Poems on several subjects

Happy the man, who, studying Nature's laws,
Thro' known effects can trace the secret cause;
His mind possessing in a quiet state,
Fearless of fortune, and resign'd to fate.
Dryden.

Persons in the Poem.

An old Gentleman and his Lady.
Waste-all, their child.
Laborious, their child.
Miss Jenny, their child.
Caution, tenant to the gentleman.
Auld use-and-wont, wife to Caution.
Secret, servant to Caution, in love with Miss Jenny.
Burgher, a rich merchant.
Trust and Outly, two creditors.
Tipple, wife to Laborious.
Miss John, the minister.

140

CANTO I.

You that in stories take delight
To pass the tedious winter night,
Lend your attention here a-while,
The sequel it will make you smile:

Pass by its faults with negligence,
And think the author wanted sense;
And look not on it as a crime,
What's usher'd in for sake of rhyme;
None can pretend all men to please:
But here it comes just as it is.

There was a gentleman of late,
Who had an opulent estate,
A virtuous lady, chaste and fair,
That did three children to him bear:
Two sons; as usual, the first-born
Was heir; the second had a turn
For husbandry and rural life,
But chanc'd to wed a tippling wife.
The heir was Waste-all nam'd; and he
Was justly nam'd so, as you'll see:
Laborious was the second's name,
Whose wife Miss Tipple must needs claim:

The daughter, youngest of the three,
Was beauty's perfect symmetrie.
No byass'd misconstructed blame
Could ever stain Miss Jenny's name.
Her careful pious mother taught her
All duties that became a daughter;
And she as willing to obey,
Receiv'd her precepts ev'ry day;
Till she arriv'd in the complex
The perfect mirror of her sex:

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She could be chamber-maid and spinner,
And on a pinch could dress a dinner:
Thus, country-like, she did acquire
To manage both at barn and bire;
Yet could behave in her vocation
By the best born in the nation;
Of her, her father comfort had;
Her mother on her death-bed said,

“Your parents, Jean, you ne'er despis'd;
Therefore by me be now advis'd,
Ay learn to work, go where you will;
Can do, my dear, does seldom ill.
And for this reason we all know
All things are fickle here below:
Before you end your precious life,
You may become a farmer's wife;
Yea fortune may, if she's not kind,
Cause you to wed a lab'ring hind:
An idle life's unsafe and sinful,
But diligence is often gainful;
Pray for a blessing from above;
Submit to the good will of Jove;
Be ay content in poverty,
Grateful as in prosperity:
And when I'm sleeping in the dust,
You'll find my counsel good, I trust.”

Now mark what must not be forgot,
This worthy gentleman of note
Had an old tenant in his ground,
Whose counsel was ay safe and sound:
His name was Caution; and had long
Liv'd in the place: he was not young;
For I'm inform'd he was not under
Twelve years, of being ag'd two hunder.
It passes for a true relation,
That he's the oldest in the nation:
Some say Auld-wont his wife, was more,
Before she wed him, than six-score.

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Be that as 'twill, I'm very sure,
They were no churls, nor were they poor:
They lov'd it well to see folk thrive:
They many children kept alive,
With bits and sops about their table:
As for the poor, that were not able
To work, they never went away
Without sufficient alms one day.

But some with grudging eyes beheld
His prosp'rous state, with envy fill'd,
Thus to insult the honest man,
In public companies began:

“There's Caution, tax-man of Burnhaugh,
Inclos'd with weeds of arns and saugh;
Securely sits both warm and dry,
Nothing oppress'd with poverty;
Yet he deals more unto the poor,
Than all the increase of our store:
And as an oracle of fame,
All fools admire his very name;
Yea, our good laird, though he be wise,
With wiser Caution must advise,
Concerning his rash son and heir,
That rambles wasting here and there;
Yet both their wits can ne'er contrive
A mean to make that young man thrive.”

Thus, when he heard their taunts about,
His patience was so much worn out,
That, like a clock run near the hour,
He did assume the speaking power.

“My friends, (said he), what though I be
A tax-man? doubtless so are ye;
Each of you in as good possession,
Though not content with your condition:
And what though I sit dry and warm?
Can that to you do any harm?
Use means, with frugal honesty,
And then you'll sit as snug as I.

143

'Tis true, and must needs be confess'd,
With poverty I'm not oppress'd;
But that's the blessing of kind Heav'n,
That to me such good luck has giv'n.
As for my giving to the poor,
More than the increase of your store,
I, by experience, see 'tis plain,
The more I give, the more I gain.
Ay since I held my tenement,
Each year thereof I paid my rent,
And had enough to give and take;
Which freely, for the Sender's sake,
I frankly dealt unto the poor,
That call'd for pity at my door:
Oft have I prov'd that true record,
Who gives the poor lends to the Lord;
But now there's few within the land
Will trust a farthing in his hand.

But some think neither sin nor shame,
To play some guineas at a game;
Or at horse-races wagers lay,
Which shall be foremost, black or bay:
And some to hunting are so glu'd,
And love so much the sport renew'd;
That they, to purchase dogs and hounds,
Will forfeit honour, wealth, and grounds.
Some love to gratifie their eyes
With new-form'd plans and rarities
Of building, planting: and there be
That study schemes of husbandrie,
Improving grounds to such a pitch,
Intending thereby to make rich;
Some venture on the mighty main,
Some unknown treasure to obtain:
Some face the awful scenes of war,
To gain the trophies of a scar;
Ambitious madness men pursue,
But there's but few, a very few,

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That walk in any ways conform
To Heaven's laws, or them perform:
Few when they're blest with wealth in store,
Deign to take pity on the poor.

But Heaven's Judge, that judgeth right,
Seeing such wretches, in his sight,
Consume his lib'ral gifts to feed
Their lusts, while his poor people need
To be supplied; then will not he
On such at last avenged be?
Yea, we may daily see and hear,
That those in honour who shin'd clear,
The only top-props of the place,
Are turn'd to ruin and disgrace:
By the effects, I guess the cause
Has been their breach of Heaven's laws.
For those in the superior rank,
Do ruin inferiors point blank:
And equals, one another would
Devour with pleasure, if they could:
For pride, intemp'rance, and oppression,
Abound so much in all the nation;
Landlords oppress'd by government,
Make them again rax out their rent,
Their tenants to oppress; and they
Cause their sub-tenants to obey,
And serve with rigour at command,
Like Israelites in Egypt-land:
Like them they over-burden'd cry
To Heav'n against their tyranny.
Jove, who is an impartial Judge,
He hears the poor, he's their refuge;
And their oppressors will annoy;
And with just judgment them destroy.
Witness the late rebellion, which
Swept off oppressors poor and rich;
And if those that are left behind
Be to inferiors so unkind,

145

Just judgment sure will find them out,
And that ere long, I make no doubt.”

Then spake Laborious in a rage,
“Men have been plagu'd in ev'ry age,
With you, and scoundrels such as you,
Who 'bout nonsense make such a-do:
Such senseless tattling fools imagine,
That we know nothing of religion,
Because we don't observe the motions
Of their poor whining vulgar notions.
Your scoundrel kind, Sir, and the poor,
Are nations' plagues, I'm very sure;
For they're inclin'd to idleness,
Under pretences of distress;
And you, as senseless, them supply,
Under pretence of piety,
Such feigned hospitality
Is an inlet to villainy,
And gives encouragement to such,
As on the public would encroach,
Like drones that in the hive abide,
And eat what frugal bees provide,”

Then Caution said, “My friends, allow
That I but once more speak to you:
I only give what God gives me,
To those that are in poverty;
And by experience I perceive,
The more I give, the more I have:
While you, with all your frugal cunning,
Through various schemes and arts are running,
Contriving how you may oppress
The poor, and put them in distress;
And to maintain your pride and lust,
To ev'ry man you are unjust;
To brutes, and to the earth itself,
Intending to increase your pelf.
You think it good and lawful thrift,
The King and government to shift

146

Of their just tributary rent,
On cov'tousness you are so bent.

Your equals daily you envy,
Because they're not in poverty;
And if you can, by slight or might,
You will deprive them of their right.

As for inferiors, do you not
As much as if you'd cut their throat?
You daily in a study dive
How to cut off their means to thrive,
How to impair their privileges;
And with superior awe, obliges
Them rig'rously to serve, while you
Frown on them with contracted brow;
Coarse victuals, and not half you give,
Of what they were wont to receive.

As touching beasts, you over-drive them,
And often of their food deprive them;
Were't not their price you fear to lose,
Daily to death you would them toss:
Thus brutes feel your oppressing hand,
And grant to answer your command.

To earth unjust, like atheists, you
Manure, and dig, and dung, and plow;
Intending maugre Jove to have
More increase than you can receive.
There's scarce a bit of ancient swaird,
Which our forefathers ever spar'd
For common pasture to the poor,
But you must tear up and manure.
Such things as these you may approve;
But curs'd is he land-marks remove:
And, notwithstanding all the ways
You take to gain, your stock decays;
As witness ev'ry month we hear;
Yea, daily from the gazetteer;
Your fair estates expos'd to sale,
To keep your bodies out of jail.

147

By what is said, I don't intend,
The least among you to offend:
But truth is truth, think what you will;
I say no more; my friends, farewel.”

The end of the first Canto.

CANTO II.

When to the antipodes the sun,
With expeditious haste, had run,
And left our horizon to borrow
Light by reflection till to-morrow;
The lab'ring hinds from toil retire,
To rest and tattle by the fire,
And with the lasses interween
Their rustic sangs and jests between;
While burghers and rich farmers chuse
In taverns to tipple and carouse.

Our gentleman of whom we spake,
Another better course did take:
Rather than tipple at ale or wine,
He'd meditate on things divine;
How happy man was at the first,
And by what means he was accurs'd;
What mischiefs mankind had invented,
Since Eve their happiness prevented;
How mankind, worse than tygers, would
Devour each other if they could,
And for greed of this vain world's good,
Would shed each other's precious blood;
Like savage brutes of the male kind,
When they a lustful female find,
The strongest would destroy the rest,
To share alone the brutal feast.
While other gentlemen were plotting,
How oppression might get footing,
He, like a grave and sound divine,
To rules his conduct did confine:

148

From morning till it was near ten,
He gave himself to thinking; then
From that time, till it was near two,
His public matters did pursue:
From two to six the fields he walk'd,
And oft with honest Caution talk'd:
Then, chagrin humours to suppress,
He with his wife would play at chess;
And all the pledges that they laid,
Were easy won, and easy paid,
A bottle of good ale or beer,
With which the winner made good cheer;
A cheaper purchase drowth to quench,
Than rich Canary wines or punch.

But, as good men oft evil see
Before it come, e'en so did he:
He saw his son, with sad reflection,
So prodigal set on distraction,
That made him think 'twould be his fate
To waste and ruin his estate,
That he had scrap'd and kept together,
Like a discreet and prudent father.

Then to his virtuous spouse he said,
“My dear, when we in dust are laid,
That worthless wretched son of ours
So high above our income tow'rs,
He'll shortly make, for ought I think,
Our name and honour both extinct.”

Said she, “Good husband, there's no hope;
He must get leave to take his scope.
E'en let him drink as he is brewing;
He'll think on't when he comes to ruin.
Our frail and tott'ring bodies must
Within a little turn to dust;
Let worldly pomp and honours go,
Since Providence will have it so;
It will not break our hearts when we
The desolation shall not see.”

149

Thus were the ancient pair resign'd,
Because they could not change the mind
Of their untoward rakish son,
Who out of course so far had run.

Then the wise lady sent for Caution,
And told him that she had a motion
How to relieve her graceless son,
When he his outmost course had run:
But, “Honest friend, I know you must,
By course of nature, turn to dust:
You have a servant, as I hear,
Whose name is Secret, bring him here;
I will commit to him a letter,
Containing all the secret matter;
I'll take his oath that he'll conceal it,
And to no mortal e'er reveal it,
Until he see his extreme need,
Then may he break the same and read.

Then Secret came, to whom she gave
The letter seal'd, and bade him have
A special care to keep it close,
And unto none the same expose,
Until the time my son you see
In extreme need and misery.

“Madam, (said he), I shall obey
Whate'er your Ladyship shall say,
As I shall answer at the last
To heaven's Judge for what is past.”

Now Death approach'd the ancient pair;
They died, and left their rambling heir,
Who quickly wasted his estate,
And so involv'd himself in debt,
That night nor day he could not rest,
Pursu'd with captions, and oppress'd
To such a desperate degree,
He knew not how nor where to flee:
Two creditors, nam'd Trust and Outly,
Chas'd and assaulted him so stoutly,

150

That made him to appoint a day,
To give his whole estate away.

But, in the time of that respite,
He thought to put on them a bite;
And bargain'd with one Burgher, who
Inclin'd he should outwit them: so
Having agreed, he gave him all,
His rights and titles, great and small;
And so to make a full conclusion,
He gave him a sole disposition.

But, wicked chance! just in the nick,
As Burgher counted out his tick,
Trust and Outly came in view,
And forthwith to the table drew.
“Better (said they) to be a guest
At ending of a plenteous feast,
Than the beginning of a fray,
As we have been by chance this day.”

Then said rich Burgher, “All is one
To me, however way 'tis gone,
Th'estate is mine,—let Waste-all now
His nearest and best course pursue.”

Then Waste-all said, “Good Sirs be kind;
Since you to ruin me design'd,
You've got my 'state, now let me have
My bonds return'd, is all I crave.”

Said Trust and Outly courteously,
“That, Sir, is what we should deny,
Because we are not yet paid out:
But we will get no more we doubt;
Therefore we frankly here return them,
And if you please, Sir, you may burn them:
Besides, to shew a disposition
Generous to your low condition,
So far your credit to enlarge,
We grant an ample free discharge.”

Then Waste-all said, “I must conclued,
Your proffers are both kind and good:

151

But nothing now can me avail;
I'm fit for nothing but a jail;
Nay, not for that, but rather live
As an abandon'd fugitive,
Be the reproach of all mankind,
Unstable both in place and mind.”

Then Jenny said, all bath'd in tears,
“Long since, alas! these were my fears,
If you were e'er involv'd in care,
You would be driven to despair.
To reason sure it is contrary:
Dear brother, join the military;
Though there you serve in lowest station,
You are a man of education;
Behave yourself, and you will be
Advanc'd to a more high degree.
Howe'er, you ought to be content;
'Tis your past pride's just punishment.
Why should a living man complain?
Wealth may depart and come again:
For my part, I'm content to serve
In meanest station, e'er I starve;
Let's make the best o't that we can:
I'll play the woman, you the man.
Good Caution was our father's friend,
And counsellor unto the end;
Apply to him; he'll not despise you,
Tho' you are poor, but will advise you:
He's not so partial, to respect
The rich and great, and poor neglect.”

Then Waste-all said, “My sister dear,
I to your counsel shall give ear.”

To Caution's house they went full wo,
Where was Laborious come, also
His wife, and Burgher, Trust and Outly,
All came to hear poor Waste-all's outcry,
Who tore his hair and clothes so fine,
And cry'd, “I've forfeit all for wine,

152

For wantonness and frolic game,
For which I now must live in shame.
My pious parents I despis'd,
Was by lewd company entic'd,
While there was ought into my pocket:
But by all these I now am mocked.”

Some said, he's mad; some said, he'll mend:
Among them he had scarce a friend:
Some bade to get for him a whore,
And some bade kick him to the door:
Some bade give him a glass of wine;
Some bade him come, sit down and dine.
Ne'er was a man more far forlorn,
Sustaining so much loss and scorn.
Poor miserable prodigal,
I'll leave him that he may bewail
His own misfortune and miscarriage,
And treat of fair Miss Jenny's marriage.

The end of the second Canto.

CANTO III.

It seems there are but very few
Themselves from Cupid can rescue:
For he's suppos'd to shoot at random;
And sometimes hits by chance the grandame,
As well's the grandchild; all is one:
His arrows force resist can none,
Save eunuchs only; yea, a nun
The pow'r of love she cannot shun;
Nay, grief herself in vain must strive
The force of Cupid to deprive;
As witness here Miss Jenny fair,
Dejected with dishevel'd hair.
Young Secret sees a thousand charms
Inviting him into her arms;
Like to the sun, when he is shrouded,
When by a summer show'r o'erclouded;

153

His rays obliquely may encline,
Yet will they with great lustre shine;
So beauteous charms more sweet appears,
When they're bedew'd with tender tears.

Now Secret was a man reserv'd,
And honest Caution long had serv'd;
Yet must he feel the wounding dart
Of Cupid piercing to his heart,
That made him sigh and wry his brow,
And think, “What shall I say or do?
Can I attempt, in my low station,
A maid of birth and education?
Yet she's reduc'd, as well as me,
To an inferior degree.
I'll speak my mind, be as it will;
Perhaps with her I may prevail:
A proverb I have heard declare,
A faint heart wins no lady fair;
Wherefore I'll try my art to gain her,
For never would a lover fainer.”
So by degrees the lover drew
To have a private interview.

At last he found her all alone,
Fetching many a sigh and groan;
But like a lover he drew near,
Possess'd at once with hope and fear:
At last his courage won the day,
And to love's passion he gave way.
Said he—
—“Dear Mistress, why in tears?
Pray, cast aside your useless fears;
Learn with all ills to be content,
You can't foresee nor yet prevent.
You gave your brother good advice,
Take part thereof, if you are wise;
Submit to fate, slight worldly honour,
And never grudge at heaven's Donor.

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And if you please to condescend
Your future life with me to spend,
Perhaps you may be happy more
Than what you ever was before:
For tho' I'd been a lord or earl
And you but a poor country girl,
I could have lov'd none else but you,
Tho' I'd sought all the world thro'.

It is presumption to be sure,
For me to think I should procure
Your love, that you might live with me,
Who am but poor of low degree:
Yet I must needs my passion vent,
Which doth my breast so much torment;
If you disdain to pity me.
No pleasure more on earth I'll see.

Yet let me tell you, tho' I'm now
In equal circumstance with you,
Indeed I was as highly born;
Therefore torment me not with scorn:
For Jove of mortals doth dispose
(For reasons that himself best knows)
According as he hath a-mind,
The consequence we only find.”

Miss Jenny fetch'd a sigh, and said,
“Dear Sir, respect for you I had
Before you spake; but much more now,
Believing what you say is true.

But, tell me, Sir, e'er I consent,
How you resolve our settlement;
What business you mean to drive,
By which we may both live and thrive.”

“You need not fear, my dear, (said he)
Each year I wan a certain fee,
Most part whereof I have in store,
And Providence will send us more:
And my good master Caution will
I'm sure befriend us ever still;

155

From him we'll get a little house,
Till fortune more for us produce:
Therefore, my dear, give your consent,
And learn with me to be content.”

Said she, “It seems 'tis fate's decree
That you and I should wedded be:
And since that I am brought so low,
Great thanks I to my mother owe,
That taught me how to work, and gain
My daily bread, life to maintain.

But, Sir, your birth you seem'd to hint
Was unto me no detriment:
Please tell me out the story clear;
For fondly I the same would hear.”

“Ah! lovely fair, (said he) my birth
To me is now but little worth!
Which is the cause I have conceal'd it,
And in this place yet ne'er reveal'd it:
Yet I'll do ought at your command;
Therefore, my fairest, understand,
My father was an honest man,
Descended of a noble clan;
My mother also nothing less;
But on that I need lay no stress:
His name was Honest, and had not
In all his character a blot;
But to say truth, the country round
With him was scarcely ever sound,
Because his principles were quite
Reverse to what was their delight.
The good of others still he, sought,
And ever spake just as he thought:
He lov'd his sov'reign and his nation,
And hated bribery and oppression:
Laws and religion he supported,
And the disconsolate comforted:
E'en to be short, his life and fame
Agreed exactly with his name.

156

But in defence of lawful right,
As he upon a time did fight,
They took away his precious life;
With grief thereat soon died his wife:
I and my brother then were left,
Of comfort and all good bereft:
My brother older was than me,
And frolicsome to that degree,
That soon he wasted pack and purse,
And died soon after with remorse;
For gaming, balling, whoring, drinking,
He never had time left for thinking,
Till he, (ah poor unhappy wretch!),
Of both our fortunes made dispatch;
Which an untimely end brought on him,
And few or, none was to bemoan him:
I, griev'd at such a dismal case,
Did wander from my native place,
Not knowing where, with tardy motion;
At last I fell on honest Caution;
With whom I hir'd, and wrought ay since,
None knowing of my circumstance.
But now, methinks, kind Heaven smiles,
And all my future fears beguiles;
My sunken sp'rit revives again,
Like to clear shining after rain;
I'll frankly bear all ills of life,
Since I'll enjoy thee for my wife.”

“What you advance (said she) appears
The greatest wonder in mine ears,
I ever heard:—two never met
So equally unfortunate.
Let us to Heav'n ourselves resign;
The will of Jove shall ay be mine:
If Jove we love, serve, and obey,
He will support us every way;
And what he sees we really need,
Doubtless by him will be supplied,

157

But towards Caution's house let's go,
There's my poor brother full of woe.”

“But stay, dear Jenny, I have now
Thought on somewhat I have to shew
To your dear brother, now in tears,
That may prevent his future fears:
Go therefore, bring him here to me;
The sequel you shall after see.”

“Glad would I be, if any were
Could mitigate my brother's care.
But are you bound so to conceal it,
That unto me you can't reveal it?
By ties of love, Sir, I would crave
I might the welcome secret have.”

Said he, “Dear Jenny, rest content;
'Tis partly to get his consent,
That you and I should wedded be;
What's more, soon after you shall see.”

Then unto him in haste she went;
And said, “Dear brother, be content,
Go speak with Secret; lo! he waits
For you just now without the gates:
I'll in, and hear yon gentles talk,
While you and he shall take a walk.”

When she went in, Auld-use-and-wont
Did give her knee a hearty dunt;
And cry'd, “Miss Jenny, sit by me,
There's nane mair welcomer can be.”

Laborious took her in his arms,
And cry'd, “She has a thousand charms;
Great pity 'twere one should be lost,
That can of wit and beauty boast.”

Then Burgher said, “Good Sir, 'tis true,
And may prevented be by you;
For you are rich enough, and can
E'en help the girl to get a man.”

“Well jested, Burgher, on my word:
If you give ought, I'll give a third

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Above you, were it thousands more
Than what she could have had before.”

“Well then, (said Burgher), at this rate,
Although my wealth's not very great,
To manage you, I'll compliment
Miss Jenny with a whole year's rent
Of the estate I lately bought,
Or as much cash, I'll 'minish nought;
And to make good, Sir, what I said,
My obligation shall be had.”

Then Tipple said, “Reach me the cap,
I'll drink to Mistress Jane's good hap;
For beauty, wit, and honesty,
Procure good fortune certainly.”

“Na, na, (said Wont), I winna say
That Fortune favours good folk ay;
For aft the best do suffer need,
When warst are satisfied wi' bread.
I've seen a proud insulting knave,
With some few bags of cash, behave
As he had been a Lord himself;
So proud some are puff'd up with pelf:
While wit and virtue have been made
Oblig'd to beg their daily bread.”

Said Tipple, “Let her health go round;
I'm glad she has such favour found;
And wish her more and more success,
Till she exceed in happiness.”

“Come, come, (said Burgher), sign, Laborious;
This deed of ours must be notorious;
An hundred pounds I give and grant,
To ease Miss Jenny of her want;
And you shall give her two, no less,
According as you did profess.”

Laborious said, “I will be glad,
Since you for her such tidings had:
So here we both shall sign the band,
And give it freely in her hand.”

The end of the third Canto.

159

CANTO IV.

Here view young Secret and his Lady
Pregnant with news, to speak both ready:
But he, more quick, first silence broke,
And unto this effect he spoke;

“A letter I just now receiv'd,
At which I am both glad and griev'd:
Since here we have a little leisure,
My dear, I'll read it for your pleasure.”

To Mr Symon Secret, residing with Mr Caution in Burnhaugh, &c.

“My dearest nephew;------
------Understand,
So soon as this comes to your hand;
Come here to me, for I am lying
Most dang'rous ill, for certain dying:
My children all are dead and gone,
And I am only left alone;
And I bequeathe, as heirship due,
My whole estate and wealth to you;
Come take possession.—If you're spar'd,
See my corpse decently interr'd.
My feeble fingers scarce will sign
My name to this imperfect line:
Your loving uncle till I die
I shall remain,—
—Philanthropy.”

April 2d, 1753.

“My dear, these are sad news, (said she),
Since you must alter your degree,
I'll now be left to mourn my fate,
Nothing my grief can now abate:
In my low state you seem'd to prove
A comfort once to me, my love;

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But now from me you must depart,
And leave me here to break my heart.”

Said he, “My dear, pray cease to mourn:
To you I shortly shall return;
Then you and me shall never part,
Till death shall break our tender heart:
And, to confirm what here I say,
We'll marry e'er I go away:
Yet fain I would my uncle see,
If that I could before he die:
But freely could I part with all,
That mankind dear or valu'd call,
And that with the profoundest ease,
Before I you in ought displease;
For still I'll love and honour thee,
Since you have stoop'd to favour me.”

Miss Jenny, smiling through her tears,
Began to drop her former fears;
Said, “My dear Secret, Heaven smiles,
And all my grief and fear beguiles:
Can I then chuse but grateful be
To Jove, for all his care of me?
Yea, while I being have, I'll praise
Him, who from nothing did me raise,
And by his care and providence,
Provided for me ever since.
My portion was entirely lost,
And I had nought whereof to boast,
Save that I could work with my hands,
To satisfy Nature's demands:
But when my brother saw me mourn,
His heart did with compassion burn;
And said he would assign for me
A portion fitting my degree:
Burgher alledging that he would
Not give so much as well he could,
So rais'd his pride and emulation,
That made him speak forth in a passion,

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‘Pray, Burgher, what needs all this trouble?
‘Whate'er you give I'll give a double.’
Said Burgher, ‘There's no tie on me,
‘But Nature's self obliges thee;
‘She neither is my kin nor blood:
‘But, seeing she's both fair and good,
‘I'll give her wholly, out of hand,
‘A year's rent of her father's land;
‘And this the more engages me,
‘To get sufficient mends of thee.’
So they both sign'd the evidence,
More out of pride than good pretence.
Lo! here it is: I wish my brother,
Poor Waste all, had just such another;
I'm sure he would take better tent,
Than he has done, how it were spent.”

Then Secret said, “Some lucky chance
His broken fortune may advance:
But Laborious must not know,
What there's pass'd last betwixt us two;
For, since a portion he assigns you,
You marry must as he designs you.

But Waste-all is well satisfied,
That you just now shall be my bride;
And he is gone to call Miss John,
To join our hands, and make us one:
My master and my mistress, both,
To tell the secret, will be loth;
They shall be witnesses; and, when
Time will allow, let others ken.

To-morrow, by the break of day,
If health permit, I must away:
But do not grudge, my dear, nor mourn;
For very soon I will return.”

Then Secret went, the rest to warn
To meet him just now in the barn:
With that Miss John and Waste-all came,
That put Miss Jenny in a flame.

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But, gath'ring courage, in they went;
Both signified they were content:
So joining hands, Miss John them bless'd,
Declar'd them married, them dismiss'd.
Then, coming to the company,
One cry'd, “Miss Jenny, sit by me:
Welcome, Miss John; here take your place,
You're come in time to say the grace;
For Caution is so staunch a Whig,
And with the clergy turn'd so big,
That men in company cannot
Make free with him without a blot.”

Said Tipple, “That is very true;
For if we're merry we're call'd fu':
The like of him, if they were able,
Would make an honest man a rebel:
They prize their own fantastic wit,
Because the ball is at their foot:
This is a critical sad time,
When ev'ry thing is judg'd a crime
That's not conform to whiggish whims,
A pack of saucy d---ls limbs.”

Miss John replied, “Dear Madam, stop,
You should have better sense I hope,
Than ridicule against the laws,
Religion, and the good old cause.”

“The good old cause, alas! (said she),
Is lost, for any thing I see.
Our nation's constitutions all
Are chang'd, and no memorial
Of ancient privileges left;
Fram church and state all are bereft.
But, Sir, I'll not expect of you
My meaning you will misconstrue:
I love the government and laws,
I also love the good old cause;
I love religion when 'tis right,
And all conform to holy writ;

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But impositions on folks conscience
Are both ridiculous and nonsense.”

Miss John then whisp'ring, said to Caution,
“'Tis the drap drink that rais'd this motion:
Pray, Madam, drop this topic now;
For I suppose you please but few.”

“Content (said Tipple), I don't doubt;
For few love truth tell'd here about.”

The end of the fourth Canto.

CANTO V.

The western hills eclips'd the sun,
When his diurnal course was run;
Night spread her mantle o'er the fields,
And men resorted to their beilds;
So here in Caution's house was met
A company at table set:
For he a supper had prepar'd,
To comfort his young broken laird:
But by their wits all were not able
To make him sit down at the table;
For no doubt but he looked blate
When he had spent his whole estate.
Laborious call'd him, “graceless brother
As ever was born of a mother.”
Trust and Outly said, “no man
Will do ought better than he can;
Poor man! his case is right forlorn,
He gets now baith the skaith and scorn.”

Miss John said, “It is Jove's donation
That makes men manage with discretion.”
Then Caution said, “Dear Sir, I pray
Be pleas'd the company obey;
Sit down to supper: and take heart;
For wealth will come and will depart;
And if it leave not us, we must
Leave it e'er long, and turn to dust.”

164

Auld-wont said, “I have seen some men
Toil and turmoil with meikle pain;
Yet all fatigue they could endure,
They could not help their being poor:
And I have seen some men grow rich,
That were intended to be such;
And men of honour, wealth and pow'r,
That thought themselves in pomp-secure,
Brought to contempt, reproach and scorn,
And in the saddest case forlorn.
So that none needs to be cast down,
When fortune, after smiles, doth frown;
For she is but a ticklish jade,
And those that heed her freaks are mad.”

Miss Jenny said, “His management,
No doubt, his mind will now torment:
Yet he's in better case this way,
Than many gentlemen this day:
Who, skulking, dare not once come near
Unto their dwelling-house for fear;
And many of them stain and catch'd,
And soon disgracefully dispatch'd;
Their goods confiscate, and their lands
Are forfeit all in the king's hands:
Their generation's banish'd from
Their nation and their native home:
Whose fates much sadder are by far
Than those of my poor brother's are!
For tho' his lands be lost, yet he
May sojourn in the nation free,
And use what occupation may
By providence come in his way.”

Then Burgher smil'd; and, jesting, said,
“If Waste-all well-lin'd pockets had,
He'd sojourn with a better grace,
Than he can do in any place.”

Then Tipple said, “Sir Burgher, you
No doubt in this have spoken true;

165

But yet I think your manners scant,
To brag a poor man with his want.”

“Madam (said he) be not offended,
For it is more than I intended.”

“I think (said she) you needed not
Cast on his father's son a blot;
A better fellow than yourself
(For all your base ill-gotten pelf)
Would not have brag'd him at this rate,
For all your opulent estate:
For, poor man, his necessity
Was your curs'd opportunity;
Just like a covetous meal-monger,
That knows the poor must starve with hunger,
Unless they give what price he pleases:
Sir, by these means your wealth increases.”

Said Burgher, “It is women's failing,
They always love to fall a-railing:
Howe'er, your ladyship to fire,
I'll drive the jest a little higher;
Let Waste-all, if he pleases now,
Before the company and you,
Lay half my money in my hand,
I'll wholly give him back his land.”

Then Waste-all said, “Sir, here I hold
Your money shall to you be told;
I have it in my pocket here,
That will the bargain fully clear.”

Then all the company amaz'd,
On one another mutely gaz'd.

Miss John said, “Such another turn
I never saw since I was born:
Now, Burgher, you are fairly bit
By him you judg'd had little wit.”

Then said Auld-wont, “I think this day
Might be the subject of a play;
For better sport I never saw,
Since ever I came here awa:

166

It pleases me my master's son
Will yet (poor man!) enjoy his own;
I wish ilk ane could sing and say,
My ain's my ain, as he this day.”

Then Burgher said, “That's come in season;
I take you witness, she spake treason.

“Nay, hold! (said Caution) that's envy,
And in revenge you make a lye;
For, tho' she wish'd ilk ane their ain,
Is that a treasonable stain?

“Yes, yes (said Burgher) the pretender
Thinks Britain should to him surrender,
And set him king upon the throne,
Because he reckons it his own.”

Then said Auld-wont, “Sir, you, and others
That in strange cruelty are brothers;
You think no sin to cast aspersions
Upon well-meaning honest persons:
I had no thought of king nor queen,
And wonder what such catchers mean:
If ye were rightly serv'd, 'twere reason
You were convicted, Sir, of treason;
For when you say, the crown's his own,
What wants he more, Sir, but the throne?”

Laborious said, “I never dive
Who should be king, if I can thrive;
For kings and great men ne'er cast out
About the mean and vulgar rout:
So, when the king and government
Promotes our int'rest, I'm content.
I would not join, to change by force
This government, perhaps, for worse:
I think it is the height of nonsense,
When we have liberty of conscience,
Freedom of trade, and ev'ry thing
Can be expected of a king,
To wish a change, for one who may,
Perhaps, oppress us ev'ry way.”

167

“To me (said Caution) it appears
This bygone time, for many years,
Our clergy and our gentry, they,
For the most part have gone astray:
Cursing, whoring, gaming, drinking,
Was most the gentry's way of thinking;
And living at too high a rate,
By which they wasted their estate:
Oppression, pride and tyranny,
Covetousness and luxury,
Brought divine judgment on their heads,
To punish these their sinful deeds.

The careless clergy seldom mind,
Except on Sundays, things divine;
Their stipends, glebes and gardens, they
In their mind bear the greatest sway.”

Then said Miss John, “You are not blate
To scandalize us at this rate,”

“I speak in gen'rals, Sir, (said Caution)
Therefore do not mistake my notion;
For I'll say truth, you may expect it,
Where one is serious ten neglect it:
Let him to whom this charge is laid,
Come challenge me for what I said;
And then I'll know him to be one
At whom I meant to cast a stone;
Not knowing whom I hit until
He tell me that I have done ill.”

Miss Tipple said, “Let quarrels pass:
I'm dry; let's have the other glass.
Now Use-and-wont is an old wife;
Let's have a hist'ry of her life:
Say, why is she call'd Use-and-wont?
Or was she nam'd so from the font?

“That be my task, (Miss Jenny said):
Long since, when she was but a maid,
Her name was Custom, as is plain,
Attested by all honest men.

168

Long since, in our ancestors time,
When Use-and-wont was in her prime,
She was like to a statute book,
On which the nation all did look:
And every one was deem'd a fool,
That acted ought beyond the rule:
Then was no need for bills nor bands;
All bargains stood by shaking hands:
Then was no tacks on tenements;
Each paid their ancient usual rents:
None would adventure for his neck
His neighbour's tenement to take:
None entries paid for their possessions,
And none complained of oppressions.

And if they had, as neighbours will,
By virtue of the other gill,
Or sitting long beside the barrel,
About some trifle bred a quarrel,
And rais'd the topic to such height
As made them rise, perhaps, and fight;
And may be, with their rackless blows,
Broke others heads, or bled their nose:
Yet of Auld-wont they stood such awe,
That they durst never go to law;
But the next day, when sober men,
They took a pint, and 'gree'd again.

Besides, the lawyers did not plead
For love of gain, or for their bread:
Justice and equity was all
By which a cause could stand or fall:
Yea, ev'ry thing within the nation
Was done with justice and discretion.

But foreigners did us corrupt,
And our own customs we gave up,
And brought us fashions from abroad,
That to us at the first seem'd odd;
Yet we embrac'd them at the last,
And Use and wont away we cast.

169

Some were so mad for her confusion,
That they consulted a physician,
How they a ling'ring potion might
Give her, to wear her from their sight:
So when she was quite out of vogue,
And hunted sore thro' moor and bog,
As an exile she here remains;
And Caution thought her worth his pains
To chuse her for his wife, and they
Liv'd ever happy to this day:
And Use-and-wont has been her name
Ay since an exile she became;
Ay since the poor have miss'd her sore,
And many yet will miss her more.
But shortly there will come a time,
When they'll confess it was a crime:
For lo! the curse that shall attend
The wretches that did thus offend,
Will eat their substance out to nothing,
And leave them neither food nor clothing;
No landlord e'er shall thrive a day,
That helps to put Auld-wont away.”

Laborious all the rest invited,
To have all bargains whole compleated:
So when they'd finish'd ev'ry thing,
They look'd all chearful as the spring:
Ev'n Burgher, who beguil'd himself,
Look'd blithe, although he lost his pelf;
Caution no little was comforted,
To see the rest as they had sported.

Miss John said, “Caution, once you had,
If right I mind, a pretty lad:
Where is he now? since I came here,
I have not seen the boy appear.”

Said Caution, “Sir, he's gone to see
His uncle that is like to die.”

As they thus talk'd, they heard a horse
Come riding in the way with force:

170

By orders forth a servant ran,
And found it was a gentleman,
Who hastily began to speer,
“What company have you got here.”
Miss Jenny heard, and fast as able,
With Waste-all, rose up from the table,
And to the door like lightning flew;
Who, when of him she got a view,
She cry'd, “My love, my life, my all,
Light down, and into my arms fall.”

Then in they went; the rest amaz'd
All on the stranger strangely gaz'd:
When Caution came to understand
That it was Secret, caught his hand,
And said, “Sir Secret, by your dress,
I think we secrets may confess.”

“Yes, yes, (said he); and now I crave
I may her brother's pardon have;
For she's my wife now, come what will,
To have and hold for good and all.”

Said Caution, “Is your uncle dead?”
“Yes, Sir, (said Secret); in his stead
I now am heir, as sure's I'm here,
And that's two hundred pounds a year.”

Laborious said, “I am well pleas'd,
My brother and my sister's rais'd
To as great honour and degree,
As they were born both heirs to be:
I wish you joy with all my heart,
And so in peace we'll all depart,
Each one to our respective place,
And leave the young folk to solace
Themselves with love, till the next day
We meet again.” Here ends the play.

University of Virginia Library

The BROKEN LAIRD REPAIR'D; OR, The DYVOUR turn'd a THRIVER: