“Cataracts of declamation thunder here, There, forests of no meaning spread the page,
In which all comprehension wanders, lost,
While fields of pleasantry amuse us there
With many descants on a nation's woes.
The rest appears a wilderness of strange,
But gay confusion—roses for the cheeks,
And lilies for the brows of faded age;
Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald,
Heav'n, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets;
Nectareous essences, Olympian dews,
Sermons and City feasts, and fav'rite airs,
Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits,
And Katerfelto with his hair on end,
At his own wonders wond'ring for his bread.”
 
“WELL,” said Tom, “it must be confessed that a Newspaper is a most convenient and agreeable companion to the breakfast-table,” laying down the Times as he spoke: “it is a sort of literary hotch-potch, calculated to afford amusement suited to all tastes, rank-, and degrees; it contains
“Tales of love and maids mistaken,
Of battles fought, and captives taken.”
 
“Then, I presume,” said Bob, “you have been gratified and interested in the perusal?”
“It is impossible to look down the columns of a newspaper,” replied Tom, “without finding subjects to impart light; and of all the journals of the present day, the Times appears to me the best in point of information and conduct; but I spoke of newspapers generally, there is such a mixture of the utile et dulce, that the Merchant and the Mechanic, the Peer, the Poet, the Prelate, and the Peasant, are all deeply concerned in its contents. In truth, a newspaper is so true a mark of the caprice of Englishmen, that it may justly be styled their coat of [211]arms. The Turkish Koran is not near so sacred to a rigid Mahometan—a parish-dinner to an Overseer—a turtle-feast to an Alderman, or an election to a Freeholder, as a Gazette or Newspaper to an Englishman: by it the motions of the world are watched, and in some degree governed—the arts and sciences protected and promoted—the virtuous supported and stimulated—the vicious reproved and corrected—and all informed.”
“Consequently,” said Bob, “a good Newspaper is really a valuable article.”
“Doubtless,” continued Tom; “and John Bull—mistake me not, I don't mean the paper which bears that title—I mean the population of England, enjoy a Newspaper, and there are some who could not relish their breakfasts without one; it is a sort of general sauce to every thing, and to the quid nunc is indispensable—for if one informs him of a naval armament, he will not fail to toast the Admirals all round in pint bumpers to each, wishes them success, gets drunk with excessive loyalty, and goes with his head full of seventy-fours, sixty-fours, frigates, transports, fire-ships, &c. In its diversified pages, persons of every rank, denomination, and pursuit, may be informed—the Philosopher, the Politician, the Citizen, the Handicraftsman, and the Gossip, are regaled by the novelty of its contents, the minuteness of its details, and the refreshing arrivals of transactions which occupy the attention of human beings at the greatest or nearest distances from us—
“——a messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some:
What is it but a map of life,
Its fluctuations and its vast concerns?”
 
It may with propriety be compared to the planetary system: the light which it diffuses round the mental hemisphere, operates according as it is seen, felt, understood, or enjoyed: for instance, the Miser is gladdened by an account of the rise of the stocks—the Mariner is rejoiced, at the safety of his vessel after a thunder-storm—the Manufacturer, to hear of the revival of foreign markets—the Merchant, that his cargo is safely arrived—the Member, that his election is secured—the Father, that his son is walling to return home—the Poet, that [212]his production has been favourably received by the public—the Physician, that a difficult cure is transmitting his fame to posterity—the Actor, that his talents are duly appreciated—the Agriculturist, that grain fetches a good price—the upright man, that his character is defended—the poor man, that beer, meat, bread, and vegetables, are so within his reach that he can assure himself of being able to obtain a good Sunday's dinner.
“Tho' they differ in narrie, all alike, just the same, Morning Chronicle, Times, Advertiser, British Press, Morning Post, of News—what a host We read every day, and grow wiser; The Examiner, Whig—all alive to the gig, While each one his favourite chooses; Star, Traveller, and Sun, to keep up the fun, And tell all the world what the news is.”
“Well done,” said Bob, “you seem to have them all at your tongue's end, and their general contents in your head; but, for my part, I am struck with surprise to know how it is they find interesting matter enough at all times to fill their columns.”
“Nothing more easy,” continued Dashall, “especially for a newspaper whose contents are not sanctioned by authority; in which case they are so much the more the receptacle of invention—thence—We hear—it is said—a correspondent remarks—whereas, &c—all which serve to please, surprise, and inform. We hear, can alter a man's face as the weather would a barometer—It is said, can distort another like a fit of the spasm—If, can make some cry—while Suppose, can make others laugh—but a Whereas operates like an electric shock; and though it often runs the extremity of the kingdom in unison with the rest, they altogether form a very agreeable mixture, occasionally interspersed, as opportunity offers, with long extracts from the last published novel, and an account of the prevailing fashions. But domestic occurrences form a very essential part of this folio: thus, a marriage hurts an old maid and mortifies a young one, while it consoles many a poor dejected husband, who is secretly pleased to find another fallen into his case—a death, if of a wife, makes husbands envy the widower, while, perhaps, some one of the women who censure his alleged want of [213]decent sorrow, marry him within a month after—in fact, every person is put in motion by a Newspaper.
“Here various news is found, of love and strife;
Of peace and war, health, sickness, death, and life;
Of loss and gain, of famine and of store;
Of storms at sea, and travels on the shore;
Of prodigies and portents seen in air;
Of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair;
Of turns of fortune, changes in the state,
The falls of favourites, projects of the great.”
 
“It is a bill of fare, containing all the luxuries as well as necessaries, of life. Politics, for instance, are the roast beef of the times; essays, the plum pudding; and poetry the fritters, confections, custards, and all the et cotera of the table, usually denominated trifles. Yet the four winds are not liable to more mutability than the vehicles of these entertainments; for instance, on Monday, it is whispered—on Tuesday, it is rumoured—on Wednesday, it is conjectured—on Thursday, it is probable—on Friday, it is positively asserted—and, on Saturday, it is premature. But notwithstanding this, some how or other, all are eventually pleased; for, as the affections of all are divided among wit, anecdote, poetry, prices of stocks, the arrival of ships, &c. a Newspaper is a repository where every one has his hobby-horse; without it, coffee-houses, &c. would be depopulated, and the country squire, the curate, the exciseman, and the barber, and many others, would lose those golden opportunities of appearing so very wise as they do.
A Newspaper may also be compared to the Seasons. Its information varies on the roll of Time, and much of it passes away as a Winter, giving many a bitter pang of the death of a relative or hopeful lover; it is as a Spring, for, in the time of war and civil commotion, its luminary, the editor, like the morning sun, leads Hope forward to milder days and happier prospects—the smiles of peace; it is the heart's Summer calendar, giving news of marriages and births for heirs and patrons; it is the Autumn of joy, giving accounts of plenty, and guarding the avaricious against the snares of self-love, and offering arguments in favour of humanity. It is more; a Newspaper is one of the most faithful lessons that can be represented to our reflections, for, while it is the interpreter [214]of the general economy of nature, it is a most kind and able instructress to improve ourselves.
What are our lives but as the ephemeral appearance of an advertisement? Our actions but as the actions of a popular contest? Our hopes, fears, exultations, but as the cross readings of diurnal events? And although grief is felt at the perusal of accidents, offences, and crimes, which are necessarily and judiciously given, there is in every good Newspaper an impartial record, an abstract of the times, a vast fund of useful knowledge; and, finally, no person has reason, after perusing it, to rise without being thankful that so useful a medium is offered to his understanding; at least, this is my opinion.”
“And now you have favoured me with this opinion,” rejoined Tallyho, “will you be kind enough to inform me to what fortunate circumstance I am indebted for it?”
“The question comes very apropos,” continued Tom—“for I had nearly forgotten that circumstance, so that you may perhaps be inclined to compare my head to a newspaper, constantly varying from subject to subject; but no matter, a novelty has just struck my eye, which I think will afford us much gratification: it is the announcement of an exhibition of engravings by living artists, under the immediate patronage of his Majesty, recently opened in Soho Square, through the public spirited exertions of Mr. Cooke, a celebrated engraver—And now I think of it, Mortimer and his Sister intend visiting Somerset House—egad! we will make a morning of it in reviewing the Arts—what say you?”
“With all my heart,” returned Bob.
“Be it so, then,” said Tom—“So-ho, my boy—perhaps we may meet the love-sick youth, poor Sparkle; he has certainly received the wound of the blind urchin—I believe we must pity him—but come, let us prepare, we will lounge away an hour in walking down Bond Street—peep at the wags and the wag-tails, and take Soho Square in our way to Somerset House. I feel myself just in the humour for a bit of gig, and 1 promise you we will make a night of it.”
The preliminaries of their route being thus arranged, in half an hour they were on their road down Bond Street, marking and remarking upon circumstances and subjects as they arose.
“Who is that Lady?” said Bob, seeing Tom bow as a dashing carriage passed them.
“That is a Lady Townley, according to the generally
received term.”
“A lady of title, as I suspected,” said Bob.
“Yes, yes,” replied Tom Dashall, “a distinguished personage, I can assure you—one of the most dashing demireps of the present day, basking at this moment in the plenitude of her good fortune. She is however deserving of a better fate: well educated and brought up, she was early initiated into the mysteries and miseries of high life. You seem to wonder at the title I have given her.”
“I am astonished again, I confess,” replied Bob; “but it appears there is no end to wonders in London—nor can I guess how you so accurately know them.”
“Along residence in London affords opportunities for
discovery.
“As the French very justly say, that Il n'y a que le premier pas qui co?te, and just as, with all the sapience of medicine, there is but a degree betwixt the Doctor and the Student, so, after the first step, there is but a degree betwixt the Demirep and the gazetted Cyprian, who is known by head-mark to every insipid Amateur and Fancier in the town.
“The number of these frail ones is so great, that, if I were to attempt to go through the shades and gradations, the distinctions and titles, from the promiscuous Duchess to the interested Marchande de mode, and from her down to the Wood Nymphs of the English Opera, there would be such a longo ordine génies, that although it is a very interesting subject, well worthy of investigation, it would occupy a considerable portion of time; however, I will give you a slight sketch of some well known and very topping articles. Mrs. B——m, commonly called B——g, Mrs. P——n, and Mrs. H——d, of various life. “The modern Pyrrha, B——g, has a train as long as an eastern monarch, but it is a train of lovers. The Honourable B—— C——n, that famous gentleman miller, had the honour at one time (like Cromwell,) of being the Protector of the Republic. The infamous Greek, bully, informer and reprobate W——ce, was her accomplice and paramour at another. Lord V——l boasted her favours at a third period; and she wished to look upon him in a fatherly [216]light; but it would not do. Mr. C. T. S. the nephew of a great naval character, is supposed to have a greater or prior claim there; but the piebald harlequin is owned not by “Light horse, but by heavy.”
“Mr. P——y, however, was so struck with the increased
attractions of this Cyprian, that he offered to be her protector during a confinement which may be alarming to many, but interesting to a few. This was being doubly diligent, and accordingly as it was two to one in his favour, no wonder he succeeded in his suit. The difficulties which Madame laboured under were sufficient to decide her in this youth's favour; and the preference, upon such an occasion, must have been highly flattering to him. On the score of difficulties, Cyprians are quite in fashion; for executions and arrests are very usual in their mansions, and the last comer has the exquisite felicity of relieving them.
“Although this dashing Lady was the daughter of a bathing woman at Brighton, she was not enabled to keep her head above water.
“I must not forget Poll P——n, whose select friends have such cause to be proud of lier election. This Diana is not descended from a member of the Rump Parliament, nor from a bum bailiff; but was the daughter of a bumboat woman at Plymouth. She has, however, since that period, commenced business for herself; and that in such a respectable and extensive line, that she counts exactly seven thousand customers! all regularly booked. What a delectable amusement to keep such a register! Neanmoins, or nean plus, if you like. It is reported that the noble Y—— was so delighted with her at the Venetian fête given by Messrs. W—ll—ms and D—h—r—ty, that he gave the Virgin Unmasked several very valuable presents, item, a shawl value one hundred guineas, &c. and was honoured by being put on this Prime Minister of the Court of Love's list—number Seven thousand and one! What a fortunate man!
“Mrs. H——d is lineally descended, not from William the Conqueror, but from W——s the coachman. She lived, for a considerable time, in a mews, and it was thought that it was his love for the Muses which attached C—— L—— so closely to her. She was seduced at a most indelicately juvenile age by a Major M——l, who protected her but a short time, and then deserted her. Then [217]she became what the Cyprians term Lady Townly, till Mr. H——d, a youth with considerable West India property in expectation, married her.
“On this happy occasion, her hymeneal flame burned with so much warmth and purity, that she shared it with a linen-draper, and the circumstance became almost immediately known to the husband! This was a happy presage of future connubial felicity! The very day before this domestic exposure, and the happy vigil of Mr. H——d's happier “jour des noces,” the darling of the Muses or Mewses, Mr. L—— procured Lady H——d's private box for her at one of the theatres, whither she and Mrs. CI——y, the mistress of an officer of that name, repaired in the carriage of the Mews lover, which has become completely “the Demirep or Cyprian's Diligence,” and these patterns for the fair sex had poured out such plentiful libations to Bacchus, that her ladyship's box exhibited the effects of their devotions! What a regale for the Princess of Madagascar!
“The guardians, or trustees, of Mr. H——d now withheld his property, and Madame assisted him into the King's Bench, during which time she kept terms with Mr. L—— at Oxford. On her return, she got acquainted with a Capt. Cr——ks, whom she contrived soon afterwards to lodge, in the next room to her husband, in the Bench; but to whom she kindly gave the preference in her visits.
“Whether C—— L——, W—lk—s the linen-draper, or Capt. C——k, be the most favoured swain, or swine, I venture not to say; but the former has devoted his time, his chariot, and his female acquaintances' boxes in public to her. As a pledge of his love, she helped herself to a loose picture of great value belonging to him, which very nearly fell into the hands of John Doe or Richard Roe, on her husband's account, afterwards. The palm should, however, certainly be given to Mr. L——, as he courted her classically, moralized to her sentimentally, sung psalms and prayed with her fervently, and, on all occasions, treated her like a lady.”
“Ha,” said a fashionably dressed young man, who approached towards Dashall, “Ha, my dear fellow, how goes it with you? Haven't seen you this month; d——d unlucky circumstance—wanted you very much indeed—glorious sport—all jolly and bang up.” [218]"Glad to hear it,” said Tom,—“sorry you should have experienced any wants on my account.”
“Which way are you going? Come along, I'll tell you of such a spree—regular, and nothing but—You must know, a few days ago, sauntering down Bond-street, I overtook Sir G. W. 'Ha! my gay fellow,' said he, 'I thought you were at Bibury; you're the very man I want. My brother Jack has lost a rump and dozen to a young one, and we want to make up a select party, a set of real hardheaded fellows, to share the feast. I have already recruited Sir M. M., the buck Parson, Lord Lavender, and Tom Shuffleton. Then there's yourself, I hope, my brother and I, the young one, and A——'s deputy, the reprobate Curate, whom we will have to make fun of. We dine at half-past seven, at Long's, and there will be some sport, I assure you.'
“I accepted the invitation, and met the company before mentioned. A rump and dozen is always a nominal thing. There was no rump, except Lavender's, which projects like a female's from the bottom of a tight-laced pair of stays; and as for the dozen, I believe we drank nearer three dozen of different expensive wines, which were tasted one after the other with a quickness of succession, which at last left no taste, but a taste for more drink, and for all sorts of wickedness.
“This tasting plan is a very successful trick of tavern keepers, which enables them to carry off half bottles of wine, to swell the reckoning most amazingly, and so to bewilder people as to the qualities of the wine, that any thing, provided it be strong and not acid, will go down at the heel of the evening. It is also a grand manouvre; to intoxicate a Johnny Raw, and to astonish his weak mind with admiration for the founder of the feast. Therefore, the old trick of 'I have got some particularly high-flavoured Burgundy, which Lord Lavender very much approved t'other day;' and, 'Might I, Sir, ask your opinion of a new importation of Sillery?' or, 'My Lord, 1 have bought all the Nabob's East India Madeira,' &c. was successfully practised.
“Through the first course we were stag-hunting, to a man, and killed the stag just as the second course came on the table. This course was occupied by a great number of long shots of Sir M. M., and by Lavender offering to back himself and the buck Parson against any other two [219]men in England, as to the number of head of game which they would bag from sun-rise to sun-set upon the moors. A foot race, and a dispute as to the odds betted on the second October Meeting, occupied the third course. The desert was enlivened by a list of ladies of all descriptions, whose characters were cut up full as ably as the haunch of venison was carved; and here boasting of success in love was as general as the custom is base. One man of fashion goes by the name of Kiss and tell.
“After an hour of hard drinking, as though it had been for a wager, a number of very manly, nice little innocent and instructive amusements were resorted to. We had a most excellent maggot race for a hundred; and then a handycap for a future poney race. We had pitching a guinea into a decanter, at which the young one lost considerably. We had a raffle for a gold snuff box, a challenge of fifty against Lord Lavender's Dusseldorf Pipe, and five hundred betted upon the number of shot to be put into a Joe Manton Rifle. We played at te-to-tum; and the young one leaped over a handkerchief six feet high for a wager: he performed extremely well at first, but at last Lavender, who betted against him, kept plying him so with wine, and daring him to an inch higher and higher, until at last the young one broke his nose, and lost five hundred guineas by his boyish diversion.
Now we had a fulminating letter introduced as a hoax upon Shuffleton; next, devils and broiled bones; then some blasphemous songs from the Curate, who afterwards fell asleep, and thus furnished an opportunity for having his face blacked. We then got in a band of itinerant musicians; put crackers in their pockets; cut off one fellow's tail; and had a milling match betwixt the baronet in the chair and the stoutest of them, who, having had spirits of wine poured over his head, refused to let the candle be put to it!
Peace being restored, a regular supper appeared; and then a regular set-to at play, where I perceived divers signals thrown out, such as rubbing of foreheads and chins, taking two pinches of snuff and other private telegraphic communications, the result of which was, the young one, just of age, being greeked to a very great amount.
We now sallied forth, like a pack in full cry, with all the loud expression of mirth and riot, and proceeded to [220]old 77, which, being shut up, we swore like troopers, and broke the parlour windows in a rage. We next cut the traces of a hackney coach, and led the horses into a mews, ?where we tied them up; coachee being asleep inside the whole time. We then proceeded to old Ham-a-dry-ed, the bacon man's, called out Fire, and got the old man down to the door in his shirt, when Lavender ran away with his night-cap, and threw it into the water in St. James's Square, whilst the Baronet put it in right and left at his sconce, and told him to hide his d——d ugly masard. This induced him to come out and call the Watch, during which time the buck Parson got into his house, and was very snug with the cook wench until the next evening, when old fusty mug went out upon busin............