The History of Johnny Quae Genus Part 1

The History of Johnny Quae Genus.

by William Combe.

PREFACE

This prolonged work is, at length, brought to a close.--It has grown to this size, under rare and continuing marks of public favour; while the same mode of Composition has been employed in the last, as in the former Volumes. They are all equally indebted to MR. ROWLANDSON'S talents.

It may, perhaps, be considered as presumption in me, and at my age, to sport even with my own Dowdy Muse, but, from the extensive patronage which DOCTOR SYNTAX has received, it may be presumed that, more or less, he has continued to amuse: And I, surely, have no reason to be dissatisfied, when Time points at my eightieth Year, that I can still afford some pleasure to those who are disposed to be pleased.

The AUTHOR.

_May 1, 1821._

CANTO I

Johnny Quae Genus! what a name To offer to the voice of Fame!

(Though she 'tis hop'd may condescend To act as Little Johnny's friend) This may be said, when first the eye Does, by a careless glance, descry The striking range of marshall'd words Which a gay t.i.tLE-PAGE affords.

But what's a name, as SHAKESPEARE says, It neither gives nor lessens praise; Adds no fresh odour to the rose, Nor any other flower that blows: Whether with rare or common name The fragrance will be just the same.

'Tis not a t.i.tle can confer The good or ill of character, _HOWARDS_ have been both beat and bang'd, And some with ancient names been hang'd: Look at a s.h.i.+p with convicts stor'd What n.o.ble names are oft on board!

It is the living, current course Or of the better or the worse, That stamps, whate'er may be the name, Or with a good or evil fame.

But howsoe'er the thing we view Our little Johnny's t.i.tle's new: Or for the child or for the man, In an old phrase, 'tis _spick_ and _span_.

Besides, as most folk do agree To find a charm in novelty, 'Tis the first time that Grammar rule Which makes boys tremble when at school, Did with the name an union crave Which at the font a sponsor gave.

But whether 'twas in hum'rous mood Or by some cla.s.sic whim pursued, Or as, in Eton's Grammar known, It bore relation to his own, Syntax, it was at Whitsuntide, And a short time before he died, In pleasant humour, after dinner, Surnam'd, in wine, the little sinner.

And thus, amid the table's roar, } Gave him from good, old _Lilly's_ store, } A name which none e'er had before. } --'Squire Worthy, who, perchance was there, Promis'd the Doctor's wish to share, That want, at least might not annoy The progress of the Foundling Boy.

"--Syntax," He said, "We'll try between us To make the fortune of QUae GENUS: You feed his mind with learning's food, And I'll protect him if he's good."

"While I," said smiling _d.i.c.key Bend_, "Will add my mite as _Johnny's_ friend; Nor shall he want the sc.r.a.ps of knowledge Which he can pick up at my College."

--Thus, as they did the b.u.mper ply To Johnny's future destiny, The warm, almost parental heart Of Mrs. Syntax bore its part; And her cheek wore a smile of joy As she beheld th' unconscious boy, Who, careless of the kind debate, Play'd with the cherries on his plate.

But such is life's uncertain hour, And such is fate's tyrannic power, That while our comforts smile around The fatal dart inflicts the wound: Thus e'er another month was past Syntax, alas! had breath'd his last.

Whene'er he heard the widow sigh QUae GENUS wept he scarce knew why: Of a kind friend fate had bereft him, And an odd name was all he left him.

His urchin fancy only thought As his enquiring mind was taught, That his adopted sire was gone Where the good go to worlds unknown, To happy regions plac'd on high Above the blue and starry sky, Where, he was with the hope endued, That he should go, if he were good.

But the good lady took him home And kept him many a year to come; When he grew up a charming youth, In whom simplicity and truth Did o'er his ev'ry thought preside; While, with such an anxious guide, Life smil'd and seem'd to promise fair, That it would answer to the care Which her affection had bestow'd, To set him on his future road: But when she died poor John was hurl'd Into a bustling, tricking world.

He had, 'tis true, all she could leave; She gave him all there was to give; Of all she had she made him heir, But left it to a lawyer's care: No wonder then that he was cheated And her fond anxious hopes defeated: So that instead of his possessing The fruits of her last, dying blessing; He had, as it turn'd out, to rue } What foul rascality could do; } And his own wild vagaries too. }

Here, gentle reader, here begins The account of our young Hero's sins: But all which thus far form'd his fate, QUae GENUS will himself relate, And what truth bids him to rehea.r.s.e, My hum-strum Muse records in verse.

Thus I proceed,--my humble strain } Has hap'ly pleas'd.----I may be vain,-- } But still it hopes to please again. }

In this great overwhelming town, Certain receptacles are known, Where both the s.e.xes shew their faces To boast their talents and get places: Not such as kings and courts can give, Not such as n.o.ble folk receive, But those which yield their useful aid To common wants or gen'ral trade, Or finely furbish out the show That fas.h.i.+on does on life bestow.

Here those who want them may apply For toiling powers and industry, On whom the nervous strength's bestow'd To urge the wheel or bear the load.

Here all who want, may pick and chuse Each service of domestic use: The laundry, kitchen, chamber, dairy, May always find an Ann or Mary, While in th' accommodating room, He who wants coachman, footman, groom, Or butler staid, may come and have, With such as know to dress and shave.

--The art and skill may here be sought In ev'ry thing that's sold and bought, In all the well spread counter tells Of knowledge keen in yards and ells; Adepts in selling and in buying And perfect in the modes of lying; Who flatter misses in their teens, And harangue over bombazeens, Can, in glib words, nor fear detection, Arrange each colour to complexion: Can teach the beau the neckcloth's tie, With most becoming gravity; Or with a consequential air, Turn up the collar to a hair.

--Besides, your nice shop-women too, May at a call be brought to view, Who, with swift fingers, so bewitching, Are skill'd in ev'ry kind of st.i.tching; Can trim the hat, arrange the bonnet, And place the tasty ribbon on it.

In short, here all to service bound, May in their various shapes be found.

--From such who may display their charms, By smirking looks and active arms, To those in kitchen under ground Amid black pots and kettles found: From such as teach the early rules, Or in the male or female schools, To those of an inferior breed, Who ne'er have known to write or read: From those who do the laws perplex In toil at an attorney's desk, To such as pa.s.s their busy lives In cleaning shoes or cleaning knives.

To these, perhaps, an added score } Might swell the tiresome list or more, } But here description says, "give o'er." }

In such enregistering shop One morn a figure chanc'd to pop; (But here I beg it may be guess'd, Of these same shops it was the best, His hat was rather worse for wear, } His clothing, too, was somewhat bare, } His boots might say, "we've travell'd far." } His left hand an umbrella bore And something like a glove he wore: Clean was his very sun-burnt skin Without a long hair on his chin, While his lank face, in ev'ry feature, Proclaim'd a keen, discerning nature; And when he spoke there was an air } Of something not quite common there: } His manner good, his language fair. } A double cape of curious make, Fell from his shoulders down his back, As if art did the folds provide A very awkward hump to hide; But, if 'twere so, the cunning fail'd, For still the treach'rous bunch prevail'd.

By chatting here and talking there, He did his curious mind prepare With all the means by which to gain The end his wishes would obtain;-- Then with half-humble, solemn face, He sought the ruler of the place, Who boasted an establish'd fame, And _Sharpsight_ was his well-known name.

But ere we in our way proceed To tell of many a future deed, It may, we doubt not, be as well, To save all guess-work, just to tell, Of the part now upon the stage QUae GENUS was the personage.

Fortune's dark clouds, for some time past That learned t.i.tle had o'ercast, And he had borrow'd names in plenty, He might have gone by more than twenty; But now arriv'd in this great town } Without a fear of being known } He thought he might a.s.sume his own: } And he had weighty reasons too For what he was about to do, Which, we believe, a future page Will reconcile as reasons sage.

At length his statement he began, When thus the conversation ran.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_

QUae GENUS, IN SEARCH OF SERVICE.]

QUae GENUS.

"'Tis the first time I e'er applied To ask your counsel for my guide: But strange events have brought me here, And at your desk I now appear, But not without the means to pay, For all you do and all you say.

And here, good Sir, there's no concealing We must be cautious in our dealing: I want employment that will give Means to be honest and to live.

Such is my warm, heart-felt desire, Such is the boon I now require,-- And if you do my wishes aid, I tell you Sir,--_you shall be PAID_."

Sticking his pen behind his ear And with a keen enquiring leer, _Sharpsight_ the curious figure view'd, And thus the important talk pursued.

SHARPSIGHT.

"In answer to your just desire, Permit me fairly to enquire, Which to my ledger is transmitted, For what your qualities are fitted?

And, in good faith, I wish to know, What you have done, and what can do?

Nay, to whose word I may refer For your good name and character.

Such is essential to the case, Such are the first steps to a place, Of whate'er kind that place may be, Whether of high or low degree; Without them no access to station, No character, no situation.

--What you a.s.sert, you say is true, I'm sure, my friend, I wish so too: For what you ask, as you describe, Is ask'd by all the serving tribe: 'Tis that to which they all pretend, But those I never can commend In honour to my own good name, } And to this room's establish'd fame, } But what the rigid truth may claim. } Though as you look this place around, But common folk are to be found: Coachmen who sit without a whip; Footmen, without a call to skip; Gardeners who have lost their spade, And Journeymen without a trade; Clerks whose pens have long been idle; With grooms quite dull, who ask a bridle; Cooks who exclaim for roast and boil'd, And nurs'ry-maids without a child; Young, sprightly girls who long to clamber From drawing-rooms to upper chamber, Ready the drudg'ry to a.s.sail Of scrubbing-brush, and mop and pail; Stout porters who for places tarry, Whose shoulders ache for loads to carry; But character they must maintain, Or here they come, and pay in vain.

In short, were I to count them o'er, I could name twenty kinds or more, Who patient and impatient wait About this busy, crowded gate.

--But you might higher claimants see Within this crowded registry, Who do not at the desk appear, Nor e'er are seen in person here; But they are charged a larger fee, Both for success and secrecy.

Thus you must see how much depends, To gain your object and your ends, That you should truly let me know What you have done,--what you can do; And I, once more, beg to refer To your good name and character."

QUae GENUS.

"I do profess I can engage With n.o.ble, simple, and with sage.

Though young as yet, I've been so hurl'd About what you would call the world, That well I know it, yet 'tis true, I can be very honest too.

--Of the good name which you demand, I tell you--I've not one at hand.

Of friends, I once had ample store, But those fair, prosp'rous days are o'er, And I must mourn it to my cost That friends are dead, and gone, and lost; But if to conscience 'tis referr'd, My conscience says, Sir, take his word.

--Of character, though I have none, Perhaps, Sir, I can purchase one: I, from a corner of my coat, May just pluck out a pretty note; Which, with a view to gain an end, Might, in an urgent want, befriend.

Now, if to place me, you contrive, } Where I may have a chance to thrive; } I'll give this note, if I'm alive. } It may be rather worth your while; Perhaps it may awake a smile."