fely at home. Sparkle bade them
adieu, and proceeded to Bond-street; and Tom and Bob sought the repose
of the pillow.

It is said that "Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast," and it
cannot but be allowed that the _Yo heave ho_, of our Sailors, or the
sound of a fiddle, contribute much to the speed of weighing anchor.

It is an indisputable fact that there are few causes which more
decidedly form, or at least there are few evidences which more clearly
indicate, the true character of a nation, than its Songs and Ballads. It
has been observed by the learned Selden, that you may see which way the
wind sets by throwing a straw up into the air, when you cannot make the
same discovery by tossing up a stone or other weighty substance. Thus it
is with Songs and Ballads, respecting the state of public feeling, when
productions of a more elaborate nature fail in their elucidations: so
much so that it is related of a great Statesman, who was fully convinced
of the truth of the observation, that he said, "Give me the making of
the national Ballads, and I care not who frames your Laws." Every day's
experience tends to prove the power which the _sphere-born_ Sisters of
harmony, voice, and verse, have over the human mind. "I would rather,"
says Mr. Sheridan, "have written Glover's song of 'Hosier's Ghost' than
the Annals of Tacitus."~160~~

CHAPTER XII

O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis!
Sure such a town as this was never seen;
Mayor, common councilmen, citizens and populace,
Wand'ring from Poplar to Turnham Green.

Chapels, churches, synagogues, distilleries and county banks--
Poets, Jews and gentlemen, apothecaries, mountebanks--
There's Bethlem Hospital, and there the Picture Gallery;
And there's Sadler's Wells, and there the Court of Chancery.

O such a town, such a wonderful Metropolis,
Sure such a town as this was never seen!
O such a town, and such a heap of carriages,
Sure such a motley group was never seen;
Such a swarm of young and old, of buryings and marriages,
All the world seems occupied in ceaseless din.

There's the Bench, and there's the Bank--now only take a peep at her--
And there's Rag Fair, and there the East-London Theatre--
There's St. James's all so fine, St. Giles's all in tattery,
Where fun and frolic dance the rig from Saturday to Saturday.
O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis,