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There he goes,

and enlightened entertainment, and is himself so much out of his ordinary expecting their bland and laudatory way on such groundless suspicion of smiles, he is a good deal alarmed to meditated injury. descry on every countenance the most In a pastoral country, on a hot day, unequivocal symptoms of mingled one often sees a great fat lazy bullock scorn, derision, and disgust.

rise suddenly up from his lair, and set We have all of us seen something off, to use a homely and familiar exlike this happen to professed wags. pression, as if the devil were chasing The face of blank discomfiture worn him. Some insect has probably stung on such critical occasions outlistons him in a tender part. Liston. The chuckling, crowing, walloping along with his huge head wing-clapping bird of game, is at once lumbering about in all directions,changed into a screeching fugitive bellowing in the most unseemly and dunghill fowl. He bolts out of the unbecoming manner-and his long pit—his steel-heels are taken off-he tufted tail either brandished about is set loose among the adjacent poule like a flail, or fixed in a line perpenditry, and cock, hen, and chicken, pur- cular to the horizon. Meanwhile, all sue him en masse through all the lanes the other beasts of the field remain blind and clear, till he hides himself stock still—till he has circled and inin a dunghill, from which, when all tersected the pasture into every posis still, and nothing at hand but some sible figure, with every eye fixed upon pacific female earock, (a year-old fowl him. It soon appears, that all this disscottice) he comes stealing out again turbance is solely owing to the miwith the feathers all standing on end nister of the parish having come sudat the back of his head, and after look- denly upon the vision of the bullock, ing pretty cautiously around him for a who suspects him for an enemy, and few minutes, he at last ventures to gazes with consternation on the honest crow, in a rough, hoarse, agitated man's cocked hat. By degrees the scraugh, ludicrously expressive

at one bullock becomes familiarised with the and the same time, of courage and of clerical dress, and lays himself down, cowardice. So is it with Menippus. with a lengthening groan, once more

The simile is a figure of speech of into his tallowy laziness, and then bewhich I am very fond, and in which I gins chewing his cud with a face of am much mistaken if I do not excel. calm heavy stupidity, altogether irreHere then is another. Whoever has concilable with the idea of his former strolled much about, either in town or unweildy gambols. Menippus is that country, may have seen a pig feeding bullock,--and Dr Chalmers is that dia on offal, filth, and garbage. Such vine. pig no sooner beholds you, even I ought, however, to beg the Bagthough you be moving quite out of man's pardon for supposing him to be his orbit, than off he sets as if you Menippus. It is not so.

The Bagwere chasing him, grunting and man has lately been too much employsqueaking, it would be hard to sayed, along with his elegant coadjutors whether in fear, in sorrow, or in an- of the Glasgow Chronicle, with politiger. But however that may be, grunt- cal and literary speculations, to have ing and squeaking long and loudly. any leisure time for theology. BeHe then wheels suddenly round, and sides, the prospect of his marriage comes cantering along as if he was go- must keep him busy. I am this moing to charge, using towards you every ment informed by our minister that insult that his imagination (which is Menippus is a Clergyman. vivid) can suggest. Menippus is just Tantæne animis celestibus iræ ? such a pig, and happening to meet Dr I confess that this intelligence distress. Chalmers, he must needs be grunting, es me. I will not review the pamphand exposing himself with his little let. It is not the first time that I red bleared eyes, and twisted tail, and have heard clergymen express a mean cloven trotters, and pendulous ears, and foolish jealousy of Dr Chalmers's and snivelling snout, in all the offend- splendid reputation. But I did ed majesty of' bristle and squeak, be- not think that there existed one so fore that worthy divine, who really has base and so blind, as to have been cano intention of disturbing him, and is pable of the self-degradation of this even sorry to see the animal putting pamphlet. Menippus in a manse !

Thersites in a pulpit! Punchinello at a of his gray-headed benefactor, lower sacramental table!

he cannot sink in shame and in sin. But, after all, Mr (I know But, my dear Editor, this is not at his name, but I will not expose him) all the style in which I usually write, is an object rather of pity than of an- and in good truth it is not like me thus ger. He has a good manse-a good to lose my temper, although perhaps stipend—what more would he have? I do well to be angry. The creature --and yet he cannot be happy. His has moved my spleen; the fit, howbroth is poisoned by the consciousness ever, has gone by, and that Menippus of his own utter insignificance, and may have no cause to complain of my when he sees a great and a good man over-severity (you may show him this serving his Maker on earth, like Dr letter), I will take leave of him in one Chalmers, with evangelical singleness more simile. of heart—and attracting towards him, Some years ago when I visited Leyin his worship of the Creator, the in- den, I called one beautiful star-light voluntary love and admiration of his evening on Professor Klopius, who, creatures-his heart fills with gall, like Dr Chalmers, loves and excels in and he can have no rest till he dis- the science of astronomy. His fine charges it towards that splendid and large telescope was pitched on a small victorious preacher. Pitiable, indeed, mound in his garden, and directed tois such a man—and truly would I pity wards the Evening Star, which the ashim did his offences stop here. But sisted eye beheld shining in steadfast the wretched thing is not satisfied with splendour and startling magnitude. the abuse of the living—he must in- The professor, myself, and a friend, sult the dead. He tries to turn into alternately enjoyed through his gloriridicule the late good, learned, and ous instrument, the divine face of the pious Dr Findlay, professor of divinity heavens,-and when we had all feastin the university of Glasgow. He ed our souls, we stood together talkstands scoffing beside the grave of him ing of the wonders of the modern aswhom all hearts loved. The sanctity tronomy. At that moment a tame of death, and the stillness of its narrow monkey, which the good professor, house, cannot touch the shrivelled who is somewhat of a humourist, is heart of this senseless buffoon, and very fond of, came hurkling along, that his guilt may want no aggravation, with long arms, bent knees, and poshe tells us, while the slaver of his im- teriors almost touching the ground, potent malignity is yet drivelling from and clapt his little grim absurd face, his lips, that he knew the good old with its bleared watering, eyes, close man well, and was under many obli- to the wrong end of the telescope, and gations to him! Know him well he holding up one of his paws to his could not. For what can ignorance right ear, as if he was listening to know of learning-craft of simplicity something, there he stood in a truly ---folly of wisdom-vice of virtue? philosophical attitude,-just such anGrant, that while a greasy student of other sort of an astronomer as Menipdivinity, he might have been once in a pus. He then withdrew himself from session admitted to the tea-table of the contemplation with an air of profound reverend old man? What could a rude abstraction, and joining the party with and indecent clown like him know of a a face of the most original solemnity learned divine ? But “ something too I ever beheld, began chattering away, much of this." The creature who for any thing I know to the contrary, once, and once only, had sat at the about that beautiful Evening Star. We table of Professor Findlay, and could could not chuse but burst into laughyet vent brutal jests over his grave, ter, except the professor, who looked must be lost indeed to every sacred at him with primitive simplicity, and feeling of humanity. One word of only exclaimed, “Ah, Tom, Tom, so disrespect from a young to an old man, you are pleased to be a wit!” has something shocking in it,-but I am yours truly, when a young man insults the ashes

TIMOTHY TICKLER. Southside, Aug. 8, 1818.

OR, THE FATE OF THE BRAUNS.

A POEM, IN TWENTY-FOUR CANTOS.*

BY WILLIAM WASTLE, ESQUIRE,
Member of the Dilettanti, Royal, and Antiquarian Societies, and of the Union and Ben
Waters's Clubs of Edinburgh ; Honorary Member of the Kunst-und-alterthumsliebers

Gesellschaft of Gottingen, and of the Phønix Terrarum of Amsterdam, &c. &c. &c.

[graphic]

“ Two birds, of that kind called Gerandi, continued Cohotorbe, once lived together upon the shores of the Indian sea. After they had long enjoyed the pleasures of conjugal affection, when it was near the season for laying eggs, said the female to the male, • It is time for me to choose a proper place wherein to produce my young ones.' To whom the male replied, . This where we now are, is, I think, a very good place.' No,' replied the female, this cannot do ; for the sea may hereafter swell beyond these bounds, and the waves carry away my eggs... That can never be,' said the male, nor dares the Angel Ruler of the Sea do me an injury; for if he should, he knows I will certainly call him to an account. You must never boast,' replied the female, of a thing which you are not able to perform. What comparison is there between you and the prince of the sea ? Take my advice ; avoid such quarrels: and, if you despise my admonitions, beware you are not ruined by your obstinacy. Remember the misfortune that befell the tortoise. "

Pilpay.

CANTO IV. 1.

IV. The traveller, if he has no portmanteau,

A graceful arch of living moving green Or saddle-bags, is apt to leave the track;

Hangs o'er that busy world-a veil of trees, Even so it was with me in my last canto,

Nor rumbling chariot-wheels profane the scene, For Pegasus had nothing on his back,

Nor creaking gigs, nor rattling Tilburies; And did not mind a farthing where he ran to. But here and there a small boat glides between,

(I borrowed him of Frere, 'tis a fine hack) Wherein a few calm cits the traveller sees, He bolted up and down-but here I am,

Whose vortices are, like Des Cartes' all Fumus, Just where I mounted—not at Amsterdam. Who argue thus, Smokamus ergo Sumus, II.

v. And yet, in weather such as this, Heaven knows, No man a Scottish city would compare

And then the houses, though of brick they be, With Amsterdam, where thro'each street thereflows,

Have a far snugger look than these of ours ; Or seems to flow, a streamlet, glassy fair,

And the Dutch maiden, of her mop most free, Shaded with elms antique in stately rows,

Is always dashing upward sparkling showers, Solemnly waving in the summer air,

That rattle on the windows pleasantly, And giving back, amidst that peopled hum,

And make the parlours cool as garden bowers. Their quiet verdure, like a speculum.

Pass where you will, by lust-huis or by shop,

You'll always find some Grizzy at her mop.
III.
Streets such as those are not like Prince's Street,

VI.
All baked and parched with sun, and dust, and Hollandsche madchen! can I pass thee so ?
glare;

Thou of all maids the model, clean and neat ; Where dirty Dandies dirty Dandies meet, Thy stockings are unspotted as the snow;

Thro' mists of sand where stalking Misses stare. Fine crimson slippers deck thy tidy feet; The streets of Amsterdam are cool and sweet, Bright is thy broidered petticoat below;

No stour torments them, no unbroken flare And bright the bracelets on thy arms that meet ; Of impudent obtrusive hot sun-beams,

And 'neath thy modest mutch, most rich and rare, Compelling one to live upon ice-creams.

The jewelled band that twists thy glossy hair.

In mentioning, on a former occasion, the number of Cantos in this Poem, the word twenty was omitted by an oversight of the printer. The reader will, we doubt not, be gratified by the correction of that mistake. Canto III. for private reasons, is suppressed till October. It is entirely episodical, as the reader will learn from the opening of Canto IV.

EDITOR.

VII.

XIII. And Lady Mary Wortley Montague,

She'll hang upon your arm at rout or ball, Although a chever woman in most things,

As if you were her chosen prop and stay : Does very wrong when she speaks ill of you, And if you peer into her eyes, you shall

And 'gainst your skin reproachful sarcasm flings, Find smiles as bright and warm as the sun's ray. Calling it pale, and dead, and dull of hue, But if, perchance, upon your knees you fall,

And cold, and clammy-white, like cod'sor ling's. And pop the honest question, by my fay I know not what a lady's taste may be,

She'll bridle up, my boy, with mighty glum air,
But Dutch cheeks oft seemed kissable to me. And look as cool on you as a cucumber.
VIII.

XIV.
They want, indeed, the radiance, rich and sunny, But to return to Holland, and the lasses

That eastern warmth in eastern regions speaks ; That make the windows of the Dutch so clear. You won't get that swart glow for love or money; Ah! Scottish hizzies ! dim your window-glasses, 'Tis not the nature of Batavian cheeks.

And dirty are yourselves, those maidens near : But it appears to me extremely funny,

Even English girls their tidiness surpasses, To think one can't kiss any thing but Greeks 'Tis no great boast to vanquish your's I fear ; And Jewesses, and dark Italian dames,

Ye are good creatures, I'd lay gold upon it, Merely because they are Lord Byron's flames. But most confounded filthy-I must own it. IX.

XV. I'm not at all a bigot in that line ;

And yet not all without thy charms thou art I'm very liberal in my admiration;

Burd Grizzy! magic even in thee there lies, I think one may find something quite divine Busked on the Sabbath morn most trim and smart, Among the female part of every nation.

Kirk-ganging gladness dancing in thine eyes, At different times I differently incline,

When, from thy rustic toilette thou dost part, (Consistency in gout's a botheration)

With scarlet hood arranged in graceful plies, I fall in love, I speak it to my sorrow,

With muslin gown, with coat of manky green, With maidens fair to-day, with dark to-morrow. With feet, with cuits, unshod, unhosed - but clean.

XVI. The reading public very fiercely blame,

X.

Pernicious beauties—doomed to captivate And with much reason too, as I opine,

The eye of Tam or Saunders, faithless swain. The introducing of one's real name

With smooth soft words he'll woo thee to thy fate, Into the pages of this Magazine.

Believe him not-his oaths, his vows, are vain: I should esteem it a most heinous shame,

True, he would come with cunning step, and late, To take such liberties in verse of mine ;

I doubt it not; thro' frost, and wind, and rain, Therefore I all particulars suppress,

Full many a mile he'd come—the lad is stout; And slump them in one mass of loveliness. But oh ! consent not that he chap thee out. XI.

XVII. Ye bonny lasses ! misinterpret not

Else, ere the circling year its round shall speed, The motives of the bard, your worshipper ; Alas! what bitter fortune may be thine ;I sink your names, but may I go to pot,

I prithee, simple damosel, take heed, If therefore be my praise the less sincere. Restrain thee, Grizzy, at my warning line : I value not the breeched tribe a groat,

Think on the doom may be thy folly's meed, But would not with one scruple interfere

Yon solemn elders, yon austere divine, Of yours for worlds.-“ Fair creatures ! to whom Think with what frowns, they'll hear thy sad conHeaven

fession; A calm and sinless life with love hath given.” Ah! think, fair maiden, think on the Kirk-Session. XII.

XVIII. Beauties of every shape, of every hue,

No touch of tender mercy melted ever In Caledon's accommodating clime

The iron hearts of that barbaric crew ; Spring radiant up; but sorely may ye riie, Yea, though thine eye be fruitful as a river,

If in their company you spend much time : With grave, stern glance, thy misery they'll view: "Tis sport to them, lads, but 'tis death to you. They'll call thee harlot, strumpet, Godless-liver,

How I could rail against them in my rhyme ! Unclean, a castaway, a tainted ewe, Their little, dimpling, fawning, winning wiles ; A Jesabel, a painted, pranked foolTheir voices falsely sweet, their cunning siniles. And end with, “ Grizzy, mount the cutty-stool.”

Chappin out, is the phrase used in many parts of Scotland to denote the slight tirl on the lozen, or tap at the window, given by the nocturnal wooer to his mistress. She instantly throws her cloak about her, and obeys this signal ; her sisters lend their assistance to conceal the manquvre, if conceal. ment appear necessary, but the custom is so common, that few, even of the severest parents, take any offence at their children for complying with it.

" Ne'er fash your thumb, gudeman, lie still,"

Quoth then the lassie's minny, “ Ye ken ye chappit out mysel

Till I was big wi' Jeanie."--OLD Soxe.

XIX.

XXV.
And mount thou must that black detested bench; But these digressions would a saint perples ;
Aye up, to all the congregation's gazing,

I'm creeping back into last canto's style.
Wrapt in thy mantle soiled, most desolate wench, Not every lass such tears such terrors vex ;

Not once from thy cold hand thy visage raising; To chap-out some of them is not worth while, While black Mess John his stubborn fist shall clench, Especially those clumsiest of their sex,

And pour his wrath like a volcano blazing, Edina's Grizzies--coarse, and stout, and vile, A fiery food of taunting, grinning glee,

A man can scarcely span about their wrist, O'er the Precentor's head--and all at thee. They don't deserve the honour to be kiss'd.

XX.

XXVI. Or if perchance, in wildness of despair,

It can't be said their raiment hangs out lures, One asking glance across the kirk you throw, They wear black worsted stockings--that's a dress No countenance of softening pity there

Which' (its sole merit) dirt from sight secures, Shall meet, O lass forlorn, that eye of woe, Impregnated with months of filthiness. The wrinkled beldames' sour and savage stare I wonder where such creatures can find wooers;

Shall meet thee like a witch's curse below ; Some through blue hogars their great ankles press; Around thee, leering lad, and sneering hizzie, Whence, like a rascal's visage in the pillory, Shall find a sport in the rebuke of Grizzy. Stares, fringed and flounced with fannel, the

redheelery. XXI. O had I Allan's pencil, or Scott's pen,

XXVII. -I mean the Great Unknown, whoe'er he be ;

'Tis well that some have gustos less refined, O Walter, though folks doubt it now and then, And can endure both hogars and red heels ;

The dark suspicion still returns to thee ; A chairman or a cadie is quite blind Say what you will, there are not many men

To such objections, no disgust he feels ; Would be so shy of owning Waverly ;

So be his wench a wholesome and a kind, But silence pleases your strange whim, no doubt He asks no more; a speedy bargain seals Well do write on, that's all I care about. Their union; the fond couple club their stock,

“ For every Jenny there is found a Jock."
XXII.
One certainly gains something by coquetting

XXVIII.
And dallying with the public curiosity ; Which brings us back again unto Mynheer
Myself extremely fond of it am getting

Braun and his Lady. I have ta'en a trot (You see what comes of studying the Nosce te Since last we parted ; I've been far and near ; Ipsum rule)-excuse two words of Latin

My fable has not moved a single jot
'Tis sweet to hear your work, when no one knows These forty stanzas it is very clear
it to

That I into a vaguish style have got ;
Be your's for certain, praised by all ye meet, My poetry much like a wild young horse is,
Nay, even to praise one's work one's self is sweet.

Or one of Mr Noel's wild Discourses ;

XXIII.

XXIX. I've found a most intense and lurking pleasure But better late than never.

As I said In visiting thy foes, 0 Ebony,–

Somewhere, I think, in canto before last,
In lounging in back-shops my hours of leisure, Braun and his company were so ill bred,

And hearing all the High Street rail at thee. As, during my discourse, to fall as fast
I'm sure 'twill tickle me beyond all measure, Asleep as if they had been all a-bed ;
On Thursday next the hurricane to see,

Whereon to the withdrawing-room 1 past,
The hurly-burly and the hurry-scurry,

To take a dish of tea with Mrs Braun, When they shall hear this league with Mr Murray. And talk o'er all the Scandal of the Town.

XXIV. 'Tis true, that all the town knows Wastle's name,

And scarce can I the same admittance hope, Nor gentle paw of Bibliopole may claim,

Waving me forwards to the inner-shop! Yet, haply now, less tartly will they blame

My fault,-for every sore is found a slop, While gently smiles each late-relenting carl, Before that magic impress-Albemarle !

XXX.
O how a matron gay and fashionable,

A giver of at-homes, a knowing Dame,
That fills her suite of rooms with well-clad rabble,

Would stare if into such a scene she came ;
Some half a score of Fraus sat round a table,

Playing at Commerce, that most dull round game;
Enormous Fraus, with ribbons at their ears,
And but one beau, the Parson Vanderschpiers.

Mr Wastle has written a very long and perplexing note upon this passage. From certain allusions in it, we have thought it expedient to send it to a certain noble Lord, a member of a certain learned Society, and when we have received his elucidations, Mr Wastle's note may appear with a running commentary.

EDITOR

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