histories run-

Was a jolly young chap,

and a son of the Sun;

You'll rue the day,

as to his mother, Genealogists make a deuce

of a pother,

Some going for one, and

some for another! For myself, I must say, as a careful explorer, This roaring young blade was the son of Aurora!

Now old Father Phoebus, ere railways begun
To elevate funds and depreciate fun,

Drove a very fast coach by the name of "the
Sun;"

Running, they say,

Trips every day

(On Sundays and all, in a heathenish way), And lighted up with famous array

Of lanterns that shone with a brilliant display, And dashing along like a gentleman's shay With never a fare and nothing to pay.

Now Phaethon begged of his doting old father To grant him a favour, and that the rather, Since some one had hinted, the youth to annoy, That he wasn't by any means Phoebus's boy. Intending, the rascally son of a gun,

To darken the brow of the son of the Sun. "By the terrible Styx," said the angry sire, While his eyes flashed volumes of fury and fire, "To prove your reviler an infamous liar,

I swear I will grant you whate'er you desire." "Then by my head,"

But the youth was proud,

And swore aloud

It was just the thing to astonish a crowd.
He'd have the horses-he wouldn't be cowed.
In vain the boy was cautioned at large;
He called for the chargers, unheeding the charge,
And vowed that any young chap of force
Could manage a dozen coursers of course!
Now Phoebus felt exceedingly sorry

He had given his word in such a hurry.
But having sworn by the Styx, no doubt,
He was in for it now, and couldn't back out!
So calling Phaethon up in a trice,
He gave the youth a bit of advice-

"Parce stimulis, utere loris"

(A stage direction, of which the core is,
Don't use the whip-they're ticklish things,
But whatever you do, hold on to the strings!)
"Medio tutissimus ibis,"

As the judge remarked to a rowdy Scotchman,
Who was going along between two watchmen,
"So mind your eye and spare your goad,
Be shy of the stones, and keep in the road!"

Now Phaethon, perched in the coachman's place,
Drove off the steeds at a furious pace,
Fast as coursers running a race,
Or bounding along in a steeple-chase;
Of whip and shout there was no lack,
"Crack! whack!

Whack! crack!"
Resounded along the horses' back!
Frightened beneath the stinging lash
Cutting their flanks in many a gash,
On-on they sped, as swift as a flash,
Through thick and thin away they dash
(Such rapid driving is always rash).
When all at once, with a dreadful crash,
The whole establishment went to smash,
And Phaethon he,

As all agree,

Off the coach was suddenly hurled Into a puddle and out of the world!

MORAL.

Don't rashly take to dangerous courses, Nor set it down in your table of forces, That any one man equals any four horses,

The advent'rous baron the bright locks admired; He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired. Resolved to win, he meditates the way, By force to ravish, or by fraud betray; For when success a lover's toil attends, Few ask if fraud or force attained his ends. For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implored Propitious heaven, and every power adored; But chiefly Love-to Love an altar built, Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves, And all the trophies of his former loves; With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize; The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer, The rest the winds dispersed in empty air.

But now secure the painted vessel glides,
The sunbeams trembling on the floating tides:
While melting music steals upon the sky,
And softened sounds along the waters die;
Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play,
Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay.
All but the Sylph, with careful thoughts opprest,
The impending woe sat heavy on his breast.
He summons straight his denizens of air;
The lucid squadrons round the sails repair.
Soft o'er the shrouds aërial whispers breathe,
That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath.
Some to the sun their insect wings unfold,
Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold;
Transparent forms, too fine for mortal sight,
Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light,
Loose to the wind their airy garments flew,
Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew,
Dipped in the richest tincture of the skies,
Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes;
While every beam new transient colours flings,
Colours that change whene'er they wave their
wings.

Amid the circle on the gilded mast,
Superior by the head was Ariel placed;
His purple pinions opening to the sun,
He raised his azure wand and thus begun :-
"Ye sylphs and sylphids, to your chief give ear;
Fays, fairies, genii, elves, and dæmons, hear!
Ye know the spheres, and various tasks assigned
By laws eternal to the aerial kind.
Some in the fields of purest ether play,
And bask and whiten in the blaze of day;
Some guide the course of wandering orbs on high,
Or roll the planets through the boundless sky;
Some, less refined, beneath the moon's pale light
Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night,
Or suck the mists in grosser air below,
Or dip their pinions in the painted bow,
Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main,
Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain.

Others on earth o'er human race preside,
Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide
Of these, the chief the care of nations own,
And guard with arms divine the British throne.

Our humbler province is to tend the fair,
Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care;
To save the powder from too rude a gale,
Nor let the imprisoned essences exhale;
To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers;
To steal from rainbows, ere they drop in showers,
A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs,
Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs;
Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow,
To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.

This day, black omens threat the brightest fair
That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care;
Some dire disaster, or by force or flight;
But what, or where, the fates have wrapped in
night.

Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law,
Or some frail China-jar receive a flaw,
Or stain her honour, or her new brocade,
Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;
Or lose her heart or necklace at a ball;

Or whether heaven has doomed that Shock must fall.

Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair:
The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care;
The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign;
And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine;
Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite Lock;
Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.
To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,
We trust the important charge, the petticoat:
Oft have we known that seven-fold fence to fail,
Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of
whale.

Form a strong line about the silver bound,
And guard the wide circumference around.

Whatever spirit, careless of his charge,
His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large,
Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins,
Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins;
Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie,
Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin's eye:
Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain,
While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain;
Or alum styptics, with contracting power,
Shrink his thin essence like a shrivelled flower:
Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel
The giddy motion of the whirling mill;
In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow,
And tremble at the sea that froths below!"

He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend: Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend; Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair, Some hang upon the pendants of her ear: With beating hearts the dire event they wait, Anxious, and trembling for the birth of fate.

HE that would strive to fashion his legs to his silk stockings, and his proud gait to his broad garters, let him whiff down these observations; for if he once get to walk by the book-and I see no reason but he may, as well as fight by the book-Paul's may be proud of him; Will Clarke shall ring forth encomiums in his honour; John, in Paul's Churchyard, shall fit his head for an excellent block; whilst all the inns of court rejoice to behold his most handsome calf.

Your mediterranean isle is then the only gallery, wherein the pictures of all your true fashionate and complimental gulls are, and ought to be hung up. Into that gallery carry your neat body; but take heed you pick out such an hour when the main shoal of islanders are swimming up and down. And first observe your doors of entrance and your exit; not much unlike the players at the theatres; keeping your decorums even in fantasticality. As, for example, if you prove to be a northern gentleman, I would wish you to pass through the north door, more often especially than any of the other; and so, according to your countries, take note of your entrances.

Now for your venturing into the walk. Be circumspect and wary what pillar you come in at; and take heed in any case, as you love the reputation of your honour, that you avoid the servingman's log, and approach not within five fathom of that pillar; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the church may appear to be yours; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloak from the one shoulder; and then you must, as 'twere in anger, suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside, if it be taffeta at the least; and so by that means your costly lining is betrayed, or else by the pretty advantage of compliment. But one note by the way do I especially woo you to, the 39-VOL. I.

(Drawn by S. SMITH.)

305

neglect of which makes many of our gallants cheap and ordinary, that by no means you be seen above four turns; but in the fifth make yourself away, either in some of the sempsters' shops, the new tobacco-office, or amongst the booksellers, where, if you cannot read, exercise your smoke, and inquire who has writ against this divine weed, &c. For this withdrawing yourself a little will much benefit your suit, which else, by too long walking, would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoever, if Paul's jacks be once up with their elbows, and quarrelling to strike eleven; as soon as ever the clock has parted them, and ended the fray with his hammer, let not the duke's gallery contain you any longer, but pass away apace in open view; in which departure, if by chance you