X.

Perhaps he hath great projects in his mind,
To build a college, or to found a race,
An hospital, a church,—and leave behind

Some dome surmounted by his meagre face:
Perhaps he fain would liberate mankind

Even with the very ore which makes them base;
Perhaps he would be wealthiest of his nation,
Or revel in the joys of calculation.

XI.

But whether all, or each, or none of these,
May be the hoarder's principle of action,
The fool will call such mania a disease:

What is his own? Go-look at each transaction,

Wars, revels, loves-do these bring men more ease

Than the mere plodding through each " vulgar fraction?”

Or do they benefit mankind? Lean miser!

Let spendthrifts' heirs inquire of yours-who's wiser ?

XII.

How beauteous are rouleaus! how charming chests
Containing ingots, bags of dollars, coins,
Not of old victors (all whose heads and crests
Weigh not the thin ore where their visage shines),
But of fine unclipp'd gold, where dully rests

:

Some likeness which the glittering cirque confines,
Of modern, reigning, sterling, stupid stamp
Yes! ready money is Aladdin's lamp.

XIII.

"Love rules the camp, the court, the grove," -"for love

-so sings the bard;

Is heaven, and heaven is love :".
Which it were rather difficult to prove
(A thing with poetry in general hard).
Perhaps there may be something in "the grove,"
At least it rhymes to "love," but I'm prepared
To doubt (no less than landlords of their rental)
If "courts" and "camps" be quite so sentimental.

XIV.

But if love don't, cash does, and cash alone;

Cash rules the grove, and fells it too besides; Without cash, camps were thin, and courts were none; Without cash, Malthus tells you take no brides.” So cash rules love the ruler, on his own

High ground, as Virgin Cynthia sways the tides; And, as for "heaven being love," why not say honey Is wax? Heaven is not love, 't is matrimony.

XV.

Is not all love prohibited whatever,

Excepting marriage? which is love, no doubt,

After a sort; but somehow people never

With the same thought the two words have help'd out: Love may exist with marriage, and should ever,

And marriage also may exist without;

But love sans bans is both a sin and shame,

And ought to go by quite another name.

XVI.

grove

Now if the "court" and "camp" and "
Recruited all with constant married men,
Who never coveted their neighbour's lot,

I say that line's a lapsus of the pen ;-
Strange too in my "buon camerado" Scott,
So celebrated for his morals, when
My Jeffrey held him up as an example
To me ;-of which these morals are a sample.

XVII.

Well, if I don't succeed, I have succeeded,

" he not

And that's enough; succeeded in my youth,
The only time when much success is needed:
And my success produced what I in sooth
Cared most about; it need not now be pleaded—
Whate'er it was, 't was mine; I've paid, in truth,
Of late the penalty of such success,

But have not learn'd to wish it any

XVIII.

less.

That suit in Chancery, which some persons plead
In an appeal to the unborn, whom they,
In the faith of their procreative creed,
Baptize posterity, or future clay,-
To me seems but a dubious kind of reed
To lean on for support in any way;
Since odds are that posterity will know
No more of them, than they of her, I trow.

XIX.

Why, I'm posterity-and so are you;

And whom do we remember? Not a hundred.

Were every memory written down all true,

The tenth or twentieth name would be but blunder'd:

Even Plutarch's Lives have but pick'd out a few,

And 'gainst those few your annalists have thunder'd ; And Mitford, in the nineteenth century,

Gives, with Greek truth, the good old Greek the lie. '

XX.

Good people all, of every degree,

Ye gentle readers and ungentle writers,
In this twelfth canto 't is my wish to be
As serious as if I had for inditers
Malthus and Wilberforce: the last set free

The negroes, and is worth a million fighters;
While Wellington has but enslaved the whites,
And Malthus does the thing 'gainst which he writes.

XXI.

I'm serious-so are all men upon paper:
And why should I not form my speculation,
And hold up to the sun my little taper?

Mankind just now seem rapt in meditation
On constitutions and steam-boats of vapour;
While sages write against all procreation,
Unless a man can calculate his means
Of feeding brats the moment his wife weans.

XXII.

That's noble! that 's romantic! For my part,
I think that" philo-genitiveness" is-
(Now here's a word quite after my own heart,

Though there's a shorter a good deal than this, If that politeness set it not apart;

But I'm resolved to say nought that's amiss)— I say, methinks that "philo-genitiveness" Might meet from men a little more forgiveness.

XXIII.

And now to business. Oh, my gentle Juan!
Thou art in London-in that pleasant place
Where every kind of mischief 's daily brewing,

Which can await warm youth in its wild race.
'T is true, that thy career is not a new one,
Thou art no novice in the headlong chase
Of early life; but this is a new land,
Which foreigners can never understand.

XXIV.

What with a small diversity of climate,

Of hot or cold, mercurial or sedate,
I could send forth my mandate like a primate,
Upon the rest of Europe's social state;

But thou art the most difficult to rhyme at,

Great Britain, which the Muse may penetrate :

All countries have their "lions," but in thee
There is but one superb menagerie.

XXV.

But I am sick of politics. Begin,
"Paulo majora." Juan, undecided
Amongst the paths of being "taken in,

Above the ice had like a skaiter glided: When tired of play, he flirted without sin

With some of those fair creatures who have prided Themselves on innocent tantalization,

And hate all vice except its reputation.

XXVI.

But these are few, and in the end they make

Some devilish escapade or stir, which shows

That even the purest people may mistake

Their way through virtue's primrose paths of snows; And then men stare, as if a new ass spake

To Balaam, and from tongue to ear o'erflows

Quick-silver small talk, ending (if you note it)

With the kind world's amen-" Who would have thought it?"

XXVII.

The little Leila, with her orient eyes

And taciturn Asiatic disposition

(Which saw all western things with small surprise,

To the surprise of people of condition,

Who think that novelties are butterflies
To be pursued as food for inanition),

Her charming figure and romantic history,
Became a kind of fashionable mystery.

XXVIII.

The women much divided-as is usual

Amongst the sex in little things or great,

Think not, fair creatures, that I mean to abuse you all---
I have always liked you better than I state,
Since I've grown moral: still I must accuse you all
Of being apt to talk at a great rate;
And now there was a general sensation
Amongst you, about Leila's education.

XXIX.

In one point only were you settled-and

You had reason; 't was that a young child of Grace,

As beautiful as her own native land,

And far away, the last bud of her race,

Howe'er our friend Don Juan might command
Himself for five, four, three, or two years' space,

Would be much better taught beneath the eye
Of peeresses whose follies had run dry.

XXX.

So first there was a generous emulation,
And then there was a general competition
To undertake the orphan's education.

As Juan was a person of condition,
It had been an affront on this occasion
To talk of a subscription or petition;
But sixteen dowagers, ten unwed she-sages,
Whose tale belongs to "Hallam's Middle Ages,"

XXXI.

And one or two sad, separate wives, without

A fruit to bloom upon their withering boughBegg'd to bring up the little girl, and out,—

For that's the phrase that settles all things now, Meaning a virgin's first blush at a rout,

And all her points as thorough-bred to show : And I assure you, that like virgin honey

Tastes their first season (mostly if they 've money).

XXXII.

How all the needy honourable misters,

Each out-at-elbow peer, or desperate dandy, The watchful mothers and the careful sisters

(Who, by the by, when clever, are more handy At making matches, where "'t is gold that glisters," Than their he relatives), like flies o'er candy, Buzz round" the Fortune" with their busy battery, To turn her head with waltzing and with flattery!

XXXIII.

Each aunt, each cousin hath her speculation;

Nay, married dames will now and then discover Such pure disinterestedness of passion,

I've known them court an heiress for their lover. "Tantæne?" Such the virtues of high station,

Even in the hopeful isle, whose outlet 's "Dover!" While the poor rich wretch, object of these cares, Has cause to wish her sire had had male heirs.

XXXIV.

Some are soon bagg'd, but some reject three dozen. 'T is fine to see them scattering refusals

And wild dismay o'er every angry cousin
(Friends of the party), who begin accusals

Such as-" Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes last night, and yet say no to-day?