Classic Poem

THE GENTLEMAN'S QUALIFICATIONS DEBATED.

From different ways of thinking comes debate,
This we despise, and that we over-rate,
Just as the fancy takes, we love or hate:
Hence Whig and Tory live in endless jar,
And most of families in civil war:
Hence, 'mongst the easiest men beneath the skies,
E'en in their easy dome, debates arise:
As late they did with strength of judgment scan
Those qualities that form a gentleman.

First Tippermalloch pled, with Spanish grace,
That gentry only sprung from ancient race,
Whose names in old records of time were fix'd,
In whose rich veins some royal blood was mix'd.
I, being a poet sprung from a Douglas' loin,
In this proud thought did with the doctor join;
With this addition, if they could speak sense,
Ambitious I, ah! had no more pretence.
Buchanan, with stiff argument and bold,
Pled, gentry took its birth from powerful gold:
Him Hector Boece join'd; they argu'd strong;
Said they, " to wealth that title must belong;
" If men are rich, they 're gentle; and if not,
" You 'll own their birth and sense are soon
" forgot.
" Pray say, " said they, " how much respectful
" grace
" Demands an old red coat and mangled face?
" Or one, if he could like an angel preach,
" If he to no rich benefice can reach?
" E'en progeny of dukes are at a stand
" How to make out bare gentry without land. "
But still the doctor would not quit the field,
But that rich upstarts should to birth-right yield:
He grew more stiff, nor would the plea let go;
Said he was right, and swore it should be so.

But happy we, who have such wholesome laws,
Which, without pleading, can decide a cause.
To this good law recourse we had at last,
That throws off wrath, and makes our friendship fast;
In which the legislators laid the plot
To end all controversy by a vote.

Yet that we more good-humour might display,
We frankly turn'd the vote another way:
As in each thing we common topics shun,
So the great prize nor birth nor riches won.
The vote was carried thus: — that easy he
Who should three years a social fellow be,
And to our Easy Club give no offence,
After triennial trial, should commence
A gentleman; which gives as just a claim
To that great title, as the blast of fame
Can give to those, who tread in human gore,
Or those, who heap up hoards of coined ore;
Since, in our social friendship, nought 's design'd
But what may raise and brighten up the mind;
We aiming close to walk by virtue's rules,
To find true humour's self, and leave her shade to fools.