though unaccompanied with the affected airs and self-importance of)
a first-rate professor:--
SONG.
If to form and distinction, in town you would bow, Let appearance of
wealth be your care: If your friends see you live, not a creature cares
how, The question will only be, Where? A circus, a polygon, crescent,
or place, With ideas of magnificence tally; Squares are common, streets
queer, but a lane's a disgrace; And we've no such thing as an alley. A
first floor's pretty well, and a parlour so so; But, pray, who can give
themselves airs, Or mix with high folks, if so vulgarly low To live up in
a two pair of stairs? The garret, excuse me, I mean attic floor, (That's
the name, and it's right you should know it,) Would he tenantless often;
but genius will soar, And it does very well for a poet.
These amusements of the table were succeeded by a most stormy and
lengthened debate, (to use a parliamentary phrase) during which, Bob's
London friend had with daring heroism opposed the whole of the party,
in supporting the superiority of Life in London over every pleasure the
country could afford. After copious libations to Bacchus, whose
influence at length effected what oratory had in vain essayed, and
silenced these contending and jarring elements, "grey-eyed Morn"
peeped intrusively amid the jovial crew, and Somnus, (with the cart
before the horse) stepping softly on tip-toe after his companion, led, if
not by, at least accompanied with, the music of the nose, each to his
snoring pillow.
----"Glorious resolve!" exclaimed Tom, as soon as his friend had next
morning intimated his intention,--"nobly resolved indeed!--"What!
shall he whom Nature has formed to shine in the dance and sparkle in
the ring--to fascinate the fair--lead and control the fashions--attract the
gaze and admiration of the surrounding crowd!--shall