oozing out of his fingers' ends, and the comfortable suggestion that "there is snug lying in the abbey," will last as long as comedy exists. Perhaps the best description of Bath in its hey-day of fashion and popularity a century ago, is to be found in the verse of Anstey, burlesque although it be. "The New Bath Guide," written in a light and tripping manner, well adapted to the subject and little previously known, had an immense vogue in its day; a vogue all the greater that some of the characters were supposed to be real, and the poignancy of personal satire was added to general pleasantry. It is so far forgotten by the general reader, that the extracts upon which I may venture will probably be as good as new. I do not apologize for a few omissions rendered necessary by the better manners of our times. The plan of the work is very simple: Mr. Simkin Blunderhead, the good-humoured, gullible, but not silly heir of a north country knight, is sent with his sister Prudence, his cousin Jenny, and their waiting-maid, to drink the waters and look at the world. The story is told in letters from Simkin to his mother, and from Miss Jenny to a female friend. We are all at a wonderful distance from home, I sent for a doctor the very next day; And the doctor was pleased, though so short was the warning, To come to our lodgings the very next morning. He looked very thoughtful and grave to be sure, And I said to myself-There's no hopes of a cure! But I thought I should faint when I saw him, dear mother, Feel my pulse with one hand, with a watch in the other; Then follows a good deal of medical detail and of doctor's Latin very comically dragged into the verse. In a subsequent letter, Mr. Anstey, who seems to have had as great a horror of the faculty as Molière himself, gives a report of a consultation and its consequences: If ever I ate a good supper at night, I dreamt of the devil and waked in a fright; And the nurse was so willing my health to restore, So they all met together and thus began talking: This Stamp Act no doubt might be good for the crown, From the ill-blood and humours of Bourbon and Spain." But at present my bowels have need of physicians, And pity the state of my stomach and nerves.” About administration, Newcastle and Bute, We've another bad case to consider at one." So thus they brushed off, each his cane at his nose, I could not conceive what the deuce 'twas she meant, His wig had the luck an emulsion to meet Having turned out the doctors, the whole party improve both in health and spirits; Miss Jenny picks up a military lover, under whose auspices Simkin turns beau : No city, dear mother, this city excels In charming sweet sounds both of fiddles and bells, For a wedding, or judge, or the birth of a king ; But I found 'twas for me that the good-natured people Rang so hard that I thought they would pull down the steeple; So I took out my purse as I hate to be shabby And paid all the men when they came from the abbey. Tabitha Rust, the waiting-maid, takes a bath : 'Twas a glorious sight to behold the fair sex Dean Spavin, Dean Mangy and Doctor De Squirt This description of the two sexes bathing in common in the chief water-drinking place of England so recently as during the American War, would seem incredible if it were not confirmed by an almost contemporary writer, Smollett, in his last, and incomparably his best novel, "The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker." Our friend Simkin prepares for a ball: Thank Heaven, of late, my dear mother, my face is For I ride in a chair with my hands in a muff, And have bought a silk coat, and embroidered the cuff; But the weather was cold, and the coat it was thin, So the taylor advised me to line it with skin. |