A LECTURE ON HEADS

By Geo. Alex. Stevens

WITH ADDITIONS, By Mr. Pilon

AS DELIVERED by Mr. Charles Lee Lewes. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED, AN ESSAY ON SATIRE. 

WITH FORTY-SEVEN HEADS By Nesbit, From Designs By Thurston. 

1812. 

[Transcriber's Note: Numbers in the text within curly brackets are pagenumbers. ]

ADDRESS TO THE PUBLIC. 

There having been several pirated editions published of this Lecture, it is necessary to describe their nature, and to explain the manner inwhich they were obtained; from which the public will judge, how muchthey have been imposed upon by the different publishers. 

When the Lecture was first exhibited, a very paltry abridgment waspublished by a bookseller in the city. This edition was so differentfrom the original delivered by Mr. Stevens, that he thought it toocontemptible to affect his interest, which alone prevented him fromcommencing any legal process against the {VI}publisher for thustrespassing on his right and property. 

Mr. Stevens, having exhibited his Lecture with most extraordinarysuccess in London, afterwards delivered it, with a continuance of thatsuccess, in almost every principal town in England and Ireland. Duringthis itinerant stage of its exhibition, it had received great additionsand improvements from the hints and suggestions of Churchill, Howard, Shuter, and many other wits, satirists, and humourists, of that day. Ittherefore re-appeared again in London almost a new performance. This, I suppose, induced another bookseller in the Strand to publish hisedition, with notes, written by a Reverend Gentleman: however this mightbe, Mr. Stevens obtained an injunction against the continuance ofthat publication; he was dissuaded from proceeding to trial by theinterposition of friends, who persuaded the litigants, over a bottle, to terminate their difference; Mr. Stevens withdrew his action, andthe publication was suppressed. I relate this circumstance from {VII}theauthority of Mr. Stevens himself. The public will, no doubt, besurprised to find that this Lecture should ever have been pirated, byone who is now complaining of a similar act against himself. I am noadvocate for any infringements of right or property; but I cannot avoidthinking, that complaints of this nature come with a very ill gracefrom those who have committed the same species of literary depredationsthemselves. The last piratical publication of this Lecture was by astationer in Paternoster-Row, who has had the assurance to use my namewithout having my authority, or even asking my permission. He likewisevery falsely and impudently asserts, that he has published it as Ispoke it at Covent-Garden theatre. It is so much the contrary, thatit contains not a syllable of the new matter with which it was thenaugmented. With respect to the rest, it is taken from the spurious andvery imperfect abridgment first mentioned in this piratical list. It is, therefore, evident, that the original Lecture was never before publisheduntil this opportunity {VIII}which I have taken of thus submitting it tothe Public, for their approbation and patronage, whose

Most humble and devoted servant

I am, CHARLES LEE LEWES. 

July 22, 1785. 

PROLOGUE, Written By Mr. Pilon Spoken At The Theatre Royal, Covent-Garden, June24, 1780. 

 All's safe here, I find, though the rabble rout A few doors lower burnt the quorum out. Sad times, when Bow-street is the scene of riot, And justice cannot keep the parish quiet. But peace returning, like the dove appears, And this association stills my fears; Humour and wit the frolic wing may spread, And we give harmless Lectures on the Head. Watchmen in sleep may be as snug as foxes, And snore away the hours within their boxes; Nor more affright the neighbourhood with warning, Of past twelve o'clock, a troublesome morning. Mynheer demanded, at the general shock, "Is the Bank safe, or has it lower'd the stock?" "Begar, " a Frenchman cried, "the Bank we'll rob, "For I have got the purse to bribe the mob. "-- "Hoot awa, mon!" the loyal Scot replies, "You'll lose your money, for we'll hong the spies: "Fra justice now, my lad, ye shanna budge, "Tho' ye've attack'd the justice and the judge. "-- "Oh! hold him fast, " says Paddy, "for I'll swear "I saw the iron rails in Bloomsbury-square "Burnt down to the ground, and heard the mob say, "They'd burn down the Thames the very next day. " Tumult and riot thus on every side Swept off fair order like the raging tide; Law was no more, for, as the throng rush'd by, "Woe to my Lord Chief Justice!" was the cry. And he, rever'd by every muse so long, Whom tuneful Pope immortaliz'd in song, Than whom bright genius boasts no higher name, Ev'n he could find no sanctuary in fame; With brutal rage the Vandals all conspire, And rolls of science in one blaze expire. But England, like the lion, grows more fierce As dangers multiply, and foes increase; Her gen'rous sons, with Roman ardour warm, In martial bands to shield their country arm, And when we trembled for the city's fate, Her youth stood forth the champions of the state; Like brothers, leagu'd by nature's holy tie, A parent land to save, or bravely die. Did Britons thus, like brothers, always join, In vain to crush them would the world combine; Discord domestic would no more be known, And brothers learn affection from the throne. But know your Lecturer's awful hour is come When you must bid him live, or seal his doom! He knows 'tis hard a leader's post to fill Of fame superior, and more ripen'd skill. The blame will all be mine, if troops should fail, Who'd lose their heads, but never could turn tail Who no commander ever disobey'd, Or overlook'd the signals which he made. Under your auspices the field I take, For a young general some allowance make; But if disgracefully my army's led, Let this court-martial then cashier my head. 

ADDITIONAL LINES TO THE PROLOGUE, Spoken At Newbury, In Consequence Of Lady Craven Bespeaking The Lecture, Who Had Published Some Lines On Dreaming She Saw Her Heart At Her Feet. 

 Written By Mr. Pratt. 

 'MIDST scenes like these, for so her lines impart, The Queen of Benham lost that gem her heart; Scar'd by the din, her bosom treasure flew, And with it every grace and muse withdrew. But far, or long, the wanderer could not roam, For wit and taste soon brought the truant home! One tuneful sonnet at her feet it sung, Then to her breast, its snowy mansion, sprung; Thither it went, the virtues in its train, To hail the panting blessing back again. On its fair throne it now appears as Queen, And sheds its lustre o'er this humble scene; Its radiant sceptre deigns o'er me to spread The genial beams which fancy feign'd were fled. Ah, no! her gentle heart this night is here; Where'er 'tis wanted-you will find it there: In vain the Muse shall fix it on the floor, It knocks this ev'ning at the Lecturer's door, And smiles, with him, that riot is no more. 

LECTURE ON HEADS. 

PART I. 

{1}Every single speaker, who, like me, attempts to entertain anaudience, has not only the censure of that assembly to dread, but alsoevery part of his own behaviour to fear. The smallest error of voice, judgment, or delivery, will be noted: "All that can be presumed upon inhis favour is, _a hope_ that he may meet with that indulgence whichan English audience are so remarkable _for_, and that every exhibitionstands so much in need _of_. "

This method of lecturing is a very ancient custom; Juno, the wife ofJupiter, being the first who gave her husband a lecture, and, from theplace wherein that oration was supposed to have been delivered, theyhave always, since that time, been called _curtain lectures_. 

{2}But, before I pretend to make free with other people's heads, it maybe proper to say something upon my own, if upon my own any thing couldbe said to the purpose; but, after many experiments, finding I could notmake any thing of my own, I have taken the liberty to try what I coulddo by exhibiting a Collection of Heads belonging to other people. Buthere is a head [shews Stevens''s head] I confess I have more than oncewished on my own shoulders: but I fear my poor abilities will bringa blush into its cheeks. In this head Genius erected a temple toOriginality, where Fancy and Observation resided; and from their unionsprang this numerous and whimsical progeny. This is the head of GeorgeAlexander Stevens, long known and long respected; a man universallyacknowledged of infinite wit and most excellent fancy; one who gavepeculiar grace to the jest, and could set the table in a roar withflashes of merriment: but wit and humour were not his only excellencies;he possessed a keenness of satire, that made Folly hide her head in thehighest places, and Vice tremble in the bosoms of the great: but now, blessed with that affluence which genius and prudence are sure toacquire in England, the liberal patroness of the fine arts, he nowenjoys that ease his talents {3}have earned, whilst Fame, like anevening sun, gilds the winter of his life with mild, but cheerful beams. With respect, but honest ambition, I have undertaken to fill his place, and hope my attention and zeal to please, will speak in behalf ofconscious inferiority. 

A HEAD, to speak in the gardener's style, is a mere _bulbousexcrescence_, growing out from between the shoulders like a wen; it issupposed to be a mere expletive, just to wear a hat on, to fill up thehollow of a wig, to take snuff with, or have your hair dressed upon. 

Some of these heads are manufactured in _wood_, some in _pasteboard_;which is a hint to shew there may not only be _block-heads_, but also_paper-skulls_. 

{4}Physicians acquaint us that, upon any fright or alarm, the spiritsfly up into the _head_, and the blood rushes violently back to the_heart_. Hence it is, politicians compare the human constitution andthe nation's constitution together: they supposing the head to be the_court_ end of the town, and the heart the _country_; for people in thecountry seem to be taking things to heart, and people at court seem towish to be at the head of things. 

We make a mighty bustle about the twenty-four letters; how many changesthey can ring, and how many volumes they have composed; yet, let us lookupon the many millions of mankind, and see if any two faces are alike. Nature never designed several faces which we see; it is the odd exercisethey give the muscles belonging to their visages occasions such looks:as, for example; we meet in the streets with several people talking tothemselves, and seem much pleased with such conversation. [_Here takethem off. _] Some people we see staring at every thing, and wonderingwith a foolish face of praise, [_make a face here_]; some laughing, some crying. Now crying and laughing are contrary effects, the leastalteration of features occasions the difference; it is turning _up_ themuscles to laugh [_do so here_], and _down_ to cry. 

{5}Yet laughter is much mistook, no person being capable of laughing, who is incapable of thinking. For some people suddenly break out intoviolent spasms, ha, ha, ha! and then without any gradation, changeat once into downright stupidity; as for example-[_Here shews theexample. _]

In speaking about faces, we shall now exhibit a bold face. [_Shews thehead. _]

This is Sir Whisky Whiffle. He is one of those mincing, tittering, tip-toe, tripping animalculæ of the times, that flutter about fine womenlike flies in a flower garden; as harmless, and as constant as theirshadows, they dangle by the side of beauty like part of their watchequipage, as glittering, as light, and as useless; and the ladies suffer{6}such things about them, as they wear soufflée gauze, not as things ofvalue, but merely to make a shew with: they never say any thing to thepurpose; but with this in their hands [_takes up an eye-glass_] theystare at ladies, as if they were a jury of astronomers, executing a writof inquiry upon some beautiful planet: they imagine themselves possessedof the power of a rattle-snake, who can, as it is said, fascinate by alook; and that every fine woman must, at first sight, fall into theirarms. --"Ha! who's that, Jack? she's a devilish fine woman, 'pon honour, an immensely lovely creature; who is she? She must be one of us; shemust be comeatable, 'pon honour. "--"No, Sir, " replies a stranger, thatoverheard him, "she's a lady of strict virtue. "--"Is she so? I'll lookat her again--ay, ay, she may be a lady of strict virtue, for, now Ilook at her again, there is something devilish un-genteel about her. "

{7}_Wigs_, as well as _books_, are furniture for the head, and both_wigs_ and _books_ are sometimes equally voluminous. We may thereforesuppose this wig [_shews a large wig_] to be a huge quarto in largepaper; this is a duodecimo in small print [_takes the knowing head_];and this a jockey's head, sweated down to ride a sweepstakes. [_Takesthe jockey's head. _] Now a jockey's head and a horse's head have greataffinity, for the jockey's head can pull the horse's head on which sideof the post the rider pleases: but what sort of heads must those peoplehave who know such things are done, and will trust such sinkingfunds with their capitals? These are a couple of heads which, in the{8}Sportsman's Calendar, are called a brace of knowing ones; and, as agreat many people about London affect to be thought knowing ones, theydress themselves in these fashions, as if it could add to the dignityof ahead, to shew they have taken their degrees from students in thestable, up to the masters of arts, upon a coach-box. [_ Gives the twoheads off, and takes the book-case. _]

The phrase of wooden-heads is no longer paradoxical; some people set upwooden studies, cabinet-makers become book-makers, and a man may shew aparade of much reading, by only the assistance of a timber-merchant. Astudent in the temple may be furnished with a collection of lawbooks cut from a _whipping-post_; physical dictionaries may be had in_Jesuits' bark_; a treatise upon duels in _touchwood_; the historyof opposition in _wormwood_; Shakespeare's works in _cedar_, hiscommentators in _rotten wood_; the reviewers in birch, and the historyof England in _heart of oak_. 

Mankind now make use of substitutes in more things than book-making andmilitia-men: some husbands are apt to substitute inferior women to theirown ladies, like the idiot, who exchanged a brilliant for a pieceof broken looking-glass; of such husbands we can only say, they have{9}borrowed their education from these libraries, and have wooden, verywooden tastes indeed. [_ Gives it off. _]

Here's a head full charged for _fun_ [_takes the head_], a comicalhalf-foolish face, what a great many upon the stage can put on, and whata great many people, not upon the stage, can't put off. This man alwayslaughed at what he said himself, and he imagined a man of wit mustalways be upon the broad grin; and whenever he was in company he wasalways teasing some one to be merry, saying, "Now you, muster what doyou call 'im? do now say something to make us all laugh; come, do nowbe comical a little. " But if there is no {10}other person will speak, hewill threaten to "tell you a story to make you die with laughing, " andhe will assure you, "it is the most bestest and most comicallest storythat ever you heard in all your born days;" and he always interlardshis narration with "so as I was a saying, says I, and so as he wasa saying, says he; so says he to me, and I to him, and he to meagain;----did you ever hear any thing more comical in all your borndays?" But after he has concluded his narration, not finding any personeven to smile at what he said, struck with the disappointment, he putson a sad face himself, and, looking round upon the company, he says, "It was a good story when I heard it too: why then so, and so, and so, that's all, that's all, gentlemen. " [_Puts on a foolish look, and givesthe head off. _]

{11}Here is Master Jacky [_takes the head_], mamma's darling; when shewas with child of him she dreamt she was brought to bed of a pincushion. He was never suffered to look into a book for fear of making himround-shouldered, yet was an immense scholar for all that; his mamma'swoman had taught him all Hoyle by heart, and he could calculate to asingle tea-spoonful how much cream should be put into a codlin tart. Hewears a piece of lace which seems purloined from a lady's tucker, andplaced here, to shew that such beings as these can make no other useof ladies' favours than to expose them. Horace had certainly such acharacter in view by his _dulcissime rerum_--"sweetest of all things;"all essence and effeminacy; {12}and that line of his--_Quid Agis, dulcissime rerum?_ may be rendered, "What ails you, master Jacky?" Asthey have rivalled the ladies in the delicacy of their complexion, theladies therefore have a right to make reprisals, and to take up thatmanliness which our sex seems to have cast off. 

Here is a Lady in her fashionable uniform. [_Takes up the head. _] Shelooks as if marching at the head of a battalion, or else up before dayto follow the hounds with spirit; while this lies in bed all themorning, with his hands wrapped up in chicken gloves, his complexioncovered with milk of roses, essence of May-dew, and lily of the valleywater. This does honour to creation; this {13}disgraces it. And so farhave these things femalized themselves, by effeminate affections, that, if a lady's cap was put on this head, Master Jacky might be taken forMiss Jenny [_puts a lady's cap on the head of Master Jacky_]; thereforegrammarians can neither rank them as _masculine_ or _feminine_, so setthem down of the _doubtful_ gender. [_Puts off the heads. _]

Among the multitude of odd characters with which this kingdom abounds, some are called generous fellows, some honest fellows, and some devilishclever fellows. Now the generous fellow is treat-master; thehonest fellow is toast-master; and the devilish clever fellow he issinging-master, who is to keep the company alive for four or five hours;then your honest fellow is to drink them all dead afterwards. Theymarried into Folly's family, from whom they received this crest, andwhich nobody chooses to be known by. [_ Takes up the fool's cap. _]

{14}This Fool's Cap is the greatest wanderer known; it never comeshome to any body, and is often observed to belong to every body butthemselves. It is odd, but the word nobody, and the term nothing, although no certain ideas can be affixed to them, are often made suchuse of in conversation. Philosophers have declared they knew nothing, and it is common for us to talk about doing nothing; for, from ten totwenty we go to school to be taught what from twenty to thirty we arevery apt to forget; from thirty to forty we begin to settle; from fortyto fifty we think away as fast as we can; from fifty to sixty we arevery careful in our accounts; and from sixty to seventy we cast up whatall our thinking comes to; and then, {15}what between our losses and ourgains, our enjoyments and our inquietudes, even with the addition ofold age, we can but strike this balance [_Takes the board withcyphers_]--These are a number of nothings, they are hieroglyphics ofpart of human kind; for in life, as well as in arithmetic, there area number of nothings, which, like these cyphers, mean nothing inthemselves, and are totally insignificant; but, by the addition of asingle figure at their head, they assume rank and value in an instant. The meaning of which is, that nothing may be turned into something bythe single power of any one who is lord of a golden manor. [_Turns theboard, shews the golden one. _] But, as these persons' gains come fromnothing, we may suppose they will come to nothing; and happy are theywho, amidst the variations of nothing, have nothing to fear: if theyhave nothing to lose, they have nothing to lament; and, if they havedone nothing to be ashamed of, they have every thing to hope for. Thusconcludes the dissertation upon nothing, which the exhibitor hopes hehas properly executed, by making nothing of it. 

{16}This is the head of a London Blood, taken from the life. [_Holds thehead up. _] He wears a bull's forehead for a fore-top, in commemorationof that great blood of antiquity, called Jupiter, who turned himselfinto a bull to run away with Europa: and to this day bloods arevery fond of making beasts of themselves. He imagined that all mirthconsisted in doing mischief, therefore he would throw a waiter out ofthe window, and bid him to be put into the reckoning, toss a beggar ina blanket, play at chuck with china plates, run his head against a wall, hop upon one leg for an hour together, carry a red-hot poker round theroom between his teeth, and say, "done first for fifty. "

{17}He was quite the thing, either for kicking up a riot, or keepingit up after he had kicked it up: he was quite the thing, for one day hekicked an old woman's codlin-kettle about the streets: another time heshoved a blind horse into a china shop--_that was damned jolly_: he wasa constant customer to the round house: a terror to modest women, and adupe to the women of the town; of which this is exhibited as a portrait. [_ Take the head. _] This is the head of a Man of the Town, or a Blood;and this of a Woman of the Town, or a ------; but whatever other titlethe lady may have, we are not entitled to take notice of it; all that wecan say is, that we beg Mirth will spare one {18}moment to Pity; let notdelicacy be offended if we pay a short tribute of compassion to theseunhappy examples of misconduct; indeed, in the gay seasons of irregularfestivity, indiscretion appears thus--[_takes off that, shews theother:_] but there is her certain catastrophe; how much thereforeought common opinion to be despised, which supposes the same fact, thatbetrays female honour, can add to that of a gentleman's. When a beautyis robbed, the hue and cry which is raised, is never raised in herfavour; deceived by ingratitude, necessity forces her to continuecriminal, she is ruined by our sex, and prevented reformation by thereproaches of her own. [_Takes it off. _] As this is the head of a Bloodgoing to keep it up [_takes it off_], here is the head of a Blood afterhe has kept it up. [_Shews that head. _] This is the head of a marriedBlood--what a pretty piece of additional furniture this is to a lady ofdelicacy's bed-chamber: What then? it's beneath a man of spirit, witha bumper in his hand, to think of a wife: that would be spoiling hissentiment: no, he is to keep it up, and to shew in what manner ourLondon Bloods do keep it up. We shall conclude the first part of thislecture by attempting a specimen--[_puts on the Blood's wig_]: "Keep itup, huzza! {19}keep it up! I loves fun, for I made a fool of my fatherlast April day. I will tell you what makes me laugh so; we were keepingit up, faith, so about four o'clock this morning I went down into thekitchen, and there was Will the waiter fast asleep by the kitchen fire;the dog cannot keep it up as we do: so what did I do, but I goes softly, and takes the tongs, and I takes a great red-hot coal out of the fire, as big as my head, and I plumpt it upon the fellow's foot, because Iloves fun; so it has lamed the fellow, and that makes me laugh so. Youtalk of your saying good things; I said one of the best things last weekthat ever any man said in all the world. It was what you call your_rappartées_, your _bobinâtes_. I'll tell you what it was: You mustknow, I was in high spirits, faith, so I stole a dog from a blind man, for I do love fun! so then the blind man cried for his dog, and thatmade me laugh; so says I to the blind man, 'Hip, master, do you wantyour dog?' 'Yes, sir, ' says he. Now, only mind what I said to theblind man. Says I, 'Do you want your dog?' 'Yes, sir, ' says he. Thensays I to the blind man, says I, 'Go look for him. '--Keep it up! keep itup!--That's the worst of it, I always turn sick when I think of aparson, I always do; and my brother he {20}is a parson too, and he hatesto hear any body swear; so I always swear when I am along with him, toroast him. I went to dine with him one day last week, and there was mysisters, and two or three more of what you call your modest women; but Isent 'em all from the table before the dinner was half over, for I lovesfun; and so there was nobody but my brother and me, and I begun toswear; I never swore so well in all my life; I swore all my new oaths;it would have done you good to have heard me swear: so then, my brotherlooked frightened, and that was fun. At last he laid down his knife andfork, and lifting up his hands and his eyes, he calls out, _Oh Tempora!oh Mores!_---'Oh ho, brother!' says I, 'what, you think to frighten me, by calling all your family about you; but I don't mind you, nor yourfamily neither--Only bring Tempora and Mores here, that's all; I'll boxthem for five pounds; here, --where's Tempora and Mores? where arethey?--Keep it up! keep it up!"

END OF PART I. 

PART II. 

THE FIVE SCIENCES: ARCHITECTURE, PAINTING, POETRY, MUSIC, ANDASTRONOMY. 

{21}This is a small exhibition of pictures. These pictures are placedhere to shew the partiality of the present times. Formerly seven citiescontended for the honour of having Homer for their countryman; but assoon as it was known these sciences were born in England, the whole clubof Connoiseurs exclaimed against them, saying, it was impossible thatthere could be any real genius among them, our atmosphere being toothick and too heavy to nourish any fine ideas. These sciences, beingfound out to be mere English, were treated as impostors; for, as theyhad not ft handsome wife, nor sister, to speak for them, not one singleelection vote in their family, nor a shilling in their pockets to bribethe turnpike {22}door-keeper, they could not succeed; besides, Chinese, zig-zag, and gothic imitations, monopolized all premiums: and the envyof prejudice, and the folly of fashion, made a party against them. Theywere so weak in themselves, as to imagine the merits of their workswould recommend them to the world. Poor creatures! they knew nothing ofthe world, to suppose so; for merit is the only thing in the world notrecommendable. To prevent starving, Architecture hired herself as abrick-layer's {23}labourer to a Chinese temple-builder; Painting took onas a colour-grinder to a paper-stainer; Poetry turned printer's devil;Music sung ballads about the streets: and Astronomy {24}sold almanacks. They rambled about in this manner for some time; at last, they pickedup poor Wit, who lay ill of some bruises he had received one masqueradenight. 

As poor Wit was coming down the Haymarket, just as the masqueradewas breaking up, the noise of a pickpocket was announced, upon whichBuffoonery fell upon Wit, and mangled him most piteously. Inventionstood Wit's friend, and help-ed him to make his escape to thoseSciences. Now it happened that night, Lady Fashion had lost herlap-dog, which Wit found, and brought to these his companions, forwhom Architecture built a little house; Painting made a portrait of it:Poetry wrote a copy of verses upon it, which Music put a tune to; andAstronomy calculated the dear creature's nativity; which so pleased LadyFashion, that she recommended them to the house of Ostentation, but leftWit behind, because as wit was out of taste, Fashion would not haveany thing to say to it. However, some of her Ladyship's upper servantsinvited Wit into the steward's room, and, according to the idea somefolks have of Wit, they begged he'd be comical. One brought him a pokerto bend over his arm; another desired he would eat a little fire for 'embefore dinner; the {25}butler requested a tune upon the musical glasses;my lady's woman desired he would tell her fortune by the cards; and thegrooms said, "as how, if his honour was a wit, he could ride upon threehorses at once. " But before Wit could answer to any of these questions, the French governess belonging to the family came down stairs, andordered Wit to be turned out of doors, saying, "Vat want you vid Vit, when you are studying à la Françoise? I'll vous assurez, I'll vousassurez, if you will have us for your masters, you must have no vit atall. " [_The sciences taken off. _]

Poor Wit being turned out of doors, wandered about friendless, forit was never yet known that a man's wit ever gained him a friend. Heapplied himself to the proprietors of the newspapers, but upon theirinquiring whether he understood politics, and being totally ignorant ofthem, they would not employ him. He enquired after Friendship, but foundFriendship was drowned at the last general election; he went to find outHospitality, but Hospitality being invited to a turtle-feast, there wasno room for Wit; he asked after Charity, but it being found that Charitywas that day run over by a bishop's new set of coach-horses, he diedbroken-hearted, being a distemper which, although {26}not catalogued inthe Materia Medica, is very epidemical among beautiful women, and menof genius, who, having worn themselves out in making other peoplehappy, are at last neglected, and left to perish amid age and infirmity, wondering how the world could be so ungrateful. 

Here is the Head of a Connoisseur. [_Takes the head. _]--Though born inthis kingdom, he had travelled long enough to fall in love with everything foreign, and despise every thing belonging to his own country, except himself. He pretended to be a great judge of paintings, but onlyadmired those done a great way off, and a great while ago; he could notbear anything done by any of his own countrymen; and one day being inan auction-room where {27}there was a number of capital pictures, and, among the rest, an inimitable piece of painting of fruits and flowers, the Connoisseur would not give his opinion of the picture until he hadexamined his catalogue, and finding it was done by an Englishman, hepulled out his eye-glass [_Takes the eyeglass, _] "O, Sir, " says he, "these English fellows have no more idea of genius than a Dutch skipperhas of dancing a cotillion; the dog has spoiled a fine piece of canvas;he's worse than a Harp-Alley sign-post dauber; there's no keeping, no perspective, no fore-ground;--why there now, the fellow {28}hasattempted to paint a fly upon that rose-bud, why it's no more like a flythan I am like an a--a--. " But as the connoisseur approached his fingerto the picture, the fly flew away---His eyes are half closed; this iscalled the wise man's wink, and shews he can see the world with halfan eye; he had so wonderful a penetration, so inimitable a forecast, healways could see how every thing was to be--after the affair was over. 

Then talking of the affairs of administration, he told his lordship, that he could see how things were all along, they could not deceive him. "I can see if other people can't; I can see, if the ministry take thelead, they won't be behind hand. " This man found out the only schemethat ever could be invented for paying off the national debt; the schemethat he found out, he discovered to the ministry as follows:

"Now, my lord duke, I have a scheme to pay off our nation's debt withoutburthening the subject with a fresh tax; my scheme is as follows: Iwould have all the Thames water bottled up, and sold for Spa water. Who'll buy it, you'll say? Why the waterman's company must buy it, orthey never could work their boats any more: there's a {29}scheme topay off the nation's debt, without burthening the subject with a freshtax. " [_ Takes the head off. _]

Here is a companion for that connoisseur; this is one of yourworldly-wise men, wise in his own conceit; he laughed at all modesof faith, and would have a reason given him for every thing. Hedisinherited his only son because the lad could not give him a reasonwhy a black hen laid a white egg. He was a great materialist, and thushe proved the infinity of matter. He told them, that all round thingswere globular, all square things flat-sided. Now, Sir, if the bottom isequal to the top, and the top equal to the bottom, and the {30}bottomand the top are equal to the four sides, _ergo_, all matter is as broadas it is long. But he had not in his head matter sufficient to provematter efficient; being thus deficient, he knew nothing of the matter. [_ Takes off the head. _]

We shall now exhibit a Freeholder's Head in a very particular state--ina state of intoxication. [_Shews the head. _]

These pieces of money are placed like doors over the senses, to openand shut just as the distributor of the medicine pleases. And here is anelection picture [_shews it_]: all hands are catching at this; 'tis aninterpretation of that famous sentiment, "May we have in our arms thosewe love in our hearts. " Now the day of election is {31}madman's holiday, 'tis the golden day of liberty, which every voter, on that day, takes tomarket, and is his own salesman: for man at that time being consideredas a mere machine, is acted upon as machines are, and, to make hiswheels move properly, he is properly greased in the fist. [_ Givesoff the picture. _] Every freeholder enjoys his portion of septennialinsanity: he'll eat and drink with every body without paying for it, because he's bold and free; then he'll knock down every body who won'tsay as he says, to prove his abhorrence of arbitrary power, and preservethe liberty of Old England for ever, huzza! [_Gives off the head. _]

The first contested election happened between the three goddesses uponMount Ida, whose names were, Juno, Minerva, and Venus, when Paris wasthe returning officer, who decreed in favour of Venus, by presenting herwith the golden apple. [_ Takes up the money. _] Juno, on her approachingParis, told him, that though it was beneath her dignity to converse witha mortal, yet, if he would be her friend, she would make him a nabob. Minerva told him how that learning was better than house and land, andif he would be her friend, she would teach him _propria quæ maribus_. But Venus, who thought it would be wasting time to make {32}use ofwords, gave him such a look as put her in possession of the goldenapple. The queen of beauty, out of gratitude to Paris, who had so wellmanaged the election for her, made him a present of several slices ofthat golden pippin, and, in commemoration of that event, such sliceshave been made use of as presents at all other general elections; theyhave a sympathy like that which happens to electrical wires, let ahundred hold them in their hands, their sensations will be the same;but they differ from electricity in one essential point, which is, thatthough the touch be ever so great, it never shocks people. 

It is a general remark, that novelty is the master-passion of theEnglish; nothing goes down without it, and nothing so gross, that itwill not make palatable; the art therefore of insuring success in thistown to every adventurer, is, to hit upon something new, as the phraseis; no matter what it is, it will prove equally attracting, whether itbe a woman riding upon her head at Westminster-Bridge, or one withoutany head at all, debating upon politics and religion at WestminsterForum: but here, let not my fair countrywomen condemn me as anunmannerly satirist; we respect the taste and understanding, as much aswe admire {33}the beauty and delicacy of the sex; but surely no woman ofsense would suppose we meant to offend her, if we said she was the mostimproper person in the world to be made a captain of horse, or a memberof parliament. 

This is the head [_takes the head_] of a Female Moderator, or Presidentof the Ladies' Debating Society: she can prove to a demonstration thatman is an usurper of dignities and preferments, and that her sex has ajust right to participation of both with him: she would have physiciansin petticoats, and lawyers with high heads and French curls; then shewould have _young_ women of spirit to command our fleets and armies, and_old_ ones to govern the state:--she pathetically laments that {34}womenare considered as mere domestic animals, fit only for making puddings, pickling cucumbers, or registering cures for the measles and chincough. If this lady's wishes for reformation should ever be accomplished, wemay expect to hear that an admiral is in the histerics, that a generalhas miscarried, and that a prime minister was brought to bed the momentshe opened the budget. 

This is the head [_shews it_] of a Male Moderator, and president ofeloquence, at one of her schools in this metropolis. We have schools forfencing, schools for dancing, and schools at which we learn every thingbut those things which we {35}ought to learn: but this is a school toteach a man to be an orator; it can convert a cobler into a Demosthenes;make him thunder over porter, and lighten over gin, and qualify him tospeak on either side of the question in the house of commons, who hasnot so much as a single vote for a member of parliament. 

Here political tobacconists smoke the measures of government in cutand dry arguments; here opposition taylors prove the nation has beencabbaged; here sadlers, turned statesmen, find a curb for the ministry;here the minority veteran players argue that the scene ought to beshifted; that the king's household wants a better manager; that there isno necessity for a wardrobe-keeper; that his majesty's company are a setof very bad actors; and he humbly moves that the king should dischargehis prompter. Some time ago, the president of this society had a greatconstitutional point to decide; but not acquitting himself to thesatisfaction of the ladies, this spirited female seized the chair ofstate, and with the crack of her fan opened the business of the evening;declaring, as women had wisely abolished the vulgar custom of domesticemployment, she saw no reason why their knowledge should be confined tothe dress of a {36}head or the flounce of a petticoat; that government, in peace and war, was as much their province as the other sex, nay more;with regard to peace, very little was to be expected where women did notrule with absolute sway; in respect to war, she insisted, at least, uponan equivalent, and quoted the examples of many heroines, from the daysof Boadicea, who headed her own armies, down to Hannah Snell, who servedin the ranks; she appealed to her auditors if, notwithstanding theirplumes, that assembly had not as warlike an appearance as half theofficers of the guards, and doubted not but they'd prove to have full asmuch courage, if ever put to their shifts. "In history and politics, "continued she, "have not we a Macaulay? in books of entertainment, aGriffiths? and in dramatic works an author that, in the last new comedyof '_Which is the Man_, ' disputes the bays with the genius of Drury?Ladies, were it possible to find a man that would dispute the eloquenceof our tongues, I am sure he must readily yield to the superioreloquence of our eyes. " The gallery cried 'Bravo!' the assembly joinedin general plaudit; and Miss Susannah Cross-stich was chosen nem. Con. Perpetual president. 

{37}Before I put these heads on one side, I shall give a derivation oftheir title. Moderator is derived from _mode_, the fashion, and _rate_, a tax; and, in its compound sense, implies that Fashion advised thesetwo to lay their heads together, in order to take advantage of thepassion of the public for out-of-the-way opinions, and out-of-the-wayundertakings. This head seems to be of that order that should inculcatethe doctrine of charity, meekness, and benevolence: but, not finding hislabours in the vineyard sufficiently rewarded, according to the value hesets upon himself, is now (like many of his functions) an apostate fromgrace to faction; and, with a political pamphlet in his hand, instead ofa moral discourse, the pulpit is now become (as Hudibras expresses it)a drum ecclesiastic, and volunteers are beat up for in that place, wherenothing should be thought of but proselytes to truth. 

{38}Among the many heads that have played upon the passions of thepublic, this is one [_takes the head'_] that did cut a capital figure inthat way. This is the head of Jonas, or the card-playing conjuring Jew. He could make matadores with a snap of his fingers, command the fouraces with a whistle, and get odd tricks. But there is a great manypeople in London, besides this man, famous for playing odd tricks, andyet no conjurers neither. This man would have made a great figure in thelaw, as he is so dexterous a conveyancer. But the law is a professionthat does not want any jugglers. Nor do we need any longer to load ourheads with the weight of learning, or pore {39} for years over artsand sciences, when a few months' practice with these pasteboardpages [_takes the cards_] can make any man's fortune, without hisunderstanding a single letter of the alphabet, provided he can but slipthe cards, snap his fingers, and utter the unintelligible jargon of'presto, passa, largo, mento, cocolorum, yaw' like this Jonas. Themoment he comes into company, and takes up a pack of cards, he begins, "I am no common slight-of hand man; the common slight-of-hand men, theyturn up the things up their sleeves, and make you believe their fingersdeceive your eyes. Now, sir, you shall draw one card, two cards, threecards, four cards, five cards, half a dozen cards; you look at the cardat this side, you look at the card at that side, and I say blow theblast; the blast is blown, the card is flown, yaw, yaw: and now, sir, Iwill do it once more over again, to see whether my fingers can once moredeceive your eyes. I'll give any man ten thousand pounds if he do thelike. You look at the card of this side, you look at the card on thatside; when I say blow the blast, the blast is blown, the card isshown, yaw, yaw. " But this conjurer, at length discovering that mostpractitioners on cards, now-a-days, know as many tricks as himself, {40}and finding his slights of hand turned to little or no account, nowpractises on notes of hand by discount, and is to be found every morningat twelve in Duke's-place, up to his knuckles in dirt, and at two atthe Bank coffee-house, up to his elbows in money, where these locustsof society, over a dish of coffee and the book of interest, supply thetemporary wants of necessitous men, and are sure to out-wit 'em, hadthey even the cunning of a. . . Fox!

Here is the head of another Fashionable Foreigner [_shews the head_], avery simple machine; for he goes upon one spring, self-interest. Thishead may be compared to a _disoblezeance_; for there is but one seat init, and that is not the seat {41}of understanding: yet it is wonderfulhow much more rapidly this will move in the high road of preferment thanone of your thinking, feeling, complex, English heads, in which honour, integrity, and reason, make such a pother, that no step can be takenwithout consulting them. This head, if I may be allowed to speak withan Irish accent, was a long time boasting of his _feats_: but the last_fète_ he attempted proved his _defeat_; for, in springing too high, hegot such a fall as would disgrace an Englishman for ever, and which nonebut a foreigner's head could recover. 

Is it not a pity that foreigners should be admitted familiarly into thehouses of the great, while Englishmen, of real merit, shall be thrustfrom their doors with contempt? An instance of which happened in thefollowing picture--[_The picture brought, and he goes before it. _]

{42}Here is an Opera Dancer, or Singer, maintained by us in all theluxury of extravagance; and in the back ground a maimed soldier andsailor, who were asking alms, and thrown down by the insolence of theopera singer's chairman; yet the sailor lost his arm with the gallantCaptain Pierson, and the soldier left his leg on the plains of Minden. Instead of paying a guinea to see a man stand on one leg--would it notbe better employed were it given to a man who had but one leg to standon? But, while these dear creatures condescend to come over here, tosing to us for {43}the trifling sum of fifteen hundred or two thousandguineas yearly, in return for such their condescension, we cannot do toomuch for them, and that is the reason why we do so little for our ownpeople. This is the way we reward those who only bring folly into thecountry, and the other is the way, and the only way, with which wereward our deliverers. [_The picture taken off. _] Among the number ofexotics, calculated for this evening's entertainment, the head of anopera composer, or burletta projector, should have been exhibited, could I have been lucky enough to hit upon any droll visage for thatexhibition: but, after many experiments, I was convinced that no headfor that representation could be so truly ridiculous as my own, if thisassembly do me the honour to accept it. [_Takes up the music-frame andbook. _]

Suppose me, for once, a burletta projector, Who attempts a mock musicalscrap of a lecture. Suppose this thing a harpsichord or a spinnet; Wemust suppose so, else there's nothing in it; And thus I begin, tho' astranger to graces. Those deficiencies must be supplied by grimaces, Andthe want of wit made up by making of faces. 

{44}[_Changes wigs and sits down. _] Come, Carro, come, attend affetuoso, English be dumb, your language is but so so;

 Adagio is piano, allegro must be forte, Go wash my neck and sleeves, because this shirt is dirty Mon charmant, prenez guarda, Mind what your signior begs, Ven you wash, don't scrub so harda, You may rub my shirt to rags. Vile you make the water hotter-- Uno solo I compose. Put in the pot the nice sheep's trotter, And de little petty toes; De petty toes are little feet, De little feet not big, Great feet belong to de grunting hog, De petty toes to de little pig. Come, daughter dear, carissima anima mea, Go boil the kittle, make me some green tea a. Ma bella dolce sogno, Vid de tea, cream, and sugar bono, And a little slice Of bread and butter nice. A bravo bread, and butter Bravissimo-----------imo. 

END OF PART II. 

PART III. 

[_Discovers two ladies on the table. _] {45}In spite of all the sneers, prints, and paragraphs, that have been published to render the ladies'headdresses ridiculous, sure, when fancy prompts a fine woman to leadthe fashion, how can any man be so Hottentotish as to find fault withit? I hope here to be acquitted from any design of rendering the ladiesridiculous; all I aim at is to amuse. Here is a rich dressed ladywithout elegance. --Here is an elegant dressed lady without riches;for riches can no more give grace than they can beget understanding. Amultiplicity of ornaments may load the wearer, but can neverdistinguish the gentlewoman. [_Gives off the delicate lady. _] This is arepresentation of those misled ladies whose families having gainedgreat fortunes by trade, begin to be ashamed of the industry of theirancestors, {46}and turn up their nose at every thing mechanical, andcall it _wulgar_. They are continually thrusting themselves among thenobility, to have it said they keep quality company, and for that emptyqualification expose themselves to all the tortures of ill treatment;because it is a frolic for persons of rank to mortify such theirimitators. This is vanity without honour, and dignity at second-hand, and shews that ladies may so far entangle the line of beauty, by nothaving it properly unwound for them, till they are lost in a labyrinthof fashionable intricacies. [_Gives the head off. Takes the head ofCleopatra. _]

Here is a real antique; this is the head of that famous demirep ofantiquity, called Cleopatra, {47}This is the way the ladies of antiquityused to dress their heads in a morning. [_Gives the head off. _] And thisis the way the ladies at present dress their heads in a morning. [_Takesthe head. _] A lady in this dress seems hooded like a hawk, with ablister on each cheek for the tooth-ach. One would imagine this fashionhad been invented by some surly duenna, or ill-natured guardian, onpurpose to prevent ladies turning to one side or the other; and that maybe the reason why now every young lady chooses to look forward. As theworld is round, every thing turns round along with it; no wonder thereshould be such revolutions in ladies' head-dresses. This was in fashiontwo or three years past; this is the fashion of last year [_takes a headup_]; and this the morning headdress [_takes the head_] of this present_anno domini_. These are the winkers, and these are the blinkers. But, as the foibles of the ladies ought to be treated with the utmostdelicacy, all we can say of these three heads, thus hoodwinked, is, thatthey are emblems of the three graces, who, thus muffled, have a mind toplay at blindman's buff together. [_Gives the heads off. _]

{48}We shall now exhibit the head of An Old Maid. [_Takes the head. _]This is called antiquated virginity; it is a period when elderlyunmarried ladies are supposed to be bearing apes about inleading-strings, as a punishment, because, when those elderly unmarriedladies were young and beautiful, they made monkies of mankind. Old maidsare supposed to be ill-natured and crabbed, as wine kept too long on thelees will turn to vinegar. 

{49}Not to be partial to either sex [_takes the head up_], as acompanion to the Old Maid, here is the head of An Old Bachelor. Theseold bachelors are mere bullies; they are perpetually abusing matrimony, without ever daring to accept of the challenge. When they are in companythey are ever exclaiming against hen-pecked husbands, saying, if theywere married, their wives should never go any where without asking theirlords and masters' leave; and if they were married, the children shouldnever cry, nor the servants commit a fault: they'd set the house torights; they would do every thing. But the lion-like talkers abroadare mere baa-lambs at home, being generally dupes and slaves to sometermagant mistress, against whose imperiousness they dare not open theirlips, {50}but are frightened even if she frowns. Old bachelors, in this, resemble your pretenders to atheism, who make a mock in public ofwhat in private they tremble at and fall down to. When they becomesuperannuated, they set up for suitors, they ogle through spectacles, and sing love songs to ladies with catarrhs by way of symphonies, and they address a young lady with, "Come, my dear, I'll put on myspectacles and pin your handkerchief for you; I'll sing you a love song;'How can you, lovely Nancy!'" &c. [_Laughs aloud. _] How droll to hearthe dotards aping youth, And talk of love's delights without a tooth![_Gives the head off. _]

{51}It is something odd that ladies shall have their charms all abroadin this manner [_takes the head_], and the very next moment this shallcome souse over their _heads_, like an extinguisher. [_Pulls the calashover. _] This is a hood in high taste at the upper end of the town; andthis [_takes the head_] a hood in high taste at the lower end of thetown. Not more different are these two heads in their dresses thanthey are in their manner of conversation: this makes use of a delicatedialect, it being thought polite pronunciation to say instead of cannot, _ca'ant_; must not _ma'ant_; shall not, _sha'ant_, This clippingof letters would be extremely detrimental to the current coin ofconversation, did not these good dames make ample amends by addingsupernumerary syllables when they talk of _break-fastes_, and_toastesses_, and running their heads against the postasses to avoidthe wild _beastesses_. These female orators, brought up at the barof Billingsgate, have a peculiar way of expressing themselves, which, however indelicate it may seem to more civilized ears, is exactlyconformable to the way of ancient oratory. The difference betweenancient and modern oratory consists in saying something or nothing tothe purpose. Some people talk without saying any thing; some people{52}don't care what they say; some married men would be glad to havenothing to say to their wives; and some husbands would be full as gladif their wives had not any thing to say to them. [_ Gives the headoff. _] Ancient oratory is the gift of just persuasion; modern oratorythe knack of putting words, not things, together; for speech-makers noware estimated, not by the merit, but by the length of their harangues;they are minuted as we do galloping horses, and their goodness ratedaccording as they hold out against time. For example, a gentleman latelycoming into a coffee-house, and expressing himself highly pleased withsome debates which he had just then heard, one of his acquaintancebegged the favour that he would tell the company what the debates wereabout. 

"About, Sir!--Yes, Sir. --About!--what were they debating about? Why theywere about five hours long. " "But what did they say, Sir?" "What didthey say, Sir? Why one man said every thing; he was up two hours, threequarters, nineteen seconds, and five eighths, by my watch, which isthe best stop-watch in England; so, if I don't know what he said, whoshould? for I had my eye upon my watch all the time he was speaking. ""Which side was he of?" "Why {53}he was of my side, I stood close by himall the time. "

Here are the busts of two ancient laughing and crying Philosophers, or orators. [_Takes the two heads up. _] These in their life-time wereheads, of two powerful factions, called the Groaners and the Grinners. _(Holds one head in each hand. )_ This Don Dismal's faction, is arepresentation of that discontented part of mankind who are alwaysrailing at the times, and the world, and the people of the world: Thisis a good-natured fellow, that made the best of every thing: and thisDon Dismal would attack his brother--"Oh, brother! brother! brother!what will this world come to?" "The same place it set out from this daytwelve-month. " "When will the nation's debt be paid {54}off?" "Willyou pass your word for it?" "These are very slippery times--veryslippery times. " "They are always so in frosty weather. " "What's becomeof our liberty?--Where shall we find liberty?" "In Ireland, to besure. " "I can't bear to see such times. " "Shut your eyes then. " [_Gives the heads off. _]

It may seem strange to those spectators [_takes the head_] who areunacquainted with the reasons that induce ladies to appear in suchcaricatures, how that delicate sex can walk under the weight of suchenormous head-coverings; but what will not English hearts endure for thegood of their country? And it's all for the good of their country theladies wear such appearances; for, while mankind are such enemies to OldEngland as to run wool to France, our ladies, by making use of wool aspart of their head-dresses [_lets down the tail and takes out the wool_], keep it at home, and encourage the woollen manufactory. [_Takes off thehead. _]

But, as all our fashions descend to our inferiors, a servant maid, inthe Peak of Derbyshire, having purchased an old tête from a puppet-showwoman, and being at a loss for some of this wool to stuff out the curlswith, fancied a whisp of hay might {55}do. [_Takes the head. _] Hereis the servant maid, with her new-purchased finery; and here is hernew-fashioned stuffing. But, before she had finished at her garretdressing-table, a ring at the door called her down stairs to receive aletter from the postboy; turning back to go into the house again, thepostboy's horse, being hungry, laid hold of the head-dress by way offorage. Never may the fair sex meet with a worse misfortune; but may theladies, always hereafter, preserve their heads in good order. Amen. 

Horace, in describing a fine woman, makes use of two Latin words, which are, _simplex munditiis_. Now these two words cannot be properlytranslated; {56}their best interpretation is that of a young FemaleQuaker. [_Takes the head. _] Such is the effect of native neatness. Here is no bundle of hair to set her off, no jewels to adorn her, norartificial complexion. Yet there is a certain odium which satire hasdared to charge our English ladies with, which is, plastering thefeatures with whitewash, or rubbing rouge or red upon their faces. [_Gives the head off. _] Women of the town may lay on red, because, likepirates, the dexterity of their profession consists in their engagingunder false colours; but, for the delicate, the inculpable part of thesex, to vermilion their faces, seems as if ladies would fish for loversas men bait for mackerel, by hanging something red upon the hook; orthat they imagined men to be of the bull or turkey-cock kind, that wouldfly at any thing scarlet. [_Takes the head off. _] But such practitionersshould remember that their faces are the works of their Creator. --Ifbad, how dare they mend it? If good, why mend it? Are they ashamed ofhis work, and proud of their own? If any such there are, let 'em lay bythe art, and blush not to appear that which he blushes not to have madethem. If any lady should be offended with the lecturer's daring to takesuch liberties with her sex, by {57}way of atonement for that part ofmy behaviour which may appear culpable, I humbly beg leave to offer anostrum, or recipe, to preserve the ladies' faces in perpetual bloom, and defend beauty from all assaults of time; and I dare venture toaffirm, not all the paints, pomatums, or washes, can be of so muchservice to make the ladies look lovely as the application of this. [_Shews the girdle of good temper. _]

Let but the ladies wear this noble order, and they never will be angrywith me; this is the grand secret of attraction; this is the Girdleop Venus, which Juno borrowed to make herself appear {58}lovely to herhusband Jupiter, and what is here humbly recommended to all marriedfolks of every denomination; and to them I appeal, whether husband orwife, wife or husband, do not alternately wish each other would wearthis girdle? But here lies the mistake; while the husband _begs_ hiswife, the wife _insists_ upon the husband's putting it on; in thecontention the girdle drops down between them, and neither of them willcondescend to stoop first to take it up. [_Lays down the girdle. _]. Bearand forbear, give and forgive, are the four chariot-wheels that carryLove to Heaven: Peace, Lowliness, Fervency, and Taste, are the fourradiant horses that draw it. Many people have been all their life-timemaking this chariot, without ever being able to put one wheel to it. Their horses have most of them got the springhalt, and that is thereason why married people now a-days walk a-foot to the Elysian fields. Many a couple, who live in splendor, think they keep the only carriagethat can convey them to happiness; but their vehicle is too often thepostcoach of ruin; the horses, that draw it are Vanity, Insolence, Luxury, and Credit; the footmen who ride behind it are Pride, Lust, Tyranny, and Oppression; the servants out of livery, that wait at table, {59}are Folly and Wantonness; them Sickness and Death take away. Wereladies once to see themselves in an ill temper, I question if ever againthey would choose to appear in such a character. 

Here is a Lady [_takes up the picture_] in her true tranquil state ofmind, in that amiableness of disposition which makes foreigners declarethat an English lady, when she chooses to be in temper, and choosesto be herself, is the most lovely figure in the universe; and on thereverse of this medallion is the same lady when she chooses _not_ to bein temper, and _not_ to be herself. [_Turns the picture. _] This face isput on when she is disappointed of her masquerade habit, when she haslost a _sans prendre_, when her lap-dog's foot is trod {60}upon, or whenher husband has dared to contradict her. Some married ladies may havegreat cause of complaint against their husbands' irregularities; but isthis a face to make those husbands better? Surely no! It is only by suchlooks as these [_turns the picture_] they are to be won: and may theladies hereafter only wear such looks, and may this never more be known[_turns the picture_] only as a picture taken out of Æsop's Fables. [_Gives off the picture. _]

May each married lady preserve her good man, And young ones get goodones as fast as they can. 

It is very remarkable there should be such a plentiful harvest ofcourtship before marriage, and generally such a famine afterwards. Courtship is a fine bowling-green turf, all galloping round andsweet-hearting, a sunshine holiday in summer time: but when once throughmatrimony's turnpike, the weather becomes wintry, and some husbandsare seized with a cold aguish fit, to which the faculty have given thisname--[_Shews the girdle of indifference. _] Courtship is matrimony'srunning footman, but seldom stays to see the stocking thrown; it istoo often carried away by the two grand preservatives of matrimonial{61}friendship, delicacy and gratitude. There is also another distempervery mortal to the honeymoon; 'tis what the ladies sometimes are seizedwith, and the college of physicians call it by this title--[_Shews thegirdle of the sullens. _]

This distemper generally arises from some ill-conditioned speech, withwhich the lady has been hurt; who then, leaning on her elbow upon thearm-chair, her cheek resting upon the back of her hand, her eyes fixedearnestly upon the fire, her feet beating tattoo time: the husband inthe mean while biting his lips, pulling down his ruffles, stampingabout the room, and looking at his lady {62}like the devil: at last heabruptly demands of her her, "What's the matter with you, madam?"

The lady mildly replies, "Nothing. "

"What is it you mean, madam?"

"Nothing. "

"What would you make me, madam?"

"Nothing. "

"What is it I have done to you, madam?"

"O--h--nothing. " And this quarrel arose as they sat at breakfast. Thelady very innocently observed, she believed the tea was made with Thameswater. The husband, in mere contradiction, insisted upon it that thetea-kettle was filled out of the New River. 

{63}From a scene of matrimonial tumult here is one of matrimonialtranquillity. [_Matrimonial picture brought on, and you go forward. _]Here is an after-dinner wedlock _tête-à-tête_, a mere matrimonial_vis-à-vis_; the husband in a yawning state of dissipation, and the ladyin almost the same drowsy attitude, called, A nothing-to-doishness. Ifan unexpected visitor should happen to break in upon their solitude, the lady, in her apology, declares that "she is horribly chagrined, andmost immensely out of countenance, to be caught in such a deshabille:but, upon honour, she did not mind {64}how her clothes were huddled on, not expecting any company, there being nobody at home but her husband. "

The gentleman, he shakes his guest by the hand, and says, "I amheartily glad to see you, Jack; I don't know how it was, I was almostasleep; for, as there was nobody at home but my wife, I did not knowwhat to do with myself. "

END OF PART III. 

PART IV. 

{65}We shall now consider the law, as our laws are very considerable, both in bulk and number, according as the statutes declare;_considerandi, considerando, considerandum_; and are not to be meddledwith by those that don't understand 'em. Law always expressing itselfwith true grammatical precision, never confounding moods, cases, orgenders, except indeed when a _woman_ happens accidentally to be slain, then the verdict is always brought in _man_-slaughter. The essence ofthe law is altercation; for the law can altercate, fulminate, deprecate, irritate, and go on at any rate. Now the quintessence of the law has, according to its name, five parts. The first is the _beginning_, or_incipiendum_; the second the _uncertainty_, or _dubitandum_; thethird _delay_, or _puzzliendum_; fourthly _replication_ without _endum_;and, fifthly, _monstrum et horrendum_. 

{66}All which are exemplified in the following cases, Daniel againstDishclout. --Daniel was groom in the same family wherein Dishclout wascookmaid; and Daniel, returning home one day fuddled, he stooped down totake a sop out of the dripping-pan, which spoiled his clothes, and hewas advised to bring his action against the cookmaid; the pleadings ofwhich were as follow. The first person who spoke was Mr. SerjeantSnuffle. He began, saying, "Since I have the honour to be pitched uponto open this cause to your Lordship, I shall not impertinently presumeto take up any of your Lordship's time by a round-about circumlocutorymanner of speaking or talking, quite foreign to the purpose, and not anyways relating to the matter in hand. I shall, I will, I design to shewwhat damages my client has sustained hereupon, whereupon, and thereupon. Now, my Lord, my client, being a servant in the same family withDishclout, and not being at board wages, imagined he had a right to thefee-simple of the dripping-pan, therefore he made an attachment on thesop with his right-hand, which the defendant replevied with her left, tripped us up, and tumbled us into the dripping-pan. Now, in Broughton'sReports, Slack _versus_ Small wood, it is said that _primus {67}strocussine jocus, absolutus est provokus_. Now who gave the _primus strocus?_who gave the first offence? Why, the cook; she brought the driping-panthere; for, my Lord, though we will allow, if we had not been there, wecould not have been thrown down there; yet, my Lord, if the dripping-panhad not been there, for us to have tumbled down into, we could not havetumbled into the dripping-pan. " The next counsel on the same side beganwith, "My Lord, he who makes use of many words to no purpose has notmuch to say for himself, therefore I shall come to the point at once; atonce and immediately I shall come to the point. My client was in liquor:the liquor in him having served an ejectment upon his understanding, common sense was nonsuited, and he was a man beside himself, as Dr. Biblibus declares, in his Dissertation upon Bumpers, in the 139th foliovolume of the Abridgment of the Statutes, page 1286, where he says, thata drunken man is _homo duplicans_, or a double man; not only because hesees things double, but also because he is not as he should be, _profecto ipse_ he; but is as he should not be, _defecto tipse_ he. "

{68}The counsel on the other side rose up gracefully, playing with hisruffles prettily, and tossing the ties of his wig about emphatically. He began with, "My Lord, and you, gentlemen of the jury, I humbly doconceive I have the authority to declare that I am counsel in this casefor the defendant; therefore, my Lord, I shall not flourish away inwords; words are no more than filligree work. Some people may think theman embellishment; but to me it is a matter of astonishment how any onecan be so impertinent to the detriment of all rudiment. But, my Lord, this is not to be looked at through the medium of right and wrong; forthe law knows no medium, and {69}right and wrong are but its shadows. Now, in the first place, they have called a kitchen my client'spremises. Now a kitchen is nobody's premises; a kitchen is not awarehouse, nor a wash-house, a brew-house, nor a bake-house, aninn-house, nor an out-house, nor a dwelling-house; no, my Lord, 'tisabsolutely and _bona fide_ neither more nor less than a kitchen, or, asthe law more classically expresses, a kitchen is, _camera necessaria prousus cookare; cum saucepannis, stewpannis, scullero, dressero, coalholo, stovis, smoak-jacko, pro roastandum, boilandum, fryandum, et plum-puddingmixandum, pro turtle soupos, calve's-head-hashibus, cum calipee etcalepashibus_. 

"But we shall not avail ourselves of an _alibi_, but admit of theexistence of a cook-maid. Now my Lord, we shall take it upon a newground, and beg a new trial; for, as they have curtailed our name fromplain Mary into Moll, I hope the court will not allow of this; for, ifthey were to allow of mistakes, what would the law do? for, when thelaw don't find mistakes, it is the business of the law to make them. "Therefore the court allowed them the liberty of a new trial; for the lawis our liberty, and it is happy for us we have the liberty to go to law. 

{70}By all the laws of laughing, every man is at liberty to play thefool with himself; but some people, fearful it would take from theirconsequence, choose to do it by proxy: hence comes the appearance ofkeeping fools in great families. [_Takes the head. _] Thus are theydressed, and shew, by this party-coloured garment, they are related toall the wise families in the kingdom. 

This is a Fool's Cap; 'tis put upon Nobody's head. Nobody's face iswithout features, because we could not put Anybody's face upon Nobody'shead. This is the head of Somebody. [_Takes the head. _] It has twofaces, for Somebody is supposed to carry two faces. One of thesefaces is handsome, the other rather ill-favoured. The handsome faceis exhibited as a hint to that part {71}of mankind who are alwayswhispering among their acquaintance, how well they are with Somebody, and that Somebody is a very fine woman. One of those boasters of beauty, one night at a tavern, relating his amazing amours, the toast-mastercalled him to order, and a gentleman in a frolic, instead of namingany living lady for his toast, gave the Greek name of the tragic museMelpomene; upon which the boaster of beauty, the moment he heard theword Melpomene, addresses the toast-master, "Oh! ho! Mr. Toastmaster, you are going a round of demireps. Ay, ay, Moll Pomene, I remember hervery well; she was a very fine girl, and so was her sister, Bet Po-mene;I had 'em both at a certain house, you know where?" Can we help smilingat the partiality of the present times? that a man should be transportedif he snares a hare, or nets a partridge, and yet there is no punishmentfor those whisperers away of ladies' reputations? But ill tongues wouldfall hurtless were there no believers to give them credit; as robberscould not continue to pilfer were there no receivers of stolea goods. 

{72}Here is the head [_takes it_] of Anybody, with his eyes closed, hismouth shut, and his ears stopped; and this is exhibited as an emblemof wisdom; and anybody may become wise, if they will not spy into thefaults of others, tell tales of others, nor listen to the tales ofothers, but mind their own business, and be satisfied. Here is the head[_takes it_] of Everybody. [_ Turns the head round. _] This is to showhow people dread popular clamour, or what all the world will say, orwhat every body will say. Nay, there is not a poor country wench, when her young master the 'squire attempts to delude her, but willimmediately reply to him, "Lord!--Your honour!--What will the worldsay?" And this, _what will the {73}world say_, is what everybody isanxious after, although it is hardly worth anybody's while to troubletheir heads with the world's sayings. 

These four heads of Nobody, Everybody, Somebody, and Anybody, form afifth head, called a Busybody. The Busybody is always anxious aftersomething about Somebody. He'll keep company with Anybody to find outEverybody's business; and is only at a loss when this head stops hispursuit, and Nobody will give him an answer. It is from these four headsthe fib of each day is fabricated. Suspicion begets the morning whisper, the gossip Report circulates it as a secret, wide-mouthed Wonder givesCredulity credit for it, and Self-interest authenticates that, asAnybody may be set to work by Somebody, Everybody's alarmed at it, and, at last, there is Nobody knows any thing at all of the matter. Fromthese four heads people purchase lottery-tickets, although calculationdemonstrates the odds are so much against them; but Hope flatters them, Fancy makes them believe, and Expectation observes, that the twentythousand pounds prizes must come to Somebody [_gives the head off_];and, as Anybody may have them [_gives the head off_], and Nobody{74}knows who [_gives the head off_], Everybody buys lottery-tickets. [_Gives the head off. _]

Most difficult it is for any single speaker long to preserve theattention of his auditors: nay, he could not continue speaking, conscious of that difficulty, did he not depend greatly on the humanityof his hearers. Yet it is not flattery prompts the lecturer to thisaddress; for, to shew in how odious a light he holds flattery, he hereexposes the head of flattery. [_Takes the head. _]

This being, called Flattery, was begat upon Poverty, by Wit; and thatis the reason why poor {75}wits are always the greatest flatterers. Theancients had several days they called lucky and unlucky ones; theywere marked as white and black days. Thus is the face of Flatterydistinguished; to the lucky she shews her white, or shining profile;to the unlucky she is always in eclipse: but, on the least approachof calamity, immediately Flattery changes into reproach. [_Opens thehead. _] How easy the transition is from flattery into reproach; themoral of which is, that it is a reproach to our understandings tosuffer flattery. But some people are so fond of that incense, that theygreedily accept it, though they despise the hand that offers it, withoutconsidering the receiver is as bad as the thief. As every head here isintended to convey some moral, the moral of this head is as follows:This head was the occasion of the first duel that ever was fought, itthen standing on a pillar, in the centre, where four roads met. Twoknights-errant, one from the north, and one from the south, arrived atthe same instant at the pillar whereon this head was placed: one of theknights-errant, who only saw this side of the head, called out, "Itis a shame to trust a silver head by the road side. " "A silver head!"replied the knight, who only saw this side of the head, "it is a black{76}head. " Flat contradiction produced fatal demonstration; their swordsflew out, and they hacked and hewed one another so long, that, at last, fainting with loss of blood, they fell on the ground; then, liftingup their eyes, they discovered their mistake concerning this image. Avenerable hermit coming by, bound up their wounds, placed them again onhorseback, and gave them this piece of advice, That they never hereaftershould engage in any parties, or take part in any dispute, withouthaving previously examined both sides of the question. 

We shall now conclude this part of the lecture with four nationalcharacters. 

{77}Here is the head of a Frenchman [_shews the head_], all levity andlightness, singing and capering from morning till night, as if he lookedupon life to be but a long dance, and liberty and law but a jig. YetMonsieur talks in high strains of the law, though he lives in a countrythat knows no law but the caprice of an absolute monarch. Has heproperty? an edict from the Grand Monarch can take it, and the slaveis satisfied. Pursue him to the Bastile, or the dismal dungeon in thecountry to which a _lettre de cachet_ conveys him, and buries the wretchfor life: there see him in all his misery; ask him "What is the cause?"

{78}"_Je ne sçai pas_, it is de will of de Grand Monarch. " Give him a_soupe maigre_, a little sallad, and a hind quarter of a frog, and he'sin spirits. --"_Fal, lai, lai, vive le roy, vive la bagatelle_. " He isnow the declared enemy of Great Britain: ask him, "Why?--has Englanddone your country an injury?" "Oh no. " "What then is your cause ofquarrel?" "England, sir, not give de liberty to de subject. She willhave de tax upon de tea; but, by gar, sir, de Grand Monarch have sendout de fleet and de army to chastise de English; and, ven de America arefree, de Grand Monarch he tax de American himself. " "But, Monsieur, is France able to cope with England on her own element, the sea?" "_Oh!pourquois non?_" "Why not?"

{79}Here is the head of a British Tar [_shews the head_]; and, whileEngland can man her navy with thousands of these spirits, Monsieur'sthreats are in vain. Here is a man who despises danger, wounds, and death; he fights with the spirit of a lion, and, as if (like asalamander) his element was fire, gets fresh courage as the action growshotter; he knows no disgrace like striking to the French flag; no rewardfor past services so ample as a wooden leg; and no retreat so honourableas Greenwich hospital. Contrast his behaviour with that of a Frenchsailor, who must have a drawn sword over his head to make him stand tohis gun, who runs trembling to the priest for an absolution--"_Ah, monbon pere, avez pitié de moi!_" when he

{80}should look death in the face like a man. This brave tar saw thegallant Farmer seated on his anchor, his ship in a blaze, his eye fixedon the wide expanse of the waters round him, scorning to shrink, waitingwith the calm firmness of a hero for the moment when he was to diegloriously in the service of his country. 

Here is the head of a Spaniard, [_Shews the head. _] But first I hadbetter remove the Frenchman, for fear of a quarrel between the twoallies. Now he has no dislike to England; he wishes, as Spain ever did, for peace with England, and war with all the world; he remembers thelatter end {81}of the last war, the British fleets thundering in theirports, and the whole nation abhorring the French for the calamitiesbrought upon them by an intriguing Italian cabinet. He was takenprisoner by the gallant Sir George Rodney; and the only favour he asked, upon coming to England, was not to be imprisoned with a Frenchman, detesting all connexion with that superficial, dancing, treacherouspeople. The Frenchman, vain and sanguine to the last, encourages hisally to persevere. _Attendre, attendre, mon cher ami_. --"Wait, my goodfriend, we shall get the game yet. " "Certainly, " replies the grave Don, "for we get all the rubbers. " But, whilst these two are mourning overtheir losses by the war, here comes another to complete the processionof madness and folly. 

{82}This is the head [_shews it_] of Mynheer Van Neverfelt Large BreechoLove Cabbecho Dutch Doggero, a great merchant at Rotterdam; who hadamassed an immense fortune by supplying the enemies of Great Britainwith hemp, and who, if he had his deserts, should die as he has livedby it. He considers treaties as mere court promises; and these, in thevulgar acceptation of a pie-crust, whenever they cover any advantage, itis but breaking them, and down with friendship and honour in a bite. He looks upon interest to be the true law of nature, and principal aSinking Fund, in which no Dutchman should be concerned. He looks uponmoney to be the greatest good upon earth, and a pickled herring {83}thegreatest dainty. If you would ask him what wisdom is, he'll answeryou, Stock. If you ask him what benevolence is, he'll reply, Stock: andshould you inquire who made him, he would say, Stock; for Stock is theonly deity he bows down to. If you would judge of his wit, his wholeStock lies in a pipe of tobacco; and, if you would judge of hisconversation, a bull and a bear are his Stock companions. His conductto all men and all nations is most strikingly typified by Hogarth's Paulbefore Felix, in true Dutch gusto, where the guardian angel, Conscience, has fallen asleep, which Avarice, in the shape of the devil, takingadvantage of, saws asunder the legs of the stool upon which the apostleis exhibited standing. But the vengeance of Britain's insulted geniushas overtaken him, in the east and in the west, and Holland has receivedblows, for her breach of compacts, she will remember as long as herdykes defend her from the encroachments of the ocean. 

When men have eminently distinguished themselves in arts or arms, theircharacters should be held up to the public with every mark of honour, toinspire the young candidate for fame with a generous emulation. Thereis a noble enthusiasm in great minds, which not only inclines them to{84}behold illustrious actions with wonder and delight, but kindles alsoa desire of attaining the same degree of excellence. The Romans, whowell knew this principle in human nature, decreed triumphs to theirgenerals, erected obelisks and statues in commemoration of theirvictories; and to this day the cabinet of the antiquarian preservesrecords of the victories of a Germanicus, the generosity of a Titus, orthe peaceful virtues of an Antonius. Why then should not England adoptthe practice of the Romans, a people who reached the highest pinnacle ofmilitary glory? It is true that some of our great generals have marblemonuments in Westminster Abbey. But why should not the living enjoythe full inheritance of their laurels? If they deserve to have theirvictories proclaimed to the world by the voice of Fame, let it be whenmen are sensible to the sweetness of her trumpet, for she will thensound like an angel in their ears. Here is the head of a British Hero; atitle seldom conferred, and as seldom merited, till the ardent valour ofthe youthful warrior is ripened into the wisdom and cool intrepidity ofthe veteran. He entered the service with the principles of a Soldierand a patriot, the love of fame, and the love of his country. His mindactive and {85}vigorous, burning with the thirst of honour, flew toposts of danger with a rapidity which gave tenfold value to his militaryexertions, and rendered his onsets terrible as resistless. No expeditionappeared to him either difficult or impracticable that was to beundertaken for the good of the cause he had embarked in. Fortune tooseemed enamoured of his valour, for she preserved his life in manyactions; and, though he cannot stretch forth an arm without shewingan honourable testimony of the dangers to which he was exposed, he hasstill a hand left to wield a sword for the service of his country. As heis yet in the prime of life, there is nothing too great to be expectedfrom him. He resembles the immortal Wolfe in his fire and fame. Andoh, for the good of England, that Wolfe, in his fortunes, had resembledTableton!

END OF PART IV. 

PART V. 

{86}We shall now return to the law, for our laws are full of returns, and we we shall shew a compendium of law [_takes the wig_]; parts ofpractice in the twist of the tail. --The depth of a full bottom denotesthe length of a chancery suit, and the black coif behind, like ablistering plaister, seems to shew us that law is a great irritator, andonly to be used in cases of necessity. 

We shall now beg leave to change the fashion of the head-dress, for, like a poor periwig-maker, I am obliged to mount several patterns on thesame block. 

[_Puts on the wig, and takes the nosegay. _]

{87}Law is law, law is law, and as in such and so forth, and hereby, andaforesaid, provided always, nevertheless, notwithstanding. Law is like acountry dance, people are led up and down in it till they are tired. Lawis like a book of surgery, there are a great many terrible cases in it. It is also like physic, they that take least of it are best off. Law islike a homely gentlewoman, very well to follow. Law is like a scoldingwife, very bad when it follows us. Law is like a new fashion, people arebewitched to get into it; it is also like bad weather, most people areglad when they get out of it. 

{88}We shall now mention a cause, called "Bullum _versus_ Boatum:" itwas a cause that came before me. The cause was as follows. 

There were two farmers; farmer A and farmer B. Farmer A was seized orpossessed of a bull: farmer B was possessed of a ferry-boat. Now theowner of the ferry-boat, having made his boat fast to a post on shore, with a piece of hay, twisted rope-fashion, or, as we say, _vulgovocato_, a hay-band. 

After he had made his boat fast to a post on shore, as it was verynatural for a hungry man to do, he went up town to dinner; farmer A'sbull, as it was very natural for a hungry bull to do, came down town tolook for a dinner; and, observing, discovering, seeing, and spying-out, some turnips in the bottom of the ferry-boat, the bull scrambled intothe ferry-boat: he ate up the turnips, and, to make an end of his meal, fell to work upon the hay-band: the boat, being eaten from its moorings, floated down the river, with the bull in it: it struck against a rock;beat a hole in the bottom of the boat, and tossed the bull overboard;whereupon the owner of the bull brought his action against the boat, for running away with the bull. The owner of the boat brought his actionagainst the bull for running away with the {89} boat. And thus notice oftrial was given, Bullum _versus_ Boatum, Boatum _versus_ Bullum. 

Now the Counsel for the bull began with saying, "My Lord, and yougentlemen of the jury, we are counsel in this cause for the bull. We areindicted for running away with the boat. Now, my Lord, we have heardof running horses, but never of running bulls before. Now, my Lord, thebull could no more run away with the boat than a man in a coach may besaid to run away with the horses; therefore, my Lord, how can we punishwhat is not punishable? How can we eat what is not eatable? Or, how canwe drink what is not drinkable? Or, as the law says, how can we think onwhat is not thinkable? Therefore, my {90}Lord, as we are counsel in thiscause for the bull, if the jury should bring the bull in guilty, thejury would be guilty of a bull. "

The counsel for the boat observed that the bull should be nonsuited, because, in his declaration, he had not specified what colour he was of;for thus wisely, and thus learnedly, spoke the counsel. --"My Lord, ifthe bull was of no colour, he must be of some colour; and, if he wasnot of any colour, what colour could the bull be of?" I over-ruled thismotion myself, by observing the bull was a white bull, and that white isno colour: besides, as I told my brethren, they should not trouble theirheads to talk of colour in the law, for the law can colour any thing. This cause being afterwards left to a reference, upon the award bothbull and boat were acquitted, it being proved that the tide of the rivercarried them both away; upon which I gave it as my opinion, that, as thetide of the river carried both bull and boat away, both bull and boathad a good action against the water-bailiff. 

My opinion being taken, an action was issued, and, upon the traverse, this point of law arose, How, wherefore, and whether, why, when, andwhat, whatsoever, whereas, and whereby, as the {91}boat was not a_compos mentis_ evidence, how could an oath be administered? That pointwas soon settled by Boatum's attorney declaring that, for his client, hewould swear any thing. 

The water-bailiff's charter was then read, taken out of the originalrecord in true law Latin; which set forth, in their declaration, thatthey were carried away either by the tide of flood or the tide of ebb. The charter of the water-bailiff was as follows. "_Aquæ bailiffi estmagistrates in choisi, sapor omnibus fishibus qui habuerunt finnos etscalos, claws, shells, et talos, qui swimmare in freshibus, vel saltibusreveris lakos, pondis, canalibus et well-boats, sive oysteri, prawni, whitini, shrimpi, turbutus solus_;" that is, not turbots alone, butturbots and soals both together. But now comes the nicety of the law;the law is as nice as a new-laid egg, and not to be understood byaddle-headed people. Bullum and Boatum mentioned both ebb and flood toavoid quibbling; but, it being proved that they were carried awayneither by the tide of flood, nor by the tide of ebb, but exactly uponthe top of high water, they were nonsuited; but, such was the lenity ofthe court, upon their paying all costs, they were allowed to beginagain, _de novo_. 

{92}This is one of those many thousand Heads [_takes the head_] whoswarm in and about London, whose times and minds are divided betweenthe affairs of state and the affairs of a kitchen. He was anxious aftervenison and politics; he believed every cook to be a great genius; andto know how to dress a turtle comprehended all the arts and sciencestogether. He was always hunting after newspapers, to read about battles;and imagined soldiers and sailors were only made to be knock'd on thehead, that he might read an account of it in the papers. He read everypolitical pamphlet that was published on both sides of the question, andwas always on his side whom he read last. 

{93}And then he'd come home in a good or ill temper and call for hisnight-cap, and pipes and tobacco, and send for some neighbours to sitwith him, and talk politics together. [_Puts on a cap, and takes thepipes and sits down. _]

"How do you do, Mr. Costive? Sit down, sit down. Ay, these times arehard times; I can no more relish these times than I can a haunch ofvenison without sweet sauce to it; but, if you remember, I told you weshould have warm work of it when the cook threw down the Kian pepper. Ay, ay; I think I know a thing or two; I think I do, that's all. But, Lord, what signifies what one knows? they don't mind me! You know I{94}mentioned at our club the disturbances in America, and one of thecompany took me up, and said, 'What signifies America, when we are allin a merry cue?' So they all fell a laughing. Now there's Commons madeLords, and there's Lords made the Lord knows what; but that's nothing tous; they make us pay our taxes; they take care of that; ay, ay, ay, theyare sure of that. Pray what have they done for these twenty years lastpast?--Why, nothing at all; they have only made a few turnpike roads, and kept the partridges alive till September; that's all they have done, for the good of their country. There were some great people formerly, that lov'd their country, that did every thing for the good of theircountry; there were your Alexander the Great--he lov'd his country, and Julius Caesar lov'd his country, and Charles of Sweedland lov'd hiscountry, and Queen Semiramis, she lov'd her country more than any of'em, for she invented solomon-gundy; that's the best eating in the wholeworld. Now I'll shew you my plan of operations, Mr. Costive. --We'llsuppose this drop of punch here to be the main ocean, or the sea; verywell. These pieces of cork to be our men of war; very well. Now whereshall I raise my fortifications? I wish I had Mr. Major {95}Moncrieffhere; he's the best in the world at raising a fortification. Oh! Ihave it. [_Breaks the pipes. _] We'll suppose them to be all the strongfortified places in the whole world; such as Fort Omoa, Tilbury Fort, Bergen op Zoom, and Tower Ditch, and all the other fortified places allover the world. Now I'd have all our horse-cavalry wear cork waistcoats, and all our foot-infantry should wear air jackets. Then, sir, they'dcross the sea before you could say Jack Robinson. And wheredo you think they should land, Mr. Costive? whisper me that. Ha!--What?--When?--How?--You don't know. --How should you!--Was you everin Germany or Bohemia?--Now, I have; I understands jography. Now theyshould land in America, under the line, close to the south pole; therethey should land every mother's babe of 'em. Then there's the Catabaws, and there's the Catawaws; there's the Cherokees, and there's the ruffsand rees; they are the four great nations. Then I takes my Catabaws allacross the continent, from Jamaica to Bengal; then they should go tothe Mediterranean. You know where the Mediterranean is?--No, youknow nothing; I'll tell you; the Mediterranean is the metropolis ofConstantinople. Then I'd send a fleet to blockade {96}Paris till theFrench king had given up Paul Jones; then I'd send for GeneralClinton and Colonel Tarleton; and--Where was I, Mr. Costive; withTarleton;--Thank ye--so I was; but you are so dull, Mr Costive, you putme out. Now I'll explain the whole affair to you; you shan't miss a wordof it. Now there is the king of Prussia and the empress of Russia, and the nabob of Arcot, and the king of the Hottentots, are all inthe Protestant interest; they make a diversion upon all the Chamof Tartary's back setlements; then Sir Guy Carleton comes with a_circumbendibus_, and retakes all the islands, Rhode Island and all; andtakes 'em _here_ and _there_, and _there_ and _here_, and _every where_. There is the whole affair explained at once to you. "

This is the head of a Proud Man: all heads in that predicament areunsound. This man was rich; and as wealth is a certain hot-bed to raiseflatterers, he had enough of them; they told him he was every thing; hebelieved them, and always spoke in the first person, saying, I, I, I--I will have it so; I know it;--I, I--which puts one in mind of aschool-boy toning out before his mistress's knees, I by itself I. Yetthere is one piece of pride which may be thought excusable; and {97}thatis, that honest exultation of heart which every public performer feelsfrom the approbation of his auditors; gratefully does he acknowledgetheir indulgence, and with sincerity declares that the utmost exertionof his abilities can never equal the favour of the public. 

By way of Epilogue, here are two wigs. [_Takes two wigs. _] This iscalled the full-buckled bob, and carries a consequentially along withit: it is worn by those people who frequent city feasts, and gorgethemselves at a Lord-Mayor's-show dinner; and, with one of these wigson, their double chins rested upon their breasts, and their shouldersup, they seem as if they had eaten themselves into a {98}state ofindigestion, or else had bumpered themselves out of breath with bottledbeer. [_Puts on the wig. _] "Waiter! bring me a ladleful of soup. Youdog, don't take off that haunch of venison yet!--Bring me the lamb, aglass of currant jelly, and a clean plate. A hob-nob, sir. " "With allmy heart. " "Two bumpers of Madeira!--Love, health, and ready rhino, toall the friends that you and I know. "--On the contrary, these lank looksform the half-famished face. [_Puts on the Methodist hair, and takes thetub. _]

The floor of the world is filthy, the mud of Mammon eats up all yourupper leathers, and we are all become sad soals. Brethren, (the wordbrethren comes from the tabernacle, because we {99}all breathe therein), if you are drowsy I'll rouse you, I'll beat a tattoo upon the parchmentcase of your conscience, and I'll whisk the devil like a whirligig amongyou. Now let me ask you a question seriously. Did you ever see any bodyeat any hasty-pudding? What faces they make when it scalds their mouths!Phoo, phoo, phoo! What faces will you all make when old Nick nicks you?Now unto a bowl of punch I compare matrimony; there's the sweet part ofit, which is the honey-moon: then there's the largest part of it, that'sthe most insipid, that comes after, and that's the water; then there'sthe strong spirits, that's the husband; then there's the sour spirit, that's the wife. But you don't mind me, no more than a dead horse doesa pair of spectacles; if you did, the sweet words which I utter would belike a treacle posset to your palates. Do you know how many taylorsmake a man?--Why nine. How many half a man?--Why four journeymen and anapprentice. So have you all been bound 'prentices to madam Faddle, thefashion-maker; ye have served your times out, and now you set up foryourselves. My bowels and my small guts groan for you; as the cat on thehouse-top is caterwauling, so from the top of my voice will I {100}bebawling. Put--put some money in the plate, then your abomination shallbe scalded off like bristles from the hog's back, and ye shall bescalped of them all as easily as I pull off this periwig. 

My attempt you have heard to succeed the projector, And I tremblinglywait your award of this lecture; No merits I plead, but what's fit formy station, And that is the merit of your approbation. And, since formere mirth I exhibit this plan, Condemn, if you please--but excuse, ifyou can. 

END OF THE LECTURE, AN ESSAY ON SATIRE. 

{101}The vice and folly which overspread human nature first createdthe satirist. We should not, therefore, attribute his severity to amalignity of disposition, but to an exquisite sense of propriety, anhonest indignation of depravity, and a generous desire to reform thedegenerated manners of his fellow-creatures. This has been the causeof Aristophanes censuring the pedantry and superstition of Socrates;Horace, Persius, Martial, and Juvenal, the luxury and profligacy of theRomans; Boileau and Molière the levity and refinement of the French;Cervantes the romantic pride and madness of the Spanish; and Dorset, Gldharn, Swift, Addison, Churchill, Stevens, and Foote, the varietyof vice, folly, and luxury, which we have imported from our extensivecommerce and intercourse with other nations. We should, consequently, reverse the satirist and correct ourselves. 

{102}We should not avoid him as the detecter, but as the friendlymonitor. If he speaks severe truths, we should condemn our own conductwhich gives him the power. 

It has frequently been observed, that the satirist has proved morebeneficial to the correction of a state than the divine or legislator. Indeed he seems to have been created with peculiar penetrativefaculties, and integrity of disposition, and a happy genius to displaythe enormity of the features, while it corrects the corrupt exerciseof our vices. The legislator may frame laws sufficiently wise andjudicious, to check and control villany, without the power of impedingthe progress of vice and folly, while they are kept within the limits ofonly injuring ourselves. For law has no power to punish us for the viceswhich debilitate our constitution, destroy our substance, or degrade ourcharacter. 

Nor can religion entirely extirpate vice, no more than she can evencontrol folly. Her two principles, alluring to virtue by promise ofreward, and dissuading from vice by threats of punishment, extend theirinfluence no farther than on those whose dispositions are susceptibleof their impressions. So that we find numbers among {103}mankind whoseconduct and opinions are beyond her power. The atheist, who disbelievesa future existence, is not likely to check the exercise of his favouritevicious habits for any hope of reward or dread of punishment; and thedebauchee, who, though he may not deny the truth of her tenets, yet istoo much absorbed in his pleasures, to listen to her precepts, or regardher examples. Besides, there are many so weak in their resolution asnot to be capable of breaking the fetters of habit and prepossession, although they are, at the same time, sensible of their destructiveconsequences. It is, therefore, that nature has implanted in us a sensewhich tends to correct our disposition, where law and religion are seento have no power. This sense is a desire of public estimation, which notonly tends to give mankind perfection in every art and science, but alsoto render our personal character respectable. It is this susceptibilityof shame and infamy which gives satire its efficiency. 

Without this sense of ourselves, the scourge would lose its power ofchastisement. We should receive the lashes without a sense of theirpain; and without the sense of their pain we would never amend from thisaffliction. From the desire of {104}being approved and noticed, arises every effort which constitutes the variety of employments andexcellencies the world possesses. It actuates the prince and the beggar, the peasant and the politician, the labourer and the scholar, themechanic and the soldier, the player and the divine. In a word, thereis not an individual in the community whose conduct is not influenced byits dictates. It is, therefore, not surprising that mankind should beso impressive to the power of satire, whose object is to describe theirvices and follies, for the finger of public infamy to point at theirdeformities and delinquencies. Thus, where law cannot extend its aweand authority, satire wields the scourge of disgrace; and where religioncannot convince the atheist, attract the attention of the debauchee, orreform those who are subject to the power of habit and fashion, satireaffords effectually her assistance. Satire reforms the drunkard, byexposing to the view of himself and the world the brutality of hisactions and person when under the influence of intoxication. Satirereforms, likewise, the inordinate actions of those who are not awed bythe belief of future reward and punishment, by exposing them to infamyduring their present {105}existence. And those who are subject to thedominion of depraved habits satire awakens to a practice of reformation, from the poignant sense of being the derision and contempt of all theirconnexions; for there is no incentive so powerful to abandon perniciouscustoms as the sense of present and future disgrace. We may, therefore, conclude, that nothing tends so much to correct vice and folly as thisspecies of public censure. Having thus made some observations on thegeneral utility and necessity of satire, we shall proceed to examinewhich of its species is the most likely to be effective. 

The most remarkable species of satire are, the narrative, dramatic, andpicturesque; which have also their separate species peculiar to each. The narrative contains those that either reprove with a smile or afrown, by pourtraying the characteristics of an individual, or thegeneral manners of a society, people, or nation; and are eitherdescribed in verse or prose. The dramatic contains perfect resemblance, which is described by comedy; or caricature, which is described byfarce. And the picturesque is what exercises the painter, engraver, and sculptor. In all these species the satirist may either divert byhis humour, entertain by his wit, or torture by his severity. Each mode{106}has its advocates. But we think that the mode should be adapted tothe nature of the vice or folly which demands correction. If the vice beof an atrocious nature, it certainly requires that the satire be severe. If it be of a nature that arises more from a weakness of mind thandepravity of feeling, we think it should be chastised by the livelyand pointed sarcasms of wit; and, if the failing be merely a folly, it should only be the subject of humorous ridicule. With respectto determining which species of satire is the most preferable, thenarrative of Horace and Juvenal, the dramatic of Aristophanes and Foote, or the picturesque of Hogarth and Stevens; we can best form ouropinion from comparing their different defects and excellencies. Asthe narrative is merely a description of manners, it is devoid of thatimitation of passion and character which gives effect to the dramatic. But, as the language is more pointed, more energetic, and more elegant, it certainly must impress the reader more deeply. The dramatic, therefore, while it is calculated to affect more the spectator, isinferior to the narrative in the closet. The picturesque is moredefective than either of the two former. It has only power to describethe action of an instant, and {107}this without the assistance ofreflection, observation, and sentiment, which they derive from theirverbal expression. 

We may, consequently, perceive that each species has defects to whichothers are not liable, and excellencies which the others do not possess. 

Thus it is evident that a species of satire, which could blend all theadvantages of all the three, can only be that which is adequate to theidea of perfect satire. This kind of satire is the Lecture on Heads. We cannot, therefore, be surprised that it should have been the mostpopular exhibition of the age. The heads and their dresses composed thepicturesque: the assumption of character and dialogue by the lecturer, composed the dramatic; and the lively description of manners, thejudicious propriety and pertinence of observation, composed thenarrative. Thus did the genius of its author invent a species ofentertainment which possessed excellencies that counterbalanced thedefects of all other satirists, produced from the age of Aristophanes, who flourished four hundred and seven years before the Christian era, until his own time. 

Having thus enforced the utility of satire in general, and specified thedefects and properties of {108}its particular kinds, we shall proceed tomake a few observations on the peculiar merit of the Lecture on Heads. We have already seen that it possesses every quality of all othersatires in itself: it only, therefore, remains to consider its wit, humour, character, and apparatus; which are its essensial properties. The wit of this Lecture is as various as the subjects which itsatirises. Its brilliancy charms, its poignancy convicts while itchastises, and its pertinency always adorns the sentiment or observationit would illustrate. The variety of its species always entertains, butnever satiates. Even puns please, from the aptness and pleasantry oftheir conceits. His wit is so predominant, that, if we may be allowedthe expression, it is discovered in his silence. A most striking exampleof this is where he uses the rhetorical figure called the Aposiopesis, or suppression, in displaying the head of a prostitute: he introducesit with saying, "This is the head of a woman of the town, or a ------;but, whatever other title the lady may have, we are not entitled here totake notice of it. " Nothing can be more delicate than this suppression:it displays a tenderness and liberality to the frailty of female nature, which does as much credit to his feelings as to his genius. 

{109}We know not a more happy instance of giving expression to silence, or giving an idea without verbal assistance, than is contained in theabove character. 

The humour of this Lecture is grotesque, lively, and delicate; itvaries its form with the character it ridicules. Nothing can surpass thehumorous whimsicality of his situations and expressions; for they pleaseas much from the fanciful manner in which he places the ridiculous toour view, as from the resemblance with which he so naturally describesthe prototype. His description of a London Blood cannot fail to excitelaughter in the features of the greatest cynic. The natural propensitywhich mankind has to laugh at mischief never was more happily gratifiedthan from his describing this character _pushing a blind horse into achina-shop_. Had he chosen any other animal, the effect would not havebeen so great on his audience. If it had been an ass, it would havebeen attended with an idea of the obstinacy and the reluctance of thisanimal, which would have suggested its being too difficult; it wouldnot, therefore, have excited, in any manner, the risible faculty. Hadit been an ox, it would have {110}connected with it the idea of too muchfury and devastation to entertain with the picture. But choosing a blindhorse, who, from his loss of sight and natural docility, may beeasily supposed to be led into such a situation; the mind adopts thecredibility, and enjoys the whimsical and mischievous consequence, whileit condemns the folly and puerility of the Blood who occasioned it. It is this peculiar faculty of choice of subjects, situation, andassemblage, which constitutes the excellence of a humorist, whichStevens possessed in a most eminent degree; for he displays it in almostevery line of his Lecture. Indeed, in this art we know of none superiorto him, except it be Shakespeare in some of his comedies, which areinimitable in every thing which relates to the _vis comica_. Withrespect to the characters of this Lecture, they are such as will befound to exist with human nature; except a few, who are described asthe devotees to particular fashions; and such will always be found whilevanity, luxury, and dissipation, exist in society. Therefore, from thisuniversality of character, his Lecture will ever be worthy theperusal of every person who would wish to avoid being contemptible orridiculous: for {111}there is no person but may be liable to some viceor folly, which he will find exposed by this masterly, pleasant, andoriginal, satirist. 

His characters compose every part of the community. The old and young, rich and poor, male and female, married and unmarried, and thoseof every learned and unlearned profession, are the subjects of hiswhimsical, yet judicious and pertinent, censure. 

Having thus made some general remarks on the wit, humour, and character, of this Lecture, it only remains for us to say a few words on itsapparatus. This was merely the picturesque part of the satire, whichgave that effect to the _tout ensemble_, which it would not otherwisehave produced as a representation. It was by this appendage that Mr. Stevens was enabled to afford entertainment for nearly three hourswithout a change of person, although he changed his appearance. Theapparatus was not only an ornament, but a visible illustration of whatwould otherwise have been only mental. It was, therefore, indispensableas a stage exhibition; for, to entertain an audience, the sight must beexercised as well as the mind. It is necessary to prevent languor, whichwill always be the consequence where reflection is {112}more exertedthan sensation. Thus, in every public exhibition, the senses of hearingand seeing should be gratified in every manner that is consistent withthe nature of what is produced for the observation of the mind. Butalthough this apparatus was necessary as a representation, it may bedispensed with as a closet satire: for, not being confined to read twoor three hours, we can shut the book whenever it becomes uninteresting, which we cannot at a public lecture. We are then confined to one placeand one object during its performance. It is this which renders everylecture, that is not accompanied by some apparatus, so tiresome to theauditor. We, therefore, read such lectures as are upon literary Subjectswith more pleasure than we hear them delivered. But lectures on anatomy, experimental philosophy, astronomy, and every other that admits ofapparatus, we hear and see with much more pleasure and improvement thanwhen we read them. In regard to the Lecture on Heads, as the apparatusis not necessary to make the reader comprehend the force and meaning ofthe satire more than he can from the words themselves, we make no doubtbut its perusal will afford such pleasure as to increase its estimation, if possible, {113}with the public. From a more close attention they willdiscover beauties of wit, humour, character, and imitation, that werenot perceived during its representation: for the minds of an audienceare very susceptible of being diverted from attending to what isrepresented before them. 

The company whom they are with, or the attractions of others whom theysee among an audience, frequently suspend the attention while it losesthe greatest beauties of the performance. But, when we are reading aperformance in our closet, whatever is capable of pleasing from itsnovelty, propriety, or excellence, is not liable to be lost from anyobstruction or interference by other objects. 

Consciousness, therefore, of the entertainment this Lecture will affordto the reader, as well as the auditor and spectator, is the chiefinducement of submitting it thus, in its only original state, for hisapprobation.