QUE GENUS, to my words attend,
The errors of your life amend ;
Resist the world's seducing power,
Or fear me at the midnight hour.'
-Thus as he thought the vision spake,
The curtains round him seem'd to shake;
And frowning, as in angry mood,
At the bed's foot the figure stood,
When, in a misty gleam of light,
It seem'd to vanish from his sight.

He woke in such an agitation
His night-cap stream'd with perspiration;
He started with a fearful stare,
Not knowing if to pray or swear.
He did from further sleep refrain
As he perhaps should dream again,
And Sommerden's departed Rector
Might read another curtain-lecture.
But when as through the shutter's crack
He saw the beams of Phœbus break,
Up he arose, the bell he rung,

And, "Breakfast," issued from his tongue :
The loud command was soon obey'd,
And morning meal in order laid.

On sofa stretch'd, he munch'd the toast,
And sipp'd the Bohea, doubly dos'd
With cordial drops, we won't say gin,
Which he pour'd plentifully in,
And did his trem'rous nerves redeem
By power of the reviving stream,
From the dire horrors of the dream.
-His spirits thus with strength recruited,
He turn'd his mind to what was suited
To the condition chance had bound him,
And perils which might still surround him:

Of his late playmates what became

When power broke up
And if pursued by any danger,
To which as yet he was a stranger.
But soon he found, enquiry made,
The Bow-street spirits all were laid;
Nor was it to the party known,

the midnight game;

By whom the mischief had been done.—
Thus, from all legal threat secure,
He felt determin'd to abjure

The course of life he had pursued,
Nor suffer knav'ry to delude
His conduct into any plan

That might disgrace a Gentleman;
The character which his fond thought
Had to a flatt'ring crisis brought,
When he might try, and not in vain,
The wish'd for honour to maintain.
Besides, in favour of his scheme,
He felt the warnings of the dream,
As he their meaning understood
Foreboded much of future good.

At length his boasting fancies tired
Of all to which his pride aspired;
And, having nothing else to do,
He sauntered forth to take a view
Of what a saunter might present
For serious thought or merriment ;
When, as he careless stroll'd along,
Half-humming some new-fangled song,
He heard a voice that did proclaim
His own but too familiar name.
'Twas Mr. CARMINE, who was known
An artist of the first renown

For portraiture of living faces,

Whose pencil gave and heighten'd graces,
Who, 'mid the hurry of the street,
Did sauntering QUE GENUS greet:
When, having sought a place of quiet,
Free from the passing, bustling riot,
In civil tones the man of art
Began his Queries to impart.
"Your family, I hope, are well,
And will you Lady VALCOUR tell,
If it so please her you may come
And fetch her fine resemblance home:
Nay she may have forgot, I fear,
That the last sitting's in arrear:
Give but the hint as I demand
And you shall feel my grateful hand."
-QUE GENUS hasten'd to reply
With the gay VALCOURS' history,
And fear'd that, for a year or two,
The picture must in statu quo
Within his gallery remain,

At least, till they came home again.

"Well then," said CARMINE, "tell me friend,

What fortunes on your steps attend."

"Sir," he replied, "'tis Fortune's pleasure
I should enjoy a state of leisure.
Sir CHARLES, SO generous and kind,
Wish'd not that I should stay behind,
Nay, would have paid me high to go,
As I've a paper that will shew:
But certain schemes play'd on my brain
Which fix'd my purpose to remain,
And yet, with all my honest care,
I have not brought one scheme to bear."
"My friend," the artist said, "if you
Have not a better scheme in view,

My place, unless I greatly err,
Would suit your turn and character
'Tis but to know and to make known
The beauties by my pencil shewn,
And lard, as you the occasion see,
With strokes of modest flattery.
Take care you manage well your tongue
To please the old as well as young,
And study the expressive grace
That's seen to beam on any face;
When, in fair words and cautious mood
You may mark the similitude
Between the charms that smiling live,
And such as art like mine can give.
Nor to the sex your hints confine,
The ermin'd sage and grave divine,
The chubby face of childhood too
Attention must be made to woo,
While I shall to your mind impart
The nomenclature of my art ;-
And if, as I presume you will,
Display the show with ready skill,

From Misses, Beaux, Old Dames and Sages,
You'll gain, Good Fellow, three-fold wages.
-Now turn the offer in your mind,
And, if your prudence is inclin'd
To take it, you will let me know
To-morrow how your wishes flow."

What though it was his warm desire
From days of service to retire ;

Though he now hop'd the time drew nigh
To change his humble destiny,

He ask'd permission of his pride

That one more service might be tried,