We left Dr. Syntax nearly at the end of his Adventures...
Selections from Canto 21:
Dr. Syntax is about to set out for the day when his horse Grizzle is brought
around and he is delighted to find his mare’s lack of ears and tail have been “replaced.”
Upon her stump a tail
appears;
So chang'd she was, so
gay, so smart,
Deck'd out with so much
curious art,
That even Syntax hardly
dare
To claim his
metamorphos'd mare.
He said no more — but kenn'd
the joke
Was not the sport of
vulgar folk;
So trotted off—-and
kindly lent
His smile to aid the
merriment. ...
Dr. Syntax Preaching c. 1790, Art Institute of Chicago
Derby Porcelain Manufactory, soft-paste porcelain with polychrome enamel decoration
He soon decides to stop and attend church…
To the first church I
will repair.
And pay my solemn duties
there.
Thus as he spoke, a
village chime
Denoted it was service
time:
And soon a ruddy Curate
came,
To whom he gravely told
his name,
His rank and literary
fame;
And said, as he'd been us'd
to teaching,
He'd give him half an
hour's preaching.
This was accepted with a
smile.
And they both strutted up
the aisle;
When, in due time, and
with due grace,
Syntax display'd his
preaching face.
And in grave tones,
though somewhat hoarse,
He gave the following
discourse…
Syntax preaching
“Glory's eternal crown to share.
Which Cherubs sing, and
Angels wear:
Then is complete th'
amazing plan.
And Mortal is Immortal
Man."
Here Syntax thought it
fit to close;-
Th' admiring
congregation rose;
And after certain hems
and ha's,
The 'Squire nodded his
applause;
Nay, such attention he
had given
To the sage Minister of
Heaven,
That neither did he
sleep nor snore —
A wonder never known
before.
Then quickly issuing
from his pew.
He came to thank the
Doctor too.
“Sir, your discourse, so
good and fine,
Proves you to be a great
divine,
While I, alas! am but a
sinner;
So you'll go home with
me to dinner.
Dr. Syntax has a good dinner, is invited to spend the night.
Selections from Canto 22
The next morning, Dr. Syntax and Grizzle head off toward home, and
stop for a rest,
But now a trumpet's
warlike sound
'Woke Syntax from his
dream profound;
While Grizzle frisk'd,
and mov'd on straight,
With many a prancing, to
the gate,
Where, in a gorgeous cap
of fur.
Stood the proclaiming
Trumpeter ,
With face as the old
Lion red,
Which dangling hung
above his head.
"Oh!" he
exclaim'd, "I now could swear
I see again the Grizzle
mare;
I know her well by that
same scar
Which she got with me in
the war…
Now Syntax sat and heard
the story
The soldier told of
England's glory;
How British columns
fought their way,
And drove the foe, and
won the day:
How oft he did his
breath enlarge.
To call to arms and
sound the charge;
But, though he rous'd to
many a feat,
He never sounded a
retreat.
Still he declaim’d in
modest tone,
For England's glory was
his own. …
It has just come into my
mind
To leave poor Grizzle
here behind.
And let some stage or
mail convey
My bags and me my onward
way.
Perhaps, for
old-acquaintance sake,
Of my poor beast the
care you'll take."
"If so," the
Trumpeter replied,
"'Twill be my
honour and my pride.
God bless your
Rev'rence, — never fear —
Your mare shall have
protection here ;
When you return, her
looks will tell.
That her old friend has
us'd her well."
Of some convenient,
rapid coach;
And soon a vehicle and four
Appear'd at the Red Lion
door;
Into his place the
Doctor pounc'd;
The coachman smack'd,
and off they bounc'd. …
After a rather uncomfortable trip, Dr. Syntax arrives in London
and wonders where to stay.
In knocking at his
Lordship's gate.
At that same gate he
soon appear'd;
My Lord with smiles the
Doctor cheer'd.
"You have done
well, my learned friend.
Hither your early steps
to bend;
Bus'ness has brought me
up to town,
And thus you find me all
alone:
Here pitch your tent and
pass your hour
In working up your
pleasant Tour;
And, when 'tis done,
I'll aid your scheme —
It shall not prove an
idle dream."
Syntax receiv'd his
Lordship's grace
With moisten'd eye, but
smiling face,
And for ten days, at
morn and night,
He toil'd to bring his
book to light…
My Lord, by gen'rous
friendship mov'd,
Now read his Volume, and
approv'd,
"Think not,"
said he, "I fondly give
Opinions, tending to
deceive:
That I'm sincere, my
friend, you'll see.
When I declare that you
are free
To dedicate your Book to
me;
Nor is this all — I'll
recommend
My very pleasant,
learned friend
To one who has as
lib'ral feeling
As any in this kind of
dealing;
And when my letter you
present,
Hell take the work, and
give content.
Thus, my good Sir, I've
done my best:
You'll see him and
explain the rest." …
With care and candour on
this Book;
And tell me whether you
think fit
To buy, or print, or
publish it?
The subject which the
work contains
Is Art and Nature's fair
domains;
'Tis form'd the curious
to allure; —
In short, good man, it
is a Tour;
With drawings all from
nature made.
And with no common skill
displayed;:
Each house, each place,
each lake, each tree,
These fingers drew —
these eyes did see."
Your work transcends his
utmost praise;
Desires the printing may
commence,
And he'll be bound for
the expense.
The book will sell, I
have no doubt,
I'll spare no pains to
bring it out:
A work like this must
not be stinted.
Two thousand copies
shall be printed.”
Though foes they met —
they parted friends.
Selections from Canto 23
…His little journey at an end.
The Doctor join'd his
noble friend:
Together they in comfort
dine.
Then munch'd their
cakes, and sipp'd their wine
When Syntax, briefly,
thus display'd
His parley with the man
of trade.
"I owe unto your
Lordship's name
My future gains in gold
and fame. …
Syntax
"To your kind words
I've nought to say,
But thank your Lordship,
and obey.
And now, as twenty years
have pass'd
Since I beheld fair
London last,
I shall employ the
present day
In strolling calmly to
survey
What changes time and
chance have made,
What wealth has done,
and art essay'd.
What taste has, in its
fancies, shown.
To give new splendour to
the town;
That being done, I’11
take my way
To Covent Garden — to
the play."
Dr. Syntax at Covent Garden Theatre
…(Syntax) hasten'd to
the playhouse door,
And took his place
within the pit,
Beside a critic and a
wit.
As wits and critics now
are known,
Who hash up nonsense for
the town;
And in the daily
colunms show
How small the sum of all
they know. …
The conversation was
renew'd.
And lasted till the
whole was o'er;
When, as they pass'd the
playhouse door.
The Critic said, —
"'Twill wound my heart
If you and I so soon
must part:
Oh, how I long to crack
a bottle
With such a friend of
Aristotle! “…
When fairly got into the
street,
"Oh," thought
the Doctor, "what a treat
For my good Lord, when
next we meet!"
End canto 23
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