sporting, were annihilated. Indeed, to do justice to his elegant
and highly-finished friend, these pictures were the production of a
master-hand, and might have made a dangerous impression on minds
more stoical and determined than that of Bob's. The opera, theatres,
fashionable pursuits, characters, objects, &c. all became in succession
the subjects of his pen; and if lively description, blended with
irresistible humour and sarcastic wit, possessed any power of seduction,
these certainly belonged to Bob's honourable friend and relative, as an
epistolary correspondent. The following Stanzas were often recited by
him with great feeling and animation:--

Parent of Pleasure and of many a groan,
I should be loath to part with thee, I own,
Dear Life!
To tell the truth, I'd rather lose a _wife_,
Should Heav'n e'er deem me worthy of possessing
That best, that most invaluable blessing.
I thank thee, that thou brought'st me into being;
The things of this our world are well worth seeing;
And let me add, moreover, well worth feeling;
Then what the Devil would people have?
These gloomy hunters of the grave,
For ever sighing, groaning, canting, kneeling.
Some wish they never had been born, how odd!
To see the handy works of God,
In sun and moon, and starry sky;
Though last, not least, to see sweet Woman's charms,--
Nay, more, to clasp them in our arms,
And pour the soul in love's delicious sigh,
Is well worth coming for, I'm sure,
Supposing that thou gav'st us nothing more.
Yet, thus surrounded, Life, dear Life, I'm thine,
And, could I always call thee mine,
I would not quickly bid this world farewell;
But whether here, or long or short my stay,
I'll keep in mind for ev'ry day
An old French motto, "_Vive la bagatelle!_"
Misfortunes are this lottery-world's sad blanks;
Presents, in my opinion, not worth thanks.
The pleasures are the twenty thousand prizes,
Which nothing but a _downright ass_ despises.

It was not, however, the mere representations of Bob's friend, with
which, (in consequence of the important result,) we commenced our
chapter, that produced the powerful effect of fixing the wavering mind
of Bob--No, it was the air--the manner--the _je ne sais quoi_, by which
these representations were accompanied: the curled lip of contempt, and
the eye, measuring as he spoke,