MORALS FOR THE MILLION.
There's nothing, in the present day,
That's done by halves; all's in the wholesale way.
We've singing for the million, not the few,
And now we've writing for the million too.
The penny post has raised a batch,
Who manifest such zeal,
In scribbling with their pens of steel,
They seem to be inspired by Old Scratch.
The singing for the million's very well;
And if they would but tune the postman's bell,
Or make the dustman keep
Within the rules of harmony,
By always giving out his cry
In octaves, with the sweep;
Or, if the muffin-man could only be
Persuaded to adopt the treble key,
So that his voice in melody might rise,
And as a tenor might be reckon'd,
Supported by the deep bass second
Of him whose song is—"Here's your kidney pies!"
In anybody's system we'll believe
That can such excellent results achieve;
If methods for the million thrive,
No doubt the time will soon arrive
When schools will by the multitude be sought,
Where morals for the million will be taught.
Then honesty will out of fashion go;
And virtue, if it sinks to the mobility,
Of course, by all pretending to gentility
Will then be voted low.
If, in the present day,
'Tis thought much spirit to display
To steal a street-door knocker, or a bell,
Why not, in time, take handkerchiefs as well?
As the élite of fashion will be few,
Policemen will have little then to do
Cases of robbery to detect,
For thieving will be so select.
Morality will then be taught
In every alley, lane, and court;
The principles of honour to instil
They'll open schools on Saffron Hill.
St. Giles will be the most revered of names,
And the swell mob may then be found
In western rookeries to abound—
Their sanctuary the clubs that grace St. James.
New Saint Giles's—Morals for the Million.