^«L<;c < ^<^ c. «^ «.«. ' v? < . <:; • <.«t. ^^ C <«- c ^ ;<^jC CCC < ^ .. > vv^ < < C *C c « < <^ '^^^ J? C c ccc ^ ^^c c. - ^;f -^ '' ^^^r^ • ^ V C^cX^'-C^ < \ (C. <^^^,^:- ^^^^ <-"< C' *■ d C'^~ ^^ ' SV^< " f I c_ c t ' ^S^^ *r ^ A . \^.C CSl^^^ "c^' a <~< S^ ^ ^ «r- «^^ Ccc^L <-^^,^ ter 'JS:^^ rjc^^ vc ee«^^ ^fcr- c«^% ^^-^C • > < c Oil ,^ HARD KNOCKS OR, WHO IS FIRST? g^ M\u. ■RX ANICETUS, h/ao%" has a son ; but ancient Rome ! Delights him more than his familiar home, " Where all things are so mixed, and men of birt\ Are knocked about as though the meanest earth." Bah ! he would never live at home — not he ! He hates the Union — its democracy I A brainless snob ; he thinks to be of note, By going abroad, and scorning Yankee vote. WHO IS FIRST? 63 He help to make a President 1 He take The trouble to our public men create ! The country might be cursed ere he would do, A kindness hearty for " a base-born crew Of grovelling workers ; worthless but to do The work of slaves, their vulgar doctrine shout, Of equal birth, of freedom dying out ! " Ko, no ; your emigrant to holy Rome, Dislikes to think of e'en his Yankee home, O, he would be where the all-glorious past. Looms up in splendor that shall ever last. And sighs o'er these so tame and vulgar days. Deserving well of censure, least of praise. So thinks the brother .of the daughter dear, Foolish as she, and senseless in appear. The Deacon married for a tender home, 64 HARD KNOCKS, OR For means to dress^ o'er foreign lands to roam ; He was a handsome and a well-formed man, But shiftless as an oyster or a clam ] His glass, his sofa, and his cigar, Was more to him than all the world by fir ; His wife was well enough, but she would swear, And " rip around," " pitch in " to Sappy's hair ; Until one day poor Sappy thought he'd die, And leave a world his needs could not supply. His wife rejoiced, and her proud mother laughed, Papa drank wine, and Sappy's fortune quaffed ; "There was a time," and such a time, we vow. As ne'er had happened for an age till noio. Not in his grave two weeks this Mr. Jack, Than hops another dandy on their back. The younger daughter, full of senseless love, WHO IS FIRST ? 65 Is " smashed " by small talk and a dainty glove ; She weds while Clasp-me-tighter giggles, For she is old in Love's perplexing riddles; She's had her fun, and knows what it has cost ; Has had her chills, been nipped by "killing frost"; But this young daughter is left to find, Out wisdom's narrows through her single mind. And break her neck if needful it should be, To light her out to deep and shoreless sea ! Where "Love's young dream " is tossed upon the wave, Till early wrecked it finds an ocean grave. O, these are first ! King Money makes them so ; f In their grand train Bulls, Bears, and Monkeys go ! Thus we behold how Folly makes its way. While Truth, dejected, weeps and turns away ; 5 66 HARD KNOCKS, OR Thus we behold liow poor a thing is Pride, When nonsense spawns it and when meanness guides ; Thus we behold how " Modern Athens " teems. With liesh and bones which foul and heartless seem ; Who strut and bluster, sing of their great worth, And crawl like vermin to their native earth ! But wearied with the softness of our theme, We gladly leave it as some nauseous dream. We point to Art ! and they who live for it^ Whose toil is wearisome — for gains a bit : Unwrapped in dollars, as the trader, They grasp not ; but their Art's high bliss prefer 1 WHO IS FIRST .'' 67 They work for pleasure, not alone for coin, Kegard those most whose taste with theirs conjoin. Artistic genius ! a great gift indeed, Fatal too oft — the mother cursed of need ! Thy noblest spirits not unfrequent die. Broken in heart, unwept by Friendship's eye! Would " Modern Athens" knew thy gentle love — Would raise thee prostrate to a seat above, The thoughtless rabble whose warm beef and bread, Is all they care for, with a covered head ! Not e'en do they regard the lovely maid, Or seek in aught to give her timely aid, Whereby in Art her ready, skilful hand. May for its worth a due reward command, For teaching those ideals which charm the eye. And give us hope when we shall come to die ; 68 HARD KNOCKS, OR Those forms of beauty which so move the heart, Ere yet from memory through age they part ; For though not forms of gold they yield clehght, Bedeck the mind as stars bedeck the night ! And with sweet purity they fill the soul, With pleasure holy and with self-control! For genius^ — though from over-thought depressed. And by Life's usages too oft distressed ; Lost in Error its wayward passions cause, — Still by its works give force to moral laws ; Enabling others, studying well their art, To guard the mind and tend with care the heart ! Ah, little know ye who have not this fire. Which moves the soul to grasp at all desire ! What misery dogs Life's steps where nothing gives, Those hoped-for joys for which true genius fives. WHO IS EIRST ? 69 And now we pass to Science, and proclaim Her zealous votaries full half insane. Truth, truth ! 'tis that which many seek in vain, And by their search too oft but sorrow gain ; A sort of Janus is it — two-faced thing, 'Twill more of woe than ever pleasure bring. In Law 'tis anything the wits may will. There is no point without two faces still ; And cither's good of it may suit the case, And help the lawyer to achieve the race. Whate'er is wanted digests will aflbrd, And sophistries to suit will e'er accord. Though hard the case authorities will say, "'Tis right enough, as money paves the way." They are of equal weight, both pro and con^ 70 HARD KlIfOCKS, OR But weigh the heaviest when they serve the ton. O, 'tis indeed a fearful fact to know, How little truth from le^al studies flow ! How little from man's reason, dark and sad, Comes to the heart to make it ever glad ! Frail, frail the tenure of all law on earth. But that evolved from Jesus' holy birth ! The law of Love, of Charity, and Peace, By which the soul in goodness shall increase, — By which our courts a conscience may acquire, And Equity dispense as Justice shall require. For lawyeis as a class we have no praise. They blast all beauty by their subtle ways ; Encourage strife, in quarrels love to be. The more they quarrel, more and more their fee ! But at the Bar there are some noble souls, WHO IS FIRST ? 71 Whom ste«adfast honor at all times controls. They will not complicate for larger fee, Nor bend to every litigant the knee. They have a sense of justice and delight, To labor in behalf of what is right, — Right in their judgment, as the case may be, Seen through the light of love and purity ! To them all praise ! they keep in wholesome awe. The baser sort, who'd make a hell of Law, All honor to their care of sacred Truths — The caution they observe in weighing proof. Ah, such as these are first, and shall endure, In legal forms till records are no more. To Medicine and Doctors now we come. To pills and plasters, pukes and powders, gum ; \ 72 HARD KNOCKS, OR These cure, 'tis s.'iid, who else would surely die, And thousands help in dreadful misery ! Yet are we told by those who ought to know. Health has than these no more destructive foe ! So, verily, we think 'tis best to be, Through life from physic and from doctors free! Since many are both heartless and unlit, To tend upon the ailings of a kit. They care but little how the case may go, Still less they care for any patient's woe ; Practising oft upon the helpless poor, To be more worthy of the wealth y's door! But if a doctor you must have, live well. Your style and purse with him will greatly tell; For he is keen, and if he sees sure pay. He'll do his best to keep you in his loay. WHO IS FIRST r t6 This is the rule ! thanks to Heaven there are, Who treat the poor and rich with equal care ; In sympathy with all they labor hard, To do their duty, oft without reward. Yes, they are first! Ah, "Athens" knows them well, And every tongue their deeds of goodness tell. Come we now to that large crowd so grave, Who bear the cross and think their priests can save. Mighty priests are they indeed to these. Who fear the holy fathers to displease ; Whose lives are given to the love of power. Good eating, drinking, pleasures of the hour ! As we observe the clergy of all sects. Our eyes in most a worldly pride detects ; 74 HARD KNOCKS, OR They bear no semblance to those men of old, Who were indeed the shepherds of their fold; Bat gross and carnal damn what they would save And cast a double gloom about the sinner's grave. Theology ! ah, what, O, what art thou ? A maze of thought not clear on any brow ; A source of strife, a cause of bitter hate, Among the lowly as among the great. We scorn the boasts men dare to make of thee. And from thy pale, as now, would e'er be free ! The truth which schoolmen in thy realms secure, Is mixed with error, it is rarely pure I So from thy devious paths we turn away, To live in Christ, our guide and surest stay ^ Christ, whom the doctors of these latter days, Preach more than practise to his sacred praise ! WHO IS FIRST? 75 This world's tlieir piide, tliey too much love to be, Sailing at random on this troubled sea! We think them Deists, wolves in sheep's attire, Bearing within them hell's consuming fire! They theorize, and speculate, and damn, With notions false the quiet of the land. Out of that church by ages dark with crime ! A monument august to hoary-headed Time, There is no peace; but all to discord tends, And man with man in subtlest thought contends. The Romish Priest, though packed with holy lies, Holds to his doctrine, for religion dies. The Protestant divine, though far more free, Is oft perplexed by dark uncertainty ! With novelties beset, he knows not what, Is safe to preach to people or what not ; 76 HARD KNOCKS, OR He seems to lack aiitliority ! and men, May hear him earnest teach ; but, O, what then ? Others there are as earnest, who declare, All, all is false ! that Christ was but a seer ! A man like other men, a noble soul. Who sought the good from out this wicked world ; Unto his Father prayed as we also, May pray, and e'en as Christ the Father know ! O, " Modern Athens ! " sad it is to see. The infidels who cling so close to thee ; Who Deify the intellect and hate, Whate'er does not attend upon their state ; Who think to learn that truth which dwells with God, To share with EAm the glory of His nod. WHO IS FIRST ? 77 Blasphetiions insolence ! wliat is the mind, That it should thus its puny self sublime ? What has it learned with all its boasted wit, Since Eden's day that doth a God befit ? What doth it know if measured by the past, Or silent space, where worlds on worlds are cast? Then why, for aught man knows^ may it not be, That Jesus Christ is all of Deity ? * lie spoke and perished ; but His Word will live. To cheer the helpless as they silent grieve. In " Modern Athens " they are surely first I Who teach the doctrine of the fearful curse ; And preach repentance of our daily sins, Obtained through Christ, with whom our life begins, * That is, all that we may ever knoia of Deity- 78 HARD KNOCKS, OR And now we turn to thut audacious pack, Of brazen reprobates who are labelled " quack : " In art and science, in every phase o' life, They cut large figure, rampant in the strife ; They've bought the papers with their custom large, And seldom growl at any over charge. We like ability in any form. Whether to patch an eye or cure a corn ; But when sound learning and still sounder sense, Is starved to death by quackish impudence, We think the time has come to seek a plan, To gibbet quacks, and fumigate the land. There's Dr. So-and-so, who pulls out teeth, And Lawyer So-and-so with his stout brief; There's Parson John, pounding hard the pulpit, Exciting sinners to a laugh or fit ; WHO IS FIRST ? 79 There's now a surgeon with his knife stuck in, To some poor patient's tough and greasy skin ; There's now a doctor o'er a lady's breast, With mouth to mouth to find out her distress; There's now a fellow who drives fast his pen, Ambitious to outdo all lettered men ; There's now a crack-brain with a chisel, brush, Who thinketh Art his mission, he the first, Of artists ! weeping that the unkind world, Should squibs and laughter at his labors hurl ! All quacks ! there's not a mother's son without. The gift of doing what they know naught 'bout. A clever talent this, we must admit. But not akin to honest, common wit. And should be cuffed and kicked till it withdraws. From those high seats grasped by its dirty ^)«?/^.^. 80 HARD KNOCKS, OR Yet quacks will flourish, since so many are, More pleased with Immbug tlian with truth, by far : They love to be deceived . and he who can, Their fancies please is much the better man. The Student now doth claim our wondering eye, As he with patience does thought's lens apply : Forgetful of his body oftentimes, In love of books — to fame he nimbly climbs. In " Modern Athens " there are numbers who, Are curious, and seek extensive view ; They've through all ages read, and can relate, The reign and crimes of every potentate! They seem to live more in the distant past, Than in the present brief, with its mean cast WHO IS FIRST? 81 Of incident, compared with what was known, When kings were demi-gods upon their thrones. We love the student, for his labor tells, Of one who follows not the beaux and belles ; Whose head is thoughtful and whose heart is pure, Who honors truth! delights to turn it o'er. And though his mind may not this treasure gain, To that extent to which it would attain. So mixed with error is it, yet his work. Is noble and without least taint of hurt. And if he bears within his soul the will. To conquer error, he may thus fulfil, A mission high, and live a happy man. Conscious of God — led by his holy hand. Study is well, so too is gentle play. The one should follow as the night the day. 6 82 HARD KNOCKS, OR They then are first who seek the truth with care, If feet are large and patched the boots they wear ! In " Modern Athens " studious men must rate, Among the first — have access to the great. To know, to be a lexicon of facts. Is e'er to mount and ride on others' backs ! Get knowledge, if thou would be known as first, The only terror to commercial purse — The money king, who waves too oft his hand, In token bold of his astute command — With learnincj ! thou may'st cool him down to one. Respectful make him as a well-whipped son. But what of Literature, of those who read, Dear publishers and clamorous authors feed. WHO IS FIRST? 83 Sometimes with silver spoon, then one of brass, As they are thought a genius or an ass ! The reader is the lord of all who write, The judge of what is wrong and what is right ; Nor care they much who loses by their taste. What author's hopes destroyed and lives laid waste; They'll read alone what " seems to be the thing," Though it be trashy, " 'twill the money bring : " And publishers will to the author say, " Your genius^ sir, is now to have its day ! " The author thinks the fools are not all dead, Else he's quite sure he never would be read ; But since there are who will his slops take down. He pours it out profusely from "his crown," And laughs to think how genius works in vain. While shallow wit counts up a glorious gain ! 84 HARD KNOCKS, OR But he remembers fools in fools delight, And thinks to icin is always to be right. So he goes strutting through the world to show, How small a creature may the large o'erthrow, And gain that praise and fame to others due. Whose noble minds delight alone the few ! Who wonders that the gifted, through neglect, Will sometimes fall to what is called " a fret," — Ay, cease to live, because the stench of fools, Their moral sense in moments drear o'errules ! But such is life : the mean and dull succeed. While high-toned talent often goes to seed ! 'Tis ordered so as insects are designed, To sting where'er an entrance they can find. We do not see the wisdom of the plan, Yet God is just in all, to brute and man. "WHO IS FIRST ? 85 So when a genius seeks in vain to please, He should not fail to be at perfect ease ; His bread unbuttered he'll get use to soon ; Will learn to feast upon the stars and moon ; For they shine ever bright, and teach the soul, Man's but a mite to this stupendous whole ! He's here to-day, to-morrow in his grave. With hosts to call him " a departed knave." Some may exclaim, " A good man's gone to rest ; " But these are those in whom he did invest I The multitude by instinct seem to know. That all are knaves however straight they go ! And rarely do we find a word of praise. That is not by a kindly purchase raised. 'Tis right enough, no doubt, to pay your way, « Whatever is, is right," as Pope would say. 86 HARD KNOCKS, OR Yet still ^twould be more pleasing to our mind, In human nature to more manhood find ! But to return to those who read and write, And over words and over fiction fight. In readers all there's something to amuse ; Who snufi* and do not snuff, alike abuse The author, who has labored for their praise, And lived amid his books laborious days. There's not a single one, from Bess to Ralf, " That is not thunder" in lore's high behalf: It matters not how learned they are in signs, — How drank the classics up, or Flemish wines ; They're readers ! and that, sirs, is quite enough — They'll damn your trade if you're not "up to snuff." By Heavens ! 'tis a lovely sight to see, These readers on a literary spree I WHO IS FIRST? 87 They've got a lot of books which they think fine, All in a certain " taking kind of line." But still " they're full of faults." O, yes ; What is there j^erfect but a lady's dress ? Besides, there's nothing new — they want to know, More than the authors can conceive of now ; And yet " 'tis very good " — their cash's well spent, " Because they purchased, O, they don't repent." We all can tell these readers at a glance, They bear within their eyes wit's bluntest lance ; They walk as though they bore upon their top. The cream of each publisher's tasty shop ; And yet, too often, should w^e tap their head, Their vast attainments bright would be but lead ! There is a diflference between the student And the reader, merely — one is bent 88 HARD KNOCKS, OR On stuffing orderly and well his brain, ' With what he knows to be decided gain ; The other like a lapdog would be pleased, And seeks to learn with readiness and ease : Books are to him what lovers are to maids — > Footballs to kick when fickle mood persuades. Authors, we pity you, we feel your woe, To be thus exercised by reader's toe ; Escape there's none, for you are after fame. And you must pay the price of honored name ! If kicked, be patient ! let them kick again ; You've got your library — you've got your pen ; You've got your publisher — ah, that's a bore, Harder than all with patience to endure ; For if you've genius, but have got no tin, They'll print your musings, and they'll "put you in," WHO IS FIRST ? 89 For sixpence to their fat and full-faced dollar, How hard soe'er you grunt, and groan, and holloa ; But publishers are well enough ; they're first In "Athens," when they're not by readers cursed! The Author — what of him? why, he's the last; Indifferently by he's past ! A scavenger, or anything you please, Are they dependent on the pen for ease ; On what may chance to fit a bookman's trade, To please a loafer, or to tease a maid ! Genius, poor genius, is the last to see,- Itself rewarded and from sorrow free ! But though you thus do suffer and thus weep, Thy soul is mighty and thy thought is deep ; If man will not a proper homage pay, But leave thee lonely to pursue thy way, 90 HARD KNOCKS, OR Thy scorn is fire, and thy heart is iron, The world thy laughter, cherished dreams thy sun, Brighter far than th' light which doth illume. Those darkened bosoms, that false pride assume. Who'd have thee ^oor^, and see thee die of laant^ And mourn thy exit with a heartless cant. And now, as we are closing up this t-heme, We'll point to one on whom the Poets lean : Once on a time we sought his "genial smile," With hopeful trust and happy heart the while ; But though our offering was rich and rare, He gave us over unto dark despair ! Said he, " It won't be read ; " why not ? thought we, If only stamped with his immensity ! But we went not to him through those he- loved, We were not by some august I^oet gloved ! WHO IS FmST ? 91 We were unknown to any of that crew, For whom alone he'd dare^ alone would do ; So with a gentleness we'll ne'er forget, He put us cfF as not of his "sweet set." But thanks to lead, 'tis too extensive fai*, To be all carried by a one-horse car; So type will up and speak despite his will, To keep them down, to force them to be still. The gifted Chatterton^ though but a boy, Had learned small things their betters could destroy, And left on record that the greatest dunce, But back him rightly may be famed at once ! And flourish through the art of polished knaves, While equal worth oft finds unhonored graves ! But he whom we are knocking now, though "sweet," Has published much, it is not hard to beat. 92 HARD Jn;xocks, or Still it was written by those " splendid wits," Whose genius gives him such ecstatic fits ! Their weaknesses we think are very weak, Tliough 'tis outrageous for us thus to speak ; And doubtless there are some would hang us high, Because we thus these saintly loves decry ; But hang away, you'll find we'll slip the noose, And you'll be laughed at as " a goosy goose." " Our handsome man" the ladies love full well. To whom he oft will pleasant stories tell, From whence arise those "Battles of the Books," By all talked o'er, gay ladies and their cooks. Prodigious wit ! how sad you've got to die ! For wdio can ever your great worth supply ? O, who can do the dirty work like you ? Thank heaven, there are indeed but very few ! WHO IS FIRST? 93 Who love so much "to swell," and play a part, Without a conscience and without a heart ! There are on earth ^ome fields where plants do grow. That scatter broadcast bitterness and woe ! Into those fields the wise will never stray, So fare thee well, Sweet Sir, "a long good day." He who these lines has roughly dealt to thee. Could never wish in thy dear smiles to be; Nor could bow down to all those " stars" which shine, With that bright polish thou dost think divine. You may pass current as " a handsome man," But for an honest one you never can I And he who tells thee this means what he says, Nor can applaud your soft and winning ways ; Though bUss he's sought for years, yet not till now. As thus he scalps thee, has he felt its flow ! 94 HARD KNOCKS, OR He is in raptures ; you must be the same — Beneath contempt, beneath the reach of shame ! One other publisher we'll overhaul. And by his right name would the scapegrace call : He keeps an " up-town bookstore," where one finds, Arrayed in gilt " the better class of minds." Yet Byron^ with his gay, seductive wit. This Jackass trades in — " for the pure unfit ; " While from his library he discards a tale. Which we devised to Boston snobs assail : There was some smut, no doubt, on pages few, But not enough to cause this great ado. A thin-skinned Jackass^ how could he do less, For sweet pretension in their rouge and dress ; Those empty heads and padded forms we find. So very gracious only to their kind, — WHO IS FIRST ? 95 This toady, sneak, consummate ass is theirs, And trims to suit them all his gilt-edged wares. Akin to him another sneak there is. With slim, bent body, mean, disgusting phiz ; His name we will not give ; but trash, for years, The rascal's sold, to bathe the world in tears ; But lately he has gone to better trade, Where Poets once their loafing quarters made : Of all the knaves that curse the book trade he. The head and front of this vile crew would be. Once on a time he tried his wit on us. But we knew well the nature of « the cuss," And as some cur that runs along the street. We ever think of him when now we meet. We here would write a word or two of one. Who claims to be "a big poetic gun": 96 HARD KNOCKS, OR " IsTow is the lointer of our discontent," When such as he may falsely fame invent ; Conceited, vain, and stupid as a clam. There's but one phrase for him, and that's "be damned" — For surely will he be, if he sings more, Parnassus' nine " will never stand it, sure ; " The little upstart should be kept in bed, And soaked in decency his rhyme-cracked head ! A poet this? the cock-a-doodle-do, Is more a poet than ever were, sir, you ; You never wrote a thing in all your life, Not better writ before — a thing most rife ; And yet you have the vanity to claim. The Poet's high and ever-living name ! Go to, you humbug ! sing no more, we say, WHO IS FIRST? 97 But be at something you can make to pay ! Small in stature, you are small in mind, And so in verse you dare " to go it blind ! " But heed our counsel, and while yet you may, Slide down Parnassus, trot some other way. Being done with you, we wish a word to write. Of one who is a poet, and a poet quite : His muse is lazy, but is ever true. To what Parnassus rightly claims its due — A mind and heart to noble manhood joined ! Whence is his verse with manly vigor coined. Though Athens has not used " her gifted son," With that strict justice which she should have done, Yet those who witnessed with what pluck he fought, All through the war for patriotic thought, Will e'er respect his pen for what it dared. 98 HARD KNOCKS, OR Thougli hard (from villains' hellish spite) it fared — Who sought to blast the " Courier" in their ire, And stay its honest and effective fire ; But he who worked the guns his post maintained, Until rebellion proved to be in vain ; True to the Union which our fathers made, And only that would he attempt to save ! Nobly he stood while howling rascals raved, Because he would not be by them enslaved — Think as they thought, do as they meanly done, Before and after all we sought was won ! Would Athens had more Limts to point the way, To Truth and Honor when comes dark the day ; Who'd not misuse their power and play a part, At which the honest must grow sick at heart. That is true poetry which dares, as he. WHO IS FIRST ? 99 'Gainst villains' sneers an honest man to be! If from the war he riches did not gain, Give us his little with his S23otless fame ! — Give us that inspiration which he caught, From Webster's grand and granite-moulded thought. This was the genius which made Ximt so firm, — So fixed in purpose and in method stern ; Inspired that scorn of those who held the sway. And cut so much from our noble ship away — That Constitution which we fought to save, Just as our fathers to the children gave ; But which is changed in much not called for now. To which the weak-kneed reverential bow ! And what will not most asses take as kind, If they their provender can only find ? 100 HARD KNOCKS, OR O life ! O life ! what wonder some there are, Whom death prefer to thy experience far : We have a country, we have Union too, Yet of right honest men we've but a few ! Nor can our Athens boast of a large share, Although they should be here if anywhere, — The seat of Learning and the home of Art, Where brains are quite as active as the heart ; Here should they be, but turn where'er you will, You find that rogues the best of places fill ; These into one another's hands do play, So wag the times and runs the world away. "Be good, and starve," — whoe'er may practise this, With laughter at its heels may go amiss — Go to the devil on a rail of steam, To wake and find that honesty's a dream ! WHO IS FIRST? 101 O, tlien be careful, ye who'd pay your bills, To note " those ways of life " its end fulfils ! Steal not direct, but do your business so, None but the trade will what you're up to know. Make money fast, they do it this way now, And hang out honesty upon your brow ; It looks quite well, it answers all your need. And tickles those whom " your fine talents " bleed. If you get wealth by stealing, as you may, Just put on airs, and clear becomes your way ; Go where you please, do what you please, 'tis right, At least the law will never you indict; You are O. K. — all risjht I But 'mid the rascals who genteelly live, And grasp at power in Athens' busy hive. Wo see, and have from early childhood known, 102 HARD KNOCKS, OR That genial fellow near to Athens' throne ; He is a little package, weighs quite light, But loves the Truth, and ever seeks the Right ; There is no 3Iac who "Modern Athens" serves, Who more of honor than this man deserves ; Long years he's labored in her public ranks, With humble pay and none too much of thanks Yet has he that beyond all price to him — Athens' full trust, so few can ever win ! Long may he live about the city's throne, To grace its councils and assist its tone. And when with years he too shall pass away, May his example be eternal day ! The Critic, now, we think is next in hand, Attempting oft with faintest praise to damn ! WHO IS FIRST? 103 We've seen such fellows, and we've seen them whipped, By something less than classic schoolboy wit ; Of courage marked when danger is not near, They snap and snarl without the check of fear; But let a crack of genius now be heard, And they fall backward with a softer word ; They're hist just now, but soon we'll see them first. Whene'er an author moderate comes with verse. They'll " skin" him sure, and if his bones are loose, They'll shake them out of him with mean abuse ! In "Athens" fine these men of ink are first. Who fairly deal — do not abuse their trust. Yet strange it is, indeed, we have few critics, Who are superlatively diamond wits ; They deeply cut, but do not sparkle bright, 104 HARD KNOCKS, OR Their knife's a bowie, aimed at wrong or right ! We need a poignancy which does its work, With thoroughness, but not with lasting hurt ! We want such critics, we must have them too, Fair play to authors is from Athens due. One word of Clerks ! those small and tender limbs Of trade, whose labor with the day begins ; Whose pay's a trifle and whose hopes are dark, Whose life's a burden and whose bliss a spark, No sooner kindled than fate puts it out. Through churlish master or some other lout ; " They're only clerks ! " and pray what is this class ? They're only dirt, no more than dirt, alas ! They help make fortunes; but, well, what of that? The mule draws th' dray, the soldier bears the sack; WHO IS FIRST? 105 But neither mule nor man is thought to be, Worthy of care in any marked degree ; They're driven fast or slow, as suits " the boss," Who cares alone for what may he his loss ; And though these servants often bleed at heart, The " boss " goes on and plays his niggard part, While they inquire, "O, whence has justice flown?" When listening Echo answers with a moan ! And so they pass, and " onward plod their way," Till, " worked to death," they back return to clay — Glad to depart from out the traces drear. In which they've pulled unloved from year to year ; In which they've known how base it is to serve, Where honor is not and where truth's unheard ! Take courage clerks, and if thy talents are, 106 HAPtD KNOCKS, OR For others plied, be thou above them far; If they thy talents use and do not give Thee recompense, to save as well as live, Above them be in this — accomplished mind ! A bliss they know not with their much-prized coin ; Teach them to feel there is a solace dear, In cultured taste, though oft flows sorrow's tear ; Teach them to be, though masters, gentlemen ! To pay for service what His worth to them. Let thy example and thy spirit brave, Teach them thou art no mean and coward slave; That lofty is thy soul, thy purpose pure, Equal with them before God's perfect law ! So shalt thou stand 'mid " Athens' " honored first, Though poor thy lot, and scanty be thy purse. WHO IS FIRST? 107 And last, not least, Mechanic, in our love. We take thy hand, though hard and all ungloved ; Thy "bone and sinew " and thy "manly brain," Are "Athens'" boast and "Athens' " needful gain ! There is a set who turn their backs on thee. But manly hearts from insolence are free; 'Tis only those w^th more of pride than sense, "Who fail to see thy foremost consequence ; The knowledge which is thine, and must be thine, To do thy labor taxes much the mind ; Not more the merchant or physician needs, A manhood fair for honorable deeds. When thou to science and thyself art true, Thou art the first ! for thou canst think and do ! Patient thy weary toil while others play, And strut about as idlers all the day. 108 HARD KNOCKS, OR We trust the time's not distant when thy mind, Will more of right in Mammon's conscience find; When payment for thy toil shall be more just, Thy hand no meaner 'cause 'tis soiled icith dust. It is to thee " our Athens" owes her dress, Of beauty, power — ay, her happiness. Her fame ! thy "vulgar energies" conjoined With Capital^ hath wafted o'er the main ; And shall thy solid worth be trampled on, By upstart pygmies to serve perhaps anon ? Looking as though a stout hammer and nail, Would spend their wind and flat their spreading sail! Are such as these to outface thee, brave man, In "Athens" noted for thy skilful hand ? TVnO IS FIRST? 109 O, no ; thou'rt first! hold up thy honest head, And be not dashed by peacock-pygmies' tread. And now to close ; yet ere we wipe our pen, And bring this knocking to a speedy end. We would discursive wander through the town. And turn a few more sweet "Athenians" round. First, Jim we'll greet, with his fragrant dime cigar, At billiards skilled, and often at the " bar ; " He loves the ladies, but their papas say, " To win so smart a youth will never pay." He's first ! that is his family " is some," And from grandees it is believed they "come ; A gymnast smart, he spars, and well can fence, In these accomplishments he shows much sense. Then, too, there's Titans! who will row three miles, 110 HARD KNOCKS, OR Ere you can kiss a maiden for her smiles. Trumps, trumps they are, and only play to win, Loving a boat as Satan worships sin ; But with their muscles firm, their oars and prizes. They're modest youths, and wait upon the ladies ; They are not " blowers," though they're heroes bold, In " Athens " honored for their manly soul. We think them first, we think all fully first, Who take to water and who take the purse ! We bid god-speed these heroes of the oar^ And may they never run themselves a-sliore. From hearty youth we pass to proud old maids. Decked out in crinoline and in brocades ; They've had more offers than pet squirrels nuts. But theii' " dear men " have been misfortune's butts ; Who would not wed " till they could see their way," "WHO IS FIRST? Ill For honor bade them keep dear love at bay. So thus these maidens once so fresh and fair, Have been compelled a lapdog for an heir ! They " rip out " now and then, but weather fine. Their hearts will beat as runs their good old wine. They, laughing, wonder how, O, how it is, Girls are so pleased with man's disgusting phiz ! They would not marry any man alive. Though bad their teeth, their hair most deeply dyed! They sigh to think it, though, for after all, There's joy in whiskers fine, so nicely oiled ; They feel so downy laid upon the face. While husband's arm enfolds the wife's dear waist. That, really, though all men are puppies, plagues, These maidens musty often sigh for babes. There are in " Modern Athens " men of note, 112 HARD KNOCKS, OR Who loaf in theatres, and 'bout bar-rooms float; They are the small-beer wits who talk aloud, And swear all genius of their nod is proud ; If they can make their bed and board, and drinks, 'Tis all they care for; d — n what th' parson thinks: To editors and managers they cling. And for their smiles are ever on the wing; Their hopes are mutual and their hearts are kind, To those who will for them good comfort find. Perhaps about the manager is one. Who's got a play he would have speedy done ; He begs it may be heard, he knows '-'twill play;" The manager then smiles and chats away ; With look of kindness and with base pretence. Appears to honor his dramatic sense. And so it goes, and so those who would gain, WHO IS FIRST? 113 From out the stage an author's noble fame, Must write -his scenes with trembling and in fear, To be rej^aid by disappointment's tear; To be well kicked and pushed by actors, pimps, Besetting theatres like to deathless imps. If one has genius to write classic play, He gold should have to pave his muddy way. To keep himself aloof from meanest pack, Who labor hard to break an author's back I Money, ay, money is the need of all. The drama's genius as the " nigger's hallP If you have mind, and heart, and will to be, A noted character — be Banker ! — he. Can have plays done though poor their plot and sense. For he can give to all sweet recompense. 8 114 HARD KXOCKS, OR Let lubbers bowl their criticisms wild, What carest tbou — O, Fortune's bappy child ! Tbe stage sbould be beld in highest praise — Nature's mirror in each succeeding age ! Genius alone sbould govern and control, And favors asked should be denied tlie bold. And pert, who forward pusb to fill the place, Whicb godlike w4t alone can truly grace. We know 'tis easy to define tbe law, That sbould prevail as it prevailed of yore. When men were autbors wbose wild, stormy souls, Demanded actors equal to their roles! And actors too were men wbose genius felt, Tbe glow of nature, and witb transport melt ! — Wbo soared no band and oped no mouthing lip, Wbose form and features were a language fit, WHO IS FIRST? 115 To stir the house and fill all eyes with tears, To win the laurel from " the public dears ; " But though that age has passed, and at this hour. The drama lives with loss of former power. Yet may it be in " Modern Athens " made. To flatter genius and its merit aid : There is no school like it, and people will, Cherish its love and cling around it still ! The Poet's soul exhales most fragrance here. Which Nature counterfeits to Virtue rear. Let "Modern Athens" place among her first. The Drama's masters of the sock and verse ; O, let this ancient Art, so truly great, Be here protected from disastrous fate ; Let it be raised at once, and all become, Its trusty guard — to martyrdom ! 116 HARD KNOCKS, OR And now, kind reader, be thoii foul or fair, We thank thee warmly for thy 'tentive ear; If thou, perchance, dost deem we've stricken hard, Bethink thee of our subject — that the bard, Is privileged to speak the truth, though sad Its telling, when the listener would be glad. If life is wearisome, and if mankind, Prefer the clouds to light, to be e'er blind, We cannoty must not, will 7iot aid in this Oblivion, and greet them with a kiss, When duty bids us to reprove, inform, Of what we see in human life deformed ! If we do write and publish, ye shall heed, As ive, the great and, O, most crying need, Of sense and virtue 'mong the class who reign, Above the censure and the breath of blame ! WHO IS FIRST? 117 I But we can reach them with our trusty pen, And though not Jove^ we yet can Truth defend : It is the only cause on this sad sphere, Worth manhood's love and manhood's earnest tear! It is the only cause which moves the heart. Towards its God, and godlike strength imparts ! Forgive us, then, if in our hearty hate, For tawdry beings who would e'er be great. We've thrown our ink with too ungentle force, To stay mad folly in its wayward course. Farewell, our friend ! if that indeed thou art. We wish thee merry as with thee we part ; And when thy bones shall be within the grave. Where rests alike the craven and the brave, O, may thy spirit, freed from passion here, Be perfect honor in a nobler sphere ! — 118 HARD KNOCKS, OR WHO IS FIRST? May Virtue's laurels bind thy angel head, Thy prayers be offered for the coming dead ! And if, perchance, our steps thou dost precede, Attend our sorrows and supply our needs — So we will part, and in that parting hope, On Truth hereafter to more fondly dote! HARD KNOCKS; OB, WHO IS FIRST? ^ mtn. BY ANIOETUS, AUTHOR OF "THE LEARNED WORLD," ''GENERAL GRANT; OK, THE STAR OF UNION AND LIBERTY," " AGNES FARRIDAY," ETC., ETC. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY A. W. LOVERING 233 Washington Street, 1872. S^?:? J •>?' y -^i^' ^^ > > y »> y^ ^ ^'% > : , ^ >^:). >^ > > 1. ~» )y> » > > >^ ^ > • :> '. . 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