The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany. Part 1 — Themes and Context

Addison had earlier, of course, been at pains to distinguish between "true wit" and "false wit." Particularly abhorrent to him was the rebus. The first part of _The Merry-Thought_ alone contains seven rebuses from "_Drinking-Glasses, at a private Club of Gentlemen_" (pp. 12-13), as well as several examples of other kinds of "wit" which Addison would have disdained.

During the twenty-five years that followed the publication of the _Merry-Thought_ series, a few additional pieces of graffiti were published in England and America.[13] In 1761 _The New Boghouse Miscellany_ appeared, but the contents of this book had little in common with the _Merry-Thought_ pamphlets. Only the scatological humor of the subtitle:

_A Companion for the Close-stool._ Consisting of Original Pieces in Prose and Verse by several Modern Authors. Printed on an excellent soft Paper; and absolutely necessary for all those, who read with a View to Convenience, as well as Delight. Revised and corrected by a Gentleman well skilled in the Fundamentals of Literature, near Privy-Garden

and the generally anti-intellectual thrust of its preface were reminiscent of the _Merry-Thought_ pamphlets. Not until the last half of the twentieth century would the graffito in English receive the kind of attention that had been paid it in England in the 1730s.

[Footnote 13: See, for example, _The Scarborough Miscellany_ (London, 1732), pp. 34, 35; _The Connoisseur_, April 11, 1754, p. 87; _The New American Magazine_, No. 12, December, 1758.]

University of California

_The Merry-Thought: or, The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_ is reproduced from a copy of the third edition in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library. A typical type page (p. 20) measures 173 x 87 mm.

Glass-Window and Bog-House

The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_.

Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which are intermixed the Lucubrations of the polite Part of the World, written upon Walls in Bog-houses, _&c._

_Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO.

_Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, Gameyorum a Gamy, Flumarum a Flumarum, A Rigdum Bollarum A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._

Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields.

The Third Edition; with very Large Additions and Alterations.

Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._]

_N. B._ Some Pieces having been inadvertently inserted in the Second Part of this Miscellany, whoever it is that shall hereafter send any Thing which reflects on the Character, &c. of any Person, whether it be a Nobleman, or a Link-Boy, shall receive no Favour from our Hands.

Honourable and Worthy Authors of the following Curious Pieces.

Gentlemen and Ladies,

_Would it not be great Pity, that the profound Learning and Wit of so many illustrious Personages, who have favoured the Publick with their Lucubrations in Diamond Characters upon _Drinking-Glasses_, on _Windows_, on _Walls_, and in _Bog-houses_, should be left to the World? Consider only, Gentlemen and Ladies, how many Accidents might rob us of these sparkling Pieces, if the industrious Care of the Collector had not taken this Way of preserving them, and handing them to Posterity. In the first Place, some careless Drawer breaks the Drinking-Glasses inscribed to the Beauties of our Age; a furious Mob at an Election breaks the Windows of a contrary Party; and a cleanly Landlord must have, forsooth, his Rooms new painted and white-wash'd every now and then, without regarding in the least the Wit and Learning he is obliterating, or the worthy Authors, any more than when he shall have their Company: But I may venture to say, That good Things are not always respected as they ought to be: The People of the World will sometimes overlook a Jewel, to avoid a T--d, though the Proverb says, _Sh - tt - n Luck is good Luck_. Nay, I have even found some of the _Spectator_'s Works in a Bog-house, Companion with Pocky-Bills and Fortune-telling Advertisements; but now, as Dr. _R----ff_ said, _You shall live_; and I dare venture to affirm, no Body shall pretend to use any of your bright Compositions for Bum-Fodder, but those who pay for them. I am not in this like many other Publishers, who make the Works of other People their own, without acknowledging the Piracy they are guilty of, or so much as paying the least Complement to the Authors of their Wisdom: No, Gentlemen and Ladies, I am not the Daw in the Fable, that would vaunt and strut in your Plumes. And besides, I know very well you might have me upon the Hank according to Law, and treat me as a Highwayman or Robber; for you might safely swear upon your Honours, that I had stole the whole Book from your recreative Minutes. But I am more generous; I am what you may call Frank and Free; I acknowledge them to be _YOURS_, and now publish them to perpetuate the Memory of your Honours Wit and Learning: But as every one must have something of Self in him, I am violently flattered, that my Character will shine like the Diamonds you wrote with, under your exalted Protection, to the End of Time. I am not like your common Dedicators, who fling out their Flourishes for the sake of a Purse of Guineas on their Dedicatees; No, Gentlemen and Ladies, all I desire is, that you will receive this kindly, though I have not put Cuts to it, and communicate what sublime Thoughts you may chance to meet with to the Publisher, _J. Roberts_, in _Warwick-Lane_, Post paid, for_

And Most Faithful Servant,

_Madam Catherine Cadiere's Case opened, against Father Girard's powerful Injunction. In a Window at Maidenhead._

My dearest _Kitty_, says the _Fryar_, } Give me a holy Kiss, and I'll retire, } Which Kiss set all his Heart on Fire. } He had no Rest that Night, but often cry'd, } Z - - - nds, my dear _Kitty_ shall be occupy'd; } I'll lay aside my Rank, I will not be deny'd. } To-morrow I'll try her, Said the Fryar; And so he went to her, And did undoe her, By making her cry out for Mercy; And then he kiss'd her _Narsey-Parsey_.

Dear _Kitty_ could never have suffered Disgrace, } If whilst the old Fryar was kissing her A - - - se, } She'd pull'd up her Spirits, and sh - - t in his Face. }

_From an hundred Windows._

That which frets a Woman most, Is when her Expectation's crost.

_Sun behind the Exchange._

_To Mr. _D-----b_, on his being very hot upon Mrs. _N. S._ _1714_._

When the Devil would commit a Rape. He took upon him _Cupid_'s Shape: When he the Fair-One met, at least, They kiss'd and hugg'd, or hugg'd and kiss'd; But she in amorous Desire, Thought she had _Cupid_'s Dart, But got Hell Fire, And found the Smart.

_N. B._ And then the Surgeon was sent for.

_From the White-Hart at Acton._

_Kitty_ the strangest Girl in Life, For any one to make a Wife; Her Constitution's cold, with warm Desire, She kisses just like Ice and Fire.

_At the Bear-Inn, Spinham-Land._

E V A N K it is a Word of Fame, Spell it backwards, 'tis your Name.

Find it out if 'tis your Name,

_At the Cranes, Edgeworth._

As I walk'd by myself, I said to myself. And myself said again to me: Look to thyself, Take Care of thyself, For no Body cares for thee. Then I myself Thus answer'd myself, With the self-same Repartee: Look to thyself, Or look not to thyself, 'Tis the self-same Thing to me.

_On a Frier who cuckol'd a Dyer at Roan in France; and the Dyer's Revenge in dying him _Blue_._

There was a topping Dyer, Was cuckol'd by a Frier: He saw the Case, How bad it was, And feign'd to take a Journey, Saying softly, Madam, ---- burn ye But stopping by the Way He saw the Priest full gay, Running fast to his House, To tickle his Spouse: 'Tis d----n'd vile, thinks the Dyer, But away went the Frier. I'll be with you anon, Says the Dyer, ---- go on, And as I am blunt, If I find you have don't, I'll dye you for Life, For debauching my Wife; And as good as his Word, For he car'd not a T - - d, Away goes the Dyer, Caught his Wife with the Frier. And led the Monk down, And pickled him soon, In a Dye-Fat of Blue, } Which he ever will rue, } 'Twas so lasting a Hue; } And that spoilt his hunting, A Twelve-month or two, _&c._

_On a Tavern Window in Fleet-Street._

_An Address to our present Petit-Maitres._

No more let each fond foppling court a Brother, And quit the Girls to dress for one another; Old maids, in Vengeance to their slighted Beauty, Shall one Day make you wish you'd done your Duty; Thro' H - - ll they drag ye on most aukward Shapes, Yoak'd in their Apron-Strings, and led for Apes.

_Written under a Couple of paultry Verses, in a _Woman_'s Hand._

Immodest Words admit of no Defence; For Want of Decency is want of Sense.

_Eaton, on a Window._

_A Discourse by Numbers and Figures._

When I came to V, We made IV of us II; Yet I took the Right Hand, And then what came of V?

V was lesser by I Then V had been beIV: But an L and some Xes Would make V LXXX.

If V could C as well as I, 'Tis a hundred to one, but I comply; Then V and I together fix, I'll stand by V, and make V VI.

_On a Window in Mainwaring's Coffee-House, Fleet-Street._

If Kisses were the only Joys in Bed, Then Women would with one another wed.

Let _Jove_ his _Juno_, and his _Nectar_ boast, Champain's my Liquor, and Miss _K - - - g_ my Toast.

_Rumford on a Window._

When full of Pence, I was expensive, And now I've none, I'm always pensive.

Then be at no Expence And you'll have no Suspence.

_Dean's Yard, Westminster, in Charcoal, on a Wall, a Verse to be read upwards or downwards or arsey-versey the same._

S A T O R A R E P O T E N E T O P E R A R O T A S

_Maidenhead, in a Window._

_In a Window, In a Window, I saw a Cat lick her Ear in a Window._

Nay, Sir, ---- she cry'd, I'll swear I won't. I vow I never yet have don't! Lord! Pray, Sir, do not press me so; I'll call for all the Folks below. Good Lord! what is't? You're very rude; And then she acted like a Prude. And then, Like Birds of a Feather, They flock'd together.

_Rebuses on Drinking-Glasses, at a private Club of Gentlemen._

_Miss Wall-sing-ham._

What encloses a Plat, as I wish her dear Arms Had my Body encompass'd, with Nightingale's Charms, And the Leg of an Hog, gives my dearest her Name. Her Beauties so great set my Heart on a Flame.

_Rebus on Miss Nick-ells._

Take the Devil's short Name, And much more than a Yard, You've the Name of the Dame I shall ever regard.

_Rebus on Miss S. Bell._

The greatest Noise on Sundays made, Tells us her Name in Masquerade, Whom I must kiss, ---- or be a _Shade_.

_Rebus for Miss M. Cotton._

One of the softest Things in Nature, Beareth the Name of my dear Creature.

_Rebus on Miss Anne Oliv-er._

A Pickle of excellent Growth, } And to *_Sin_ against the Truth, } Tells the Name of a Virgin of Beauty and Youth. }

_Rebus on Miss Par-sons._

A famous Old Man of Old Time, } And his Children, the Males of his Line, } Give the Name of my Beauty Divine. }

_Rebus on Miss Har-ring-ton._

The Pleasure of the Sportsman's Chase; The Pledge in Matrimonial Case, With Twenty Hundred Weight beside, Name her I wish to make my Bride.

_At Epsom on a Window._

When my brisk Lass Upon the Grass, Will sport, and _Give_ her Love; She'll wink and pink, Till she can't think; That's Happiness, by _Jove!_

_Per Jovem Juro._ J. M.

_The following is in a _Caberet_ Window at _Paris_, to be read forwards and backwards the same._

Roma tibi subito motibus ibit amor.

_The Three Last Words, the Criticks tell us, spells in English, _The Devil take you_._

_Chagrin come le Diable:_ For a Girl has spoil't my _Bauble_.

_A Heathen Greek Line from a Wall at Westminster._

_Souldramaton, Acapon, Alphagoose, Pastiveneson._

Shoulder of Mutton, a Capon, half a Goose, Pasty of Venison.

_In Dog-Latin at the same Place._

_O mirum Fartum, Perigrinum Gooseberrytartum._

_N.B._ _Fartum_ is the only _Latin_ Word for Pudding: And as far as I can trace it amongst the Antients, there is no _Latin_ for a Gooseberry-Tart; so that the Lad who writ it, had no need to Apologize for making a Word or two: As for _Fartum_, 'tis allow'd in our Times; for we say _Fartum pistum_, is a _baked Pudding_; and _Fartum coctum_ is a _boiled Pudding_: And if the Boy loved these Things, what is it to us; let every one mind his own Business.

_Brentford at the Red-Lion, the Great Room._

Says Sir _John_ to my Lady, as together they sat, Shall we first go to Supper, or do you know what? Dear Sir _John_, (with a Smile,) return'd the good Lady, Let us do you know what, for Supper's not ready.

_Bridgnorth, at the Crown._

_Jenny_ had got a Cl - p, Which was my Mishap: But Doctor _R----_ set me right, And I'm now in good Plight.

January 30. 1720. J. W.

_At the Swan at Chelsea, in one of the Summer-Houses; supposed to be written by One who lost his Estate in the South-Sea Year._

Damn the Joke Of all the Folk: I've lost my Estate; And all Men I hate: I shall look through a Grate, For I see 'tis my Fate. The Devil take the Bubbles, I'm in a Pack of Troubles,

_Under this is wrote,_

Happy's the Man That well could scan, Which way his Fortune led him: I have got what he lost, I am gay while he's cross'd, So adieu to good Mr. _B----n_.

_Upon a Clock in Tavistock-Street, Covent-Garden, 1712._

I have no Legs, And yet I go and stand: And when I stand, I lie; Witness my Hand;

_Mentiri non est meum._

_From a Window at Spring-Gardens, Vaux-Hall._

Exil'd from _London_, happy could I live, Were this my Paradise, and this my _Eve_.

_At the Cardinal's-Cap at Windsor._

_Michael Hunt's Health._

Here's a Health to _Mich. Hunt_, And to _Mich. Hunt_'s Breeches; And why may not I scratch _Mich. Hunt_, When _Mich. Hunt_ itches.

The Clock goes as swift as the Hours that fly, When together in Bed are my _Chloe_ and I: But when she is gone, I bemoan my hard Fate, It is Millions of Years till she knocks at my Gate.

D--n the Clock for its Inconstancy; to give me Moments and Ages in the same Time! O my _Chloe_!

_From a Window in Chancery-Lane._

Here did I lay my _Celia_ down; I got the P - x, and she got half a Crown.

Give and take; Weight for Inches.

_From a Bog-House at Hampton-Court, supposed to be written by a violent Lover._

Oh! that I were a T - - - d, a T - - - d, Hid in this secret Place, That I might see my _Betsy_'s A----, Though she sh - - t me in my Face.

_Written under this in a Woman's Hand._

'Tis Pity but you had your Wish.

_Nottingham, at the Castle: _Jack N----_ cured._

The Five and twentieth Day of _July_, When _Jack_ with Liquor grew unruly, In comes Sir _Richard_ with a Quart, And drank him till he broke his Heart; So down dropp'd _Jack_ Upon his Back, And lay, Till Day, And went away.

_Catherine-Wheel, High-Wickham, upon a Window._

_Salley_'s my Toast from Head to Tail; Not half so good is Toast and Ale.

_J. S._ Esq; of _Oriel-College, Oxon._

_Three-Pigeons, Brentford, in a Window._

How vain the Hopes of Woman's Love, While all their Hearts inconstant prove; Nor _M - - - - k_, nor will _Dolly_ come; Nor _Sukey_ with her thumping B--m; Nor _Molly_ with her flaring Eyes; Nor _Nancy_ with her bouncing Thighs: If one don't come, my Curse is this, That they may never sh - - t nor p - - ss.

Six in the Morning, R. R. of _Oxford_.

_Three-Pigeons, Brentford, upon a Drinking-Glass._

Dear charming lovely _Nancy L-- --r_, Thou art my only Toast, I swear.

T. T. from _Coventry_, _Feb._ 13. 1716.

_On another at the same Place._

My dearest _Sukey Percivall_, Is all my Toast, and that is all.

Captain _F----l_, _July_ 4. 1716.

_Red-Lion, at Southwell, in a Window._

_Clarinda_ lay here With a young Cavalier; With her Heart full of Fear, For her Husband was near.

L. L. _Feb._ 2. 1728.

'Tis very true; for we saw _Rem-in-Re_ through the Key-Hole. S. M. } J. M. } _Feb._ 3. 1728. R. H, }

If the Husband had come, And had seen his Wife's B - - m, He'd a known by her Looks, She'd been playing ---- At Hoy Gammer Cooks.

S. B. _March_ 3. 1728.

_Windsor, the White-Hart, in a Window._

Now is my latest Guinea chang'd, And gone where it was used to range: When that was broke, it broke my Heart; For now for ever we must part, Unless I boldly meet it on the Road, And bid the Porter give it me, by G - d. And so I'll do; _Tom. Stout_ Will see it out, _Feb._ 2.

Win it and take it, says Captain _Hector_: I defy the bold Robber; and I have an hundred Guineas that I shall travel with to-morrow.

_At the Cardinal's-Cap In Windsor, on a Window._

_J. F._ is fifteen, and so charming her Mien, } Her Eyes are like Brilliants, her Looks are serene, } And one Kiss from her Lips is worth ten from a Queen. }

_At the same Place, on the Wall._

Never had Mortal greater Wit Than I who ever wanted it; But now my Wants have made me scrawl, And rhyme and write the Devil and all.

_On a Summer-House near Farnham in Surrey._

I, C, U, B Y Y for me.

_The Reading of it is supposed to be, _viz.__

I see you be Too wise for me.

_Star-Inn, Coventry._

Tell me where is Fancy bred? } In the Heart, or in the Head? } How begot, how nourished? }

Had not _Celia_ come this Way, My Heart would be my own this Day, Fancy's engendered in the Eyes, With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the same Cradle where it lies; For she's a Wh-re, and I despise.

_At the Leg-Tavern, Fleet-Street. We suppose an Attempt to put the Lives of Adam and Eve, and their Sons, into Verse._

Mr. _Adam_ he was, the first Man alive, And he married a fine young Gentlewoman, call'd Mrs. _Eve_. And Mr. _Adam_ and Mrs. _Eve_, between them twain Got a pretty little Boy, called Master _Cain_.

_At the Catherine-Wheel at Henley._

_CLELIA's Epitaph, who was slander'd to Death._

Death, to vindicate her Wrongs, Gives her Fame which never dies; So the Life that died with Shame, Lives in Death with glorious Fame.

_R. S._ _Oct. 17. 1708_.

Three Bottles of _Burgundy_, and a brisk Lass, With a thousand of _Grigs_, should it e'er come to pass, Would make me behave my self just like an Ass.

_L. M._ of _Oxon_, 1709.

_From the Temple Bog-House._

No Hero looks so fierce in Fight, As does the Man who strains to sh-te.

_From the Crown at Basingstoke, which was, in Ben Johnson's Time, the Sign of the Angel, and then inhabited by Mrs. Hope, and her Daughter Prudence. As Tradition informs us, Ben Johnson was acquainted with the House; and in some Time, when he found strange People there, and the Sign changed, he wrote the following Lines._

When _Hope_ and _Prudence_ kept this House, The _Angel_ kept the Door; Now _Hope_ is dead, And the _Angel_ fled, And _Prudence_ turn'd a Whore.

_From the Bear at Oxford, by a Gentleman who had been affronted at the Angel._

They are all Bears at the _Angel_, And all Angels at the _Bear_.

N.B. _There are very pretty Girls at the _Bear_._

_In a Boghouse at Richmond._

To preserve our good Health, Let us let a good F - - - t; It is better than Wealth, It will comfort your Heart: And when you have done, With the Crack of your B - - m, Bend your Knees, And then squeeze, And something will come, You'll be better, tho' it's not so big as your Thumb.

_Crown at Basingstoke._