a good oak post;-whether they should rather be surmounted with a merry young Bacchus, or with a bunch of grapes; and, in fine, what mask is the most alluring and most irresistible. I perfectly well remember the little inn, where, under the words, "The Crooked Billet," a little piece of wood was displayed, twisted in the most fantastic manner; and another, known by a great gilt raven, before which a bird of that species hops about, perpetually croaking the sweetest notes of invitation. Luckily the people there are not superstitious; or, perhaps, much to the detriment of the host, they might think the place ominous.

The author of the work I propose can never be in want of materials; he will be able also to enliven his histories with the most agreeable reminiscences. How he may dilate over the Shakspeare's Head, or the Mitre Tavern, where Johnson and his Club used to hold their meetings! If he is inclined for satire and invective, where will he find a finer field than in declaiming against those herds of thieves and profligates, who make the Sign-post their refuge, their banner, and their rendezvous? If he be desirous of moralizing, he may talk, in two or three groans, about the increase of intemperance. Finally, if he be a "good Fellow," he may drink now and then a glass of beer at some of the neatest taps, to refresh him during his tedious and personal researches, and he will write most lustily against Hotels, Cafés, and, in fact, all places of hospitality which disdain the ancient and honourable ornaments of a Sign.

T. N.

TO JULIO,

ON HIS COMING OF AGE.

JULIO, while Fancy's tints adorn
The first bright beam of manhood's morn,
The cares of boyhood fleet away,
Like clouds before the face of day;
And
see, before your ravish'd eyes,

New hopes appear, new duties rise,
Restraint has left his iron throne,
And Freedom smiles on twenty-one.

Count o'er the friends, whom erst you knew When careless boyhood deem'd them true, With whom you wiled the lazy hours Round fond Etona's classic towers, Or strayed beside the learned mud Of ancient Cam's meand'ring flood; The follies that in them you view, Shall be a source of good to you.

With mincing gait, and foreign air,
Sir Philip strays through park and square,
Or yawns in Grange's sweet recess,
In all the studied ease of dress;
Aptly the manling's tongue, I deem,
Can argue on a lofty theme,-
Which damsel hath the merrier eye,
Which fop the better-fancied tie,
Which perfume hath the sweeter savour,
Which soup the more inviting flavour;

And Fashion, at Sir Philip's call,
Ordains the collar's rise and fall,
And shifts the Brummel's varying hue,
From blue to brown, from brown to blue.

And hence the motley crowd whoe'er Bear Fashion's badge-or wish to bear, From Hockley-hole to Rotten-row, Unite to dub Sir Philip-beau.

And such is Fashion's empty fameSquire Robert loaths the very name; The rockets hiss, the bonfires blaze, The peasants gape in still amaze; The field unplough'd-the ox unyoked, The farmer's mouth with pudding choked, The sexton's vest of decent brown, The village maiden's Sunday gown, In joyful union seem to say,

Squire Robert is of age to-day."

The bumpkins hurry to the Bell,
And clam'rous tongues in riot swell;
Anger is hot and so is liquor;
They drink confusion to the Vicar-
And shout and song from lad and lass,
And broken heads-and broken glass,
In concert horrible, declare
Their loyal rev'rence for the heir.

Right justly may the youthful squire
These transports in his slaves inspire;
At every fireside through the place
He's welcome as the curate's grace;
He tells his story, cracks his joke,
And drinks his ale, "like other folk;"

Fearless he risks that cranium thick
At cudgelling and singlestick;
And then his stud!-Why! far and wide
It is the county's chiefest pride!

Ah! had his steed no firmer brains
Than the mere thing that holds the reins,
Grief soon would bid the beer to run
Because the squire's mad race was done,
Not less than now it froths away,
Because "the squire's of age to day."

Far different pomp inspired of old
The youthful Roman's bosom bold,
Soon as a father's honour'd hand
Gave to his grasp
the casque
and brand,
And off the light prætexta threw,
And from his neck the bulla drew,
Bade him the toga's foldings sean,
And glory in the name of " Man."
Far different pomp lit ardour high
In the young German's eager eye,
When, bending o'er his offspring's head,.
An aged sire half-weeping said,--

66

Thy duty to thy father done,

Go forth-and be thy country's son."
Heav'ns! how his bosom burn'd to dare
The grim delight of manhood's war,
And brandish in no mimic field
His beaming lance and osier shield:
How his young bosom long'd to claim
In war's wide tumult manhood's name,
And write it, 'midst the battle's foam,
In the best blood of trembling Rome!

Such was the hope, the barbarous joy,
That nerved to arms the German boy;
A flame as ardent, more refined,
Shall brightly glow in Julio's mind;
But

VOL. I.

yet I'd rather see thee smile
Grimly on war's embattled file,
I'd rather see thee wield in strife
The German butcher's reckless knife,
Thinking thy claims to manhood grow
From each pale corse that bleeds below ;-

M

I'd rather view thee thus, than see
A modern blockhead rise in thee.

Is it a study for a Peer

To breathe soft vows in lady's ear,
To choose a coat-or leap a gate,
To win an heiress—or a plate?

Far nobler studies shall be thine-
So Friendship and the Muse divine:
It shall be yours, in danger's hour,
To guide the helm of British power,
And 'midst thy country's laurell'd crown
To mix a garland all thine own.

Julio, from this auspicious day,
New honours gild thine onward way;
In thee Posterity shall view

A heart to faith and feeling true,

And Fame her choicest wreaths shall blend,
For Virtue's, and the poor man's friend.

TO JULIA,

PREPARING FOR HER FIRST SEASON IN TOWN.

JULIA, while London's fancied bliss

Bids you despise a life like this,

While

and its joys you leave,

For hopes, that flatter to deceive,

You will not scornfully refuse,

(Though dull the theme, and weak the Muse,)

To look upon my line, and hear

What Friendship sends to Beauty's ear.