Come all you gay fellows, so merry and witty, Ye Somerset lads of the elegant city, Ye sons of the turf who delight in a race, And ye Nimrods of Bath who are fond of the chase; Come join us, and pledge us, like true brothers all, At old Matthew Temple's, the Castle and Ball.

Will Partridge, the father of sports, in the chair, With honest George Wingrove will welcome you there, While Handy, who once on two horses could ride, And merry Jack Bedford will meet you beside; Then for sport or for spree, or to keep up the ball, We've an excellent fellow, you'll own, in Bill Hall.

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Captain Beaven, a yeoman of merry renown, Will keep up the joke with the gay ones from town, While, if you'd go off in a canter or speed, You've only to take a few lessons with Mead; Then Sharland can suit every beau to a T, So haste to the Castle, ye lovers of glee.

Sweet Margerim, clerk of the course, will be found With any young sportsman to trot o'er the ground, Though his Honesty, since at Wells races 'twas tried, It must be admitted, has bolted aside; The Newcombe's are good at all sports in the ring, While, like Chanticleer, Hunt the c.o.c.ker will sing.

Jack Langley, the fam'd 'Squire Western of Bath, A jolly fox-hunter, who's fond of a laugh, With mellow Tom Williams, of Brewers a pair, Are the baccha.n.a.ls form'd for to banish dull care; Then haste to the Castle, ye true merry sprites, Where the song, and the chase, and the fancy delights.

Give a host more to name of the jovial and free, That my song would extend till to-morrow d'ye see: But a truce to particulars; take them all round, There's nothing in Bath like themselves to be found; Where harmony, friendship, and mirth can combine, The pleasures of life with kind hearts and good wine.

And in good truth, there is no place within the dominions of King Bladud, where the social man can find more cheerful companions, the sporting man more kindred spirits, and the lovers of the characteristic and the humorous meet with a greater variety of genuine eccentricity, unalloyed with any baser or offensive material. Matthew Temple himself is a great original, pure Somerset, perfectly good-natured, ever ready to oblige, and although for many years the commander-in-chief of the Castle, is yet in all the chicanery of his

~302~~

profession, and the usual obtrusiveness of a landlord, as unlike the generality of his brethren as a raw recruit is to an effective soldier.

Old Master William Partridge is also worthy of notice as the father of the turf, and then if you would ride to hounds, no man in Bath can mount you better, or afford you such good corn, great attentions, and a warm stall for a prime hack. Rich in anecdote, and what is still better, with a charitable purse and a worthy heart, there are few men who have earned for themselves more respect in this life, or deserve it better, than William Handy, Esq. the once celebrated equestrian, who having realized a handsome competency, retired, some years since, to Bath, to enjoy his _otium c.u.m dignitate_: here, at an advanced age, with all the spirits of youth, and a lively interest in every thing relating to sporting, you will meet with the character I have described; and, take my word for it, will not be disappointed in the likeness. Among the bon vivants of Sportsmans' Hall I must not omit that care-killing soul Captain Beaven, whose easy flow of good-humour and love of good sport is not less conspicuous than his love for a pretty la.s.s, and his delight in a good song and a cheerful gla.s.s. Honest George Wingrove, a wealthy baker, and the patriarch of the room, will never prove a crusty customer, I am sure; and if that good-looking fellow Mead, the riding-master, does sometimes "o'erstep the modesty of nature" in his mode of addressing his pupils, adopting the familiar style of addressing them by their christian name--as, for instance, "set upright, Sally; more forward, Eliza; keep your rein-hand more square, Ellen;" and soon; he hath, however, yet many good points that amply compensate for this perverseness of habit. Among the genuine good ones, the real thing, as the sporting phrase has it, not a biped in Bath beats Tom Williams, who, agreeable to our Eton Gradus, is good at every thing: a more jovial, worthy-hearted, respected soul breathes not within the merry court of King Bladud, and very ~303~~few there that can rival him in a good horse, a long run, or as a lively companion. Tom is married to the sister of Bartley, the comedian, and carries with him into private life the estimation which ever attends him in public. For a rum story, a bit of real life, or a roguish joke, who shall excel Jack Bedford? And then, if your honour would knock the b.a.l.l.s about, why "Jack's the lad" to accommodate you. And little Bill Hall, who keeps the Kingston billiard-rooms, will be most happy to make his best bow to you without any view to the mace. But, i' faith, I am sketching away here in Sportsman's Hall at old Matthew Temple's, and could continue so to do for another chapter; forgetting, as Transit says, that we have yet to traverse the whole city of Bath through, spying into the vagaries and varieties of the more polished, and taking a slight occasional glance at the lowest grade of society, in order to diversify and keep up the chiaroscuro of our pictures.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page303]

Merry reader, for such I hope thou art, we have now travelled on for nearly two years together; and many a varied scene in life's pilgrimage have we set before you, from the gilded dome of royalty to the humble shed of the Emeralder; but our visit to Bath will afford you a richer treat than aught that has yet preceded it. It was when the party broke up at Temple's, and that was not before the single admonition of old father Time had sounded his morning bell, that a few _bon vivants_ of the Castle, accompanied by the English Spy and his merry friends, sallied forth in quest of strange adventure; for it must be admitted, that in the elegant city

"Candles and ladies' eyes oft shine most bright, When both should be extinguish'd for the night."

A fancy ball at the Upper Rooms on this night had attracted all the elegance, fashion, and beauty to be found within the gay circle of pleasure, and thither ~304~~we bent our steps, having first provided ourselves with the necessary introductions. The scene above all others in the fascination of gay life and the display of female charms is a fancy ball; a species of entertainment better suited to the modest character of our countrywomen than the masquerade, and, in general, much better liked in this country, where the masked entertainment, unless in private, is always avoided by females of rank and character. One of the most amusing scenes which first presented itself to our notice on approaching the entrance to the rooms was the eager anxiety and determined perseverance of the liveried Mercuries and Bath dromedaries, alias chairmen, to procure for their respective masters and mistresses a priority of admission; an officious zeal that was often productive of the most ludicrous circ.u.mstances, and, in two or three instances, as far as indispensable absence from the pleasures of the night could operate, of the most fatal effects. A well-known city beau, who had been at considerable expense in obtaining from London the splendid dress of a Greek prince, was completely upset and rolled into the kennel by his chairmen running foul of a sedan, in which Lord Molyneaux and his friend Lord Ducie had both crammed themselves in the dress of Tyrolese chieftains. The Countess of D--------, who personated Psyche, in attempting to extricate herself from an unpleasant situation, in which the obstinacy of her chairmen had placed her, actually had her glittering wings torn away, unintentionally, from her shoulders by the rude hand of a Bath rustic, whose humanity prompted him to attempt her deliverance. Old Lady L--------, in the highest state of possible alarm, from feeling her sedan inclining full twenty degrees too much to the right, popped her head up, and raising the top part of the machine, screamed out most piteously for a.s.sistance, and on drawing it back ~305~~again, tore off her new head-dress, and let her false front shut in between the flap of the chair, by which accident, all the beautiful Parisian curls of her ladyship were rendered quite flat and uninteresting. An old gentleman of fortune, who was suffering under hypochondriacal affection, and had resolved to attempt Sir John Falstaff, received the end of a sedan pole plump in his chest, by which powerful application he was driven through the back part of the machine, and effectually cured of "_la maladie imaginaire_" by the acuteness of a little real pain. The flambeau of a spruce livery servant setting fire to the greasy tail of a Bath chairman's surtout produced a most awkward _rencontre_, by which a husband and wife, who had not been a.s.sociated together for some years, but were proceeding to the ball in separate chairs, were, by the accidental concussion of their sedans in a moment of alarm, actually thrown into each other's arms; and such was the gallantry of the gentleman, that he marched into the ball-room bearing up the slender frame of his heretofore forsaken rib, to whom he from that time has become reunited. The lady mayoress of the city was excessively indignant on finding her preeminence of _entree_ disputed by the wife of a Bristol butcher; while the chair of the master of the ceremonies was for some time blocked in between the sedans of two old tabbies, whose expressions of alarm, attempts at faintings, and little flights of scandal, had so annoyed the poor M. C. that when he entered the ball-room, he felt as irritable as a tantalized lover between two female furies. In short, the scene was rich in amus.e.m.e.nt for the group of merry hearts who had left the Castle in quest of adventure; and while we were enjoying the ludicrous effects produced by the jostling of the sedans, my friend Transit had sketched the affair in his usual happy style, and designated it thus: ~306~

THE BATTLE OF THE CHAIRS.

"The chairs are order'd, and the moment comes, When all the world a.s.semble at the rooms."

Ill.u.s.tration: page306]

For the ball-room itself, it was the most splendid scene that the magic power of fancy could devise. The variety of characters, the elegance of the dresses, and the beauty of the graceful fair, joined to their playful wit and accomplished manners, produced a succession of delights which banished from the heart of man the recollection of his mortal ills, and gave him, for the pa.s.sing time, a semblance of Elysian pleasures. The rooms are admirably calculated for this species of entertainment, and are, I believe, the largest in England; while the excellent regulations and arrangements adopted by the master of the ceremonies to prevent any of those unpleasant intrusions, too often admitted into mixed a.s.semblies, deserved the highest commendation. It is from scenes of this description that the writer on men ~307~~and manners extracts his characters, and drawing aside from the mirth-inspiring group, contemplates the surrounding gaieties, noting down in his memory the pleasing varieties and amusing anecdotes he has there heard; pleasantries with which at some future time he may enliven the social circle of his friends, or by reviving in print, recall the brightest and the best recollections of those who have partic.i.p.ated in their gay delights.

"In this distinguish'd circle you will find Many degrees of man and woman kind."

And as I am here "life's painter, the very Spy o' the time," I shall endeavour to sketch a few of the leading Bath characters; most of the gay well-known being upon this occasion present, and many an eccentric star shining forth, whose light it would be difficult to encounter in any other circle. The accompanying view of the rooms by Transit will convey a correct idea of the splendour of the entertainment, and the fascinating appearance of the a.s.sembled groups.

"Ranged on the benches sit the lookers-on, Who criticise their neighbours one by one; Each thinks herself in word and deed so bless'd, That she's a bright example for the rest.

Numerous tales and anecdotes they hatch, And prophesy the dawn of many a match; And many a matrimonial scheme declare, Unknown to either of the happy pair; Much delicate discussion they advance, About the dress and gait of those who dance; One stoops too much; and one is so upright, He'll never see his partner all the night; One is too lazy; and the next too rough; This jumps too high, and that not high enough.

Thus each receives a pointed observation, Not that it's scandal--merely conversation."

A three months' sojournment at Bath had afforded my friend Eglantine an excellent opportunity for ~308~~estimating public character, a science in which he was peculiarly well qualified to shine; since to much critical ac.u.men was joined a just power of discrimination, aided by a generosity of feeling that was ever enlivened by good-humoured sallies of playful satire. To Horace Eglantine, I may apply the compliment which Cleland pays to Pope--he was incapable of either saying or writing "a line on any man, which through guilt, through shame, or through fear, through variety of fortune, or change of interest, he would ever be unwilling to own." It too often happens that the cynic and the satirist are themselves more than tinged with the foibles which they so severely censure in others. "You shall have a specimen of this infirmity," said Horace, "in the person of Peter Paul Pallet; a reverend gentleman whom you will observe yonder in the dress of a Chinese mandarin. Some few years since this pious personage took upon himself the task of lashing the prevailing follies of society in a satire ent.i.tled Bath Characters, and it must be admitted, the work proves him to have been a fellow of no ordinary talent; but an unfortunate amour with the wife of a reverend brother, which was soon after made public, added to certain other peculiarities and eccentricities, have since marked the satirist himself as one of the most prominent objects for the just application of his own weapon."

Come hither, Paul Pallet, your portrait I'll paint: You're a satirist, reverend sir, but no saint.

But as some of his characters are very amusing, and no doubt very correct portraits of the time, 1808, my readers shall have the advantage of them, that they may be the better able to contrast the past with the present, and form their own conclusions how far society has improved in morality by the increase of methodism, the influx of evangelical breathings, or the puritanical pretensions of bible societies. I shall pa.s.s by his description of the club; gaming ever was ~309~~and ever will be a leading fashionable vice, which only poverty and ruin can correct or cure. The clergy must, however, be greatly delighted at the following picture of the cloth, drawn by one of their holy brotherhood. "The Bath church," says the satirist, "is filled with croaking ravens, chattering jays, and devouring cormorants; black-headed fanatics and white-headed 'dreamers of dreams;' the aqua-fortis of mob politics, and the mawkish slip-slop of modern divinity; rank cayenne pepper, and genuine powder of post!" Really a very flattering description of our clerical comforters, but one which, I lament to say, will answer quite as well for 1826, with, perhaps, a little less of enthusiasm in the composition, and some faint glimmerings of light opposed to the darkness of bigotry and the frauds of superst.i.tion. Methodism is said to be on the wane--we can hear no better proof that true religion and good sense are coming into fashion. The sketch of Mrs. Vehicle, by the same hand, is said to have been a true copy of a well-known female gambler; it is like a portrait of Sir Joshua Reynolds, a picture worthy of preservation from its intrinsic merits, long after the original has ceased to exist: how readily might it be applied to half a score card-table devotees of the present day! "Observe that _ton_ of beauty, Mrs. Vehicle, who is sailing up the pa.s.sage, supported like a n.o.bleman's coat of arms by her amiable sisters, the virtuous widow on one side, and the angelic Miss Speakplain on the other. By my soul! the same roses play upon her cheeks now that bloomed there winters ago, the natural tint of that identical patent rouge which she has enamelled her face with for these last twenty years; her gait and presence, too, are still the same--_Vera incessa patuit Dea_; she yet boasts the enchanting waddle of a Dutch Venus, and the modest brow of a Tower-hill Diana. Ah, Jack, would you but take a few lessons from my old friend ~310~~at the science of shuffle and cut, you would not rise so frequently from the board of green cloth, as you now do, with pockets in which the devil might dance a saraband without injuring his shins against their contents. Why, man, she is a second Breslaw with a pack; I have known her deal four honours, nine trumps to herself three times in the course of one rubber, and not cut a higher card to her adversary than a three during the whole evening. Sensible of her talents, and of the impropriety of hiding them in a napkin, she chose Bath, independence, and her own skill in preference to a country parsonage, conjugal control, and limited pin-money. Her _caro sposo_ meanwhile retired to his living; and now blesses himself on his escape from false deals, odd tricks, and every honour but the true one."

One more sketch, and I have done; but I cannot pa.s.s by the admirable portrait of a Bath canonical, "Jolly old Dr. Mixall, rosy as a ripe tomata, and round as his own right orthodox wig,

'With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies!'

Awful and huge, he treads the ground like one of Bruce's moving pillars of sand! What a dark and deep abyss he carries before him--the grave insatiate of turtle and turbot, red mullet and John Dories, haunches and pasties, claret, port, and home-brewed ale! But his good-humour alone would keep him at twenty stone were he to cease larding himself for a month to come; and when he falls, may the turf lie lightly on his stomach! Then shall he melt gently into rich manure;

'And fat be the gander that feeds on his grave.'"

"But now for the moderns," said Horace; "for the enchanting fair,

'Whose snow-white bosoms fascinate the eye, Swelling in all the pride of _nudity_;

~311~~

The firm round arm, soft cheek, and pouting lip, And backs exposed below the jutting hip; To these succeed dim eyes, and wither'd face, And pucker'd necks as rough as s.h.a.green cases, But whose kind owners, hon'ring Bladud's ball, Benevolently show their little all.'"

But I must not particularize here, as I intend sketching the more prominent personages during a morning lounge in Milsom-street; when, appearing in their ordinary costume, they will be the more easily recognised in print, and remain a more lasting memorial of Bath eccentrics,

SKETCHES IN BATH--CHAPTER II.

~312~~

Well-known Characters in the Pump-room taking a Sip with King Bladud--Free Sketches of Fair Game--The awkward Rencontre, or Mr. B------and Miss L.--Public Bathing or stewing alive--Sober Thoughts--Milsom-street Swells--A Visit to the Pig and Whistle, Avon-street--of the Buff Club.

To the pump-room we went, where the grave, and the gay, And the aged, and the sickly, lounge time away; Where all the choice spirits are seen making free With the sov'reign cordial, the true _eau de vie_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page312]

The _dejeune_ over, the first place to which the stranger in Bath is most desirous of an introduction is the Pump-room; not that he antic.i.p.ates restoration to health from drinking the waters, or imagines the virtues of immortality are to be found by immersion in the baths; but if he be a person of any condition, he is naturally anxious to _show off_ make his bow to the gay throng, and, at the same time, elucidate the exact condition of Bath Society. If, however, he is a mere plebeian in search of novelty, coupling pleasure with business, or an invalid sent here by his doctors to end his days, he is still anxious, while life remains, to see and be seen; to observe whom he can recognise among the great folks he has known in the metropolis, or perchance, meet consolation from some suffering fellow citizen, who, like himself, has been conveyed to Bath to save his family the misery of seeing him expire beneath his own roof. "What an admirable variety of character does this scene present," said Transit, who, on our first ~313~~entrance, was much struck with the magnificence of the rooms, and still more delighted with the immense display of eccentricities which presented themselves.

"I must introduce you, old fellow," said Eglantine, "to a few of the oddities who figure here. The strange-looking personage in the right-hand corner is usually called d.i.c.k Solus, from his almost invariably appearing abroad by himself, or dangling after the steps of some fair Thespian, to the single of whom he is a very constant tormentor. Mrs. Egan of the theatre, 'who knows what's what,' has christened him Mr. Dillytouch; while the heroes of the sock and buskin as invariably describe him by the appellation of Shake, from an unpleasant action he has both in walking and sitting. The sour-visaged gentleman at this moment in conversation with him is the renowned Peter Paul Pallet, esq., otherwise the Reverend Mr. M-----------. Behind them appears a celebrated dentist and his son, who has attained the rank of M.D., both well known here by the t.i.tles of the Grand Duke of Tusk-aney and Count Punn-tusk-y, a pair of worthies always on the lookout for business, and hence very constant attendants at the promenade in the Pump-room. The old gentleman in the chintz morning-gown hobbling along on crutches, from the gout, is a retired vinegar merchant, the father of a Chancery M.P., of whom the Bath wags say, 'that when in business, he must always have carried a sample of his best vinegar in his face.'"

At this moment old Blackstrap advanced, and requested permission to introduce to our notice Jack Physick, an honest lawyer, and, as he said, one of the cleverest fellows and best companions in Bath. Jack had the good fortune to marry one of the prettiest and most attractive actresses that ever appeared upon the Bath stage, Miss Jamieson, upon which occasion, the wags circulated many pleasant _jeux d'esprits_ on the union of "love, law, and physic." The arrival of a very pompous gentleman, who appeared to ~314~~excite general observation, gave my friend Eglantine an opportunity of relating an anecdote of the eccentric, who figures in Pultney-street under the cognomen of the Bath bashaw. "There," said Horace, "you may see him every morning decorated in his flannel _robe de chambre_ and green velvet cap, seated outside in his balcony, smoking an immensely large German pipe, and sending forth clouds of fragrant perfume, which are pleasantly wafted right or left as the wind blows along the breakfast tables of his adjoining neighbours.

This eccentric was originally a foundling discovered on the steps of a door in Rath, and named by the parochial officers, Parish: by great perseverance and good fortune he became a Hambro' merchant, and in process of time realized a handsome property, which, much to his honour and credit, he retired to spend a portion of among the inhabitants of this city, thus paying a debt of grat.i.tude to those who had protected him in infancy when he was abandoned by his unnatural parents. The little fellow yonder with a military air, and no want of self-conceit, is a field-officer of the Bath volunteers, Adjutant Captain O'Donnel, a descendant from the mighty King Bryan Baroch, and, as we say at Eton, no _small beer man_, I a.s.sure you." "Who is that gigantic fellow just entering the rooms'?" said Heartly. "That is Long Heavisides," replied Eglantine, "whom Handsome Jack and two or three more of the Bath wits have christened, in derision, Mr. Light-sides, a right pleasant fellow, quite equal in intellect and good-humour to the alt.i.tude of his person, which, I am told, measures full six feet six." "Gentlemen," said the facetious Blackstrap, "here comes an old lady who has paid dearly for a bit of the Brown, lately the relict of the late Admiral M'Dougal, and now fresh at seventy the blooming wife of a young spark who has just attained the years of discretion, at least, as far as regards ~315~~pecuniary affairs; for before leading the old lady into church, she very handsomely settled three thousand per annum upon her Adonis, as some little compensation to his feelings, for the rude jests and jeers he was doomed to bear with from his boon companions." "Eyes right, lads," said Eglantine; "the tall stout gentleman in a blue surtout and white trowsers is General B---------."

"Pshaw! never mind his name," said Heartly; "what are his peculiarities?" "Why--imprimis, he has a lovely young female commander in chief by his side--is a great reader with a very little memory. A very good story is told of him, that I fear might be applied with equal justice to many other great readers; namely, that some wags having at different times altered the t.i.tle-page, and pasted together various leaves of a popular Scotch novel, they thus successfully imposed upon the General the task of reading the same matter three times over--by this means creating in his mind an impression, not very far from the truth, that all the works of the Great Unknown bore a very close similitude to each other; an opinion which the General is said to maintain very strenuously unto this hour. Of all the characters in the busy scene of life which can excite a pleasurable sensation in the close observer of men and manners, is your gay ancient, whether male or female; the sprightly Evergreens of society, whose buoyant spirits outlive the fiery course of youth, while their playful leaf.a.ge buds forth in advanced life with all the freshness, fragrance, and vigour of the more youthful plants. Such," said Eglantine, "is the old beau yonder, my friend Curtis, who is here quaintly denominated the Everlasting.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page315]

The jolly Baccha.n.a.lian, who accompanies him in his morning's lounge, is Charles Davis, a right jolly fellow, universally respected, although, it must be admitted, he is a _party_ man, since in a ~316~~show of hands, Charles must always, unfortunately, be on one side." A promenade up and down the room, and a visit to the G.o.ddess Hygeia, for such, I suppose, the ancient matron who dispenses the healing draught must be designated, gave us an opportunity of observing the fresh arrivals, among whom we had the pleasure to meet with an old naval officer, known to Heartly, a victim to the gout, wheeled about in a chair, expecting, to use his own sea phrase, to go to pieces every minute, but yet full of spirits as an admiral's grog bottle, as fond of a good joke as a fresh-caught reefer, and as entertaining as the surgeon's mate, or the chaplain of the fleet.

"I say, Master Heavtly," said the captain, "the frigate yonder with the brown breast works, and she with the pink facings, look something like privateers. My forelights, Master Heartly, but if I had the use of my under works, I should be for firing a little grape shot across their quarters to see if I could not bring them into action!" "And I will answer for it, they would not show any objection to lie alongside of you, captain," said Eglantine, "while you had got a shot left in your locker. Mere Cyprian traders, captain, from the Gulf of Venus, engaged in gudgeon bawling, or on the lookout for flat fish. The little craft, with the black top, is called the Throgmorton; and the one alongside the Ormsby of Berkeley is the Pretty Lacy, a prime frigate, and quite new in the service. If you have a mind to sail up the Straits of Cytherea, captain, I can answer for it we shall fall in with a whole fleet of these light vessels, the two Sisters; the Emery's; the yawl, Thomson; that lively little cutter, Jackson; the transports, King and Hill; the lugger, Lewis; and the country ship, the Lady Grosvenor, all well found, and ready for service, and only waiting to be well manned. A good story is just now afloat about the Lacy, who, being recently taken up for private trade by Commodore Bowen, was ~317~~discovered to be sailing under false colours. It appears, that during the commander's absence a dashing enemy, the captain of the Hussar, a man of war, had entered the cabin privately, and having satisfied himself of the state of the vessel, took an opportunity to overhaul the ship's stores, when drinking rather freely of some choice love~age, a cordial kept expressly for the commodore's own use, he was unexpectedly surprised by the return of the old commander on board; and in making his escape through the cabin window into a boat he had in waiting, unfortunately left his time-piece and topmast behind. This circ.u.mstance is said to have put the commodore out of conceit with his little frigate, who has since been paid off', and is now chartered for general purposes." At this little episode of a well-known Bath story, the captain laughed heartily, and Transit was so much amused thereat, that on coming in contact with the commodore and the captain in our perambulations, he furnished the accompanying sketch of that very ludicrous scene, under the head of

The Bath beau and frail belle, Or Mr. B------and Miss L-----.

An excellent band of music, which continues to play from one to half past three o'clock every day during the season, greatly increases the attraction to the rooms, and also adds much to the cheerfulness and gaiety of the scene. We had now nearly exhausted our materials for observation; and having, to use Transit's phrase, booked every thing worthy of note, taken each of us a gla.s.s of the Bath water, although I confess not swallowing it without some qualmish apprehensions from the recollection of the four lines in Anstey's Bath Guide.