Friends, Fashion, Fortune, will deceptive veer, Like fickle Seasons, in the varying Year. A sad it is, but melancholy Truth, How small, how slippery is the path of Youth: Many, no doubt, incautious, weak, and blind, Betraying want of prudence, want of mind, Impetuously advance, nor look before-- They unlamented sink--to rise no more: Others again, by observation guided, Step firmly on, determined, and decided; One solid Object steadily pursue, Nor e’er lose sight of what they have in view. Such was our Youth. If truly we him scan, He knew the World, and was a Worldly man; For deep intrigue, or artifice was fit, Endued with ample store of Mother wit: Apt was his mind, and his perception keen, To meditate on what he’d heard and seen. Tho’ few years converse with the World he’d held, He saw how much by folly ’twas impell’d; Saw to their passions that Mankind were Slaves, The dupes to flattery, and the sport of Knaves; Saw exultation, which no art could smother, Greedy enjoy the downfall of each other; Saw honest poverty, by pride opprest, And worthless Scoundrels for their wealth carest; Saw titled Miscreants, to all feeling lost, Disgrace the noble Pedigree they boast; Saw Wealth and Honours shamefully misplac’d, Fortune’s best gifts flagitiously disgrac’d: So much he saw--he found he could insure The Road to Wealth, and Honours quite secure. The first was in his grasp, he knew old John Was wond’rous rich, and he an only Son;-- And for the next, he could, some how, or other, Arrange that too, with aid of his good Mother. The Plan now laid, he open’d his approach, ‘Mother,’ says he, ‘you ought to keep a Coach. ‘In that, dear Mother, I should feel a pride.’ (Johnny well knew his Mother’s weakest side.) ‘See Lady Jane Tobacco’s gay Parade-- ‘She drives about, tho’ her good Man’s in Trade.’ ‘Ah! my dear John, all this is very true,-- ‘But how to manage it? what must I do?’ ‘O! as to that, I’ll put it in a Train; ‘You know, dear Mother, Dad’s a little vain: ‘So now between ourselves I will disclose ‘A famous scheme, which I have to propose: ‘Old Dad is rich enough, as you can tell-- ‘He first must be, a Banker in Pall Mall; ‘And having once, dear Mother, fixed him there, ‘We’ll have a Mansion in St. James’s Square;-- ‘Then at the Ministers old Dad shall set, ‘To make a Lord of him, or Baronet: ‘Then Lady _Newcome’s_ Equipage so neat, ‘With two smart Footmen rattling in the Street; ‘And with your Routs, your grandeur to evince, ‘Have half a score of Lords, and perhaps a Prince. ‘What, tho’ the great may exercise their wit, ‘Themselves are Scions from some honest Cit! ‘Then here again am I, whom no one knows, ‘A Grocer’s Son, among our City Beaux. ‘I in the Wars who have obtained some credit.’ ‘It shall be done, dear John, and I have said it.’