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PRINTED FOR WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, NO 17, PRINCE'S STREET,
EDINBURGH; AND BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY,
PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON;

To whom Communications (post paid) may be addressed ;

SOLD ALSO BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.

Here follow

THE NATICES,

Done into Metre by an ingenious Friend.

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X.

We can't express our hatred of this WE,
We bear the monosyllable a grudge;
Tully, we think, in his Curulian glee,

First introduc'd at Rome the pompous fudge: But now it is a standing vanity,

From which no modern editor will budge;
From Mr Jeffrey down to Mr Hone,
They all preserve the same imposing tone.

XI.

Even we, (remark the tyranny of fashion!)
Even we, tho' singular enough and single,
We can't forbear, in spite of all our passion,
The same absurdity ourselves to mingle,
With every sentiment-we cannot dash on,
Thro' one short stanza of our triple jingle;
In short we should be sadly at a loss,
Were we restricted from our stately NOS.

XII.

But let that pass-there's nothing half so wise, As going on in the old jog-trot way;

"Never no good doth come of novelties,"
Se we'll be wE until our dying day :

We wish, instead of aiming to surprise,
By dash, originality, display,

XVII.

Were vanity our foible, (which it an't)
The notice of such heroes were enough
To turn the head of the most pious saint;-
Think only of a Lord, (with gesture gruff,
Back'd by a Banker) making sore complaint
About a little monthly piece of stuff!
A whole Society of such renown
Harangued to put one Irish Ensign down.

XVIII.

Behold the Thistle of our native land
'Mid the gay garden rising like a queen!
How beautiful the airy leaves expand,

How soft the virgin coronal's purple sheen.
But stay, rash stranger, stay thy venturous hand;
Grasp not the modest garment of her green.
Our's be the emblem! Fops and fools beware,
Admire in safety, touch us if ye dare!

XIX.

After this prelude "Bion" will not stare, Though we reject his quizzical" Lament ;" We think it has a very wicked air,

To such outrageous fury to give vent ; Moreover, still the Bailies' hopes are fair, For still the Court of Session may relent.

We had from our commencement been thus sober, Besides it is a trick of good" old John's," (Hang that confounded 20th of October!)

XIII.

Then had our course of life been smoothly gliding
In moderate unenvied calm prosperity;
Worthy old women then had not been chiding
Our deafening whirls and cataracts of asperity,
Nor all the godless wits their faces hiding,
Idoloclastis ictubus perterriti,

Nor whiggery's meteor dimly forced to twinkle
Before the rising star of LAUERWINKEL.

XIV.

No acid drop had tainted then the jorum

Of them that love the Yellow and the Blue; Jeffrey had still been princeps criticorum, The undisputed oracle of gout; And plain Scots heads had boo'd more majorum, To that despotic democrat Review, That over-rated much, but smart miscellany, Which now we're boldly thrashing to a jelly nigh.

XV.

Then Hunt and Hazlitt, Haydon, Webb and Keats, Had quaffed at Hampstead currant-wine in peace, In gentle interchange of "fine conceits,"

Of" Laurel Garlands," and of mutual grease; Such, we may gather, are their Cockney treats.(Alas! that joys so heavenly e'er should cease; That envy such a paradise should visit, In the vile demon shape of crooked Z.)

XVI.

Then had Odoherty (mad bard !) not rushed
On the high corpus of F. R. S. E's;
Nor from the tongues of cits hot foam had gushed,
Against some blarney about Irish fees;
Nor philosophic Peers with fury flushed,
Poissarded Ebony's enormities.
Cimprudent mineralogist and banker,
Fa individual notice dost thou hanker ?)

Of differing from them all to make no bones.

XX.

There is no saying about things which lie
Far in the Fates' inscrutable dark womb,
Of prophecies the wise are very shy,

But, 'spite of all the SCOTSMAN's boded gloom, We see not in the Magisterial sky

Any such symptoms of a dismal doom;
Instinctive reverence still we entertain
For resolute Mackenzie's gown and chain.

XXI.

Heroic Provost !-Hast thou ever been
Present when Shakspeare's Richard 3a was played?
Remember how the Pit applauded Kean,

With hand disarmed still daring Henry's bladeSuch awe was our's, when, on that real scene, Even in the front of Boyle, most bold Kincaid! In front of Craigie, Bannatyne, and Miller, Stedfast and stern, stood firm our civic pillar. XXII.

The "Letter on Election" is too long,
Too ethically, querulously sad;
Bailies and Bailie's Wives have stomachs strong,
And punch is, at this season, far from bad;
And Candidates would do exceeding wrong

To change old fashions to please any lad
That takes't into his head he is their betters,
Who do not drink green tea, or write dull letters.

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