own non-importance to his equals. Nothing but the most ample experience can satisfy self-love how thoroughly, in good society, "no one is of consequence to any one." Yet without this knowledge, how can we suppress those little movements of vanity and affectation which are the unquestionable impediments to ease of deportment. The man of the world enters a room as he would enter the market-place, impressed only with the desire to put himself in his proper position. As his volition is simple, so his action is decided. The novice, on the contrary, is anxious to far effetto, and is immersed in a sea of affectations. Unasssured, doubtful, and hesitating, every movement becomes false to the intention; and it is ever the vainest and most conceited who breaks down the most thoroughly. But it is of verbal miscarriages that we are speaking, and the application will be found in the difficulty of adjusting your reply to the customary inquiries of the host. It is really a very nice point to determine whether the "how d'ye do" should be answered at all. The general rule unquestionably is, that no one in asking the question either cares for the answer, or so much as listens to it. It is only by a scarcely appreciable variety in the intonation, that tact discovers when more is meant than an unmeaning civility. dwell, therefore, mal-à-propos, on the "very well, I thank you," and still worse, to enter upon a kyriel of details of ill health, is eminently roturier. A passing reference to the prevailing cholera or grippe, when those diseases happen to be fashionable, may be correct; but to mistake your host for your apothecary is quite unpardonable.

To

So, on the other hand, there is tact requisite in your own inquiries to be reciprocated. In general, health is to be presumed of those you see in the daily discharge of social duties; but ladies and superiors require something more formal than the slight nod and "how do?" which passes among familiars and equals. A man that would be gallant with a lady, need not ask her after her husband's health, nor even be very solicitous about the daughter's measles. But to hit the exact shade where respect ends, and tiresomeness begins, in the more ordinary intercourse, requires more than any verbal rule which we can offer. It is, however, decidedly mauvais ton to ask nominatim after every aunt and cousin, or to insist on extorting a distinct answer for each. Figure to yourself where this would end, if every member of a dinner of sixteen indulged in such prolixity severally with all the guests.

Once admitted into the circle of aristocracy, though it be but for an hour, there is no difficulty more embarrassing than the titular address. When or how often it should be applied, is a point of some nicety. Every body, we presume, knows that, be the party spoken to titled or untitled, he must not be addressed by his name. It does not do to exclaim across the table to "Lord A," or "Mr. B——” (with or without a preliminary "I say,-"), the better to engage his attention; but the strict adaptation of" my lord" and "your lordship" is a matter of much more nicety. Of course, reader, nothing would tempt you, if a parvenu, into the vulgar familiarity of dropping the title, or even speaking to a third person of Castlereagh or Bedford. This abomination offends not only against conventional good breeding, but implies a vile and unfounded pretension, as contemptible as it is odious. It is ever instantly rebuked by a most ceremonious accuracy in giving

the offender all his additions, if he have any, or an emphatic “ Mister” if he have none other.

But the master difficulty in these cases attends the use of "my lady," nor can any very precise rule be stated for the service of beginners. Servants, and decided inferiors, never omit it, which whether it be considered as respect, or as acknowledged vulgarity, would be equally admissible; for persons in that grade are not bound to be more than they are; and even in the code of fashion, nemo tenetur ad impossibile. In the higher ranks also, though ladyship be the politest serious address, there has been lately introduced a semijocose revival of "my lady," which in time and place has its grace. It is rarely so employed in the second person, and only as determined humour. But "how do you do, my lord: how is my lady" would not be a solecism in this 1842, unless where difference of rank was decided, or acquaintance slight. All this, however, is a world away from the ever recurring "my lady," with which the citizen addresses the sheriff-knight's wife. "Shall I send you beef, my lady," "hand my lady the cakes," and similar expressions, are of the dernière roture. For the rest, it is of little use to lay down the rule that, as the total omission of title is rude and unmannered, so the too frequent repetition of it is formal, awkward, and embarrassing. To know this is nothing, without practice has given the tact to seize upon the proper limit-the juste milieu of polite usage and to this point we come, whatever be the peculiar item of exclusive distinction we are called upon to touch. The purpose of pass-words and signs, whether it be in political conspiracies, freemasons' clubs, or the associations of the extreme bon-ton, are alike intended as barriers, not as tickets of admission,-as the instruments of exclusion, rather than as finger-posts to guide the traveller to his destination. They would, therefore, very ill accomplish the end of their institution, if the secret could easily be divined. The general result of the true code of aristocratic bearing is simplicity, a marked avoidance of every thing salient, a studied absence of the least appearance of study-in so much that the very effort at imitation is fatal to its success. In outline, the shadow very closely resembles the substance; but light is not more opposite to darkness, than the borrowed refinements of the imitator from the substantial excellence of the true gentleman. Here, therefore, the great rule of the moralist comes into play," whenever you are in doubt, abstain." The besetting sin of the vulgarian is demonstrativeness, his greatest enemy facetiousness. As many a dull dog is thought a sensible man in a mixed society, by dint of silence and gravity, so may a roturier sometimes pass for "one of ourselves" by dint of not thinking himself the observed of all observers, and by holding his tongue. In all grades of society, the greatest bore is he who will talk, whether you will or no; and who persists in introducing new subjects, by way of making the agreeable. But where there is nothing in common, the talker must either venture upon what he does not understand, or (still worse) talk of himself and his own friends, showing up in his very sentence manque d'usage, or some habitual mesquinerie, from which his interlocutor, if he knows what is meant, draws an unfavourable impression. If the object of the speaker be to show off, he affects a knowledge of the beau monde which he does not

possess; or he makes himself the hero of his own tale; describing haply his own cleverness in a bargain; how he did Tom such a one in a sale of hops, or asserted the consequence of his "house" against the insolence of such a bank director. We will suppose that he knows better than to talk of Lady Jersey's "to do," or of "a blow out" at Sir Robert Peel's; but by describing how his mother and sisters "got" to Almack's, he will as incontestably prove the utter absence of their right to be there. The opera more especially is a neutral ground extremely dangerous to vulgar loquacity. If your would-be fine gentlemen avoid mispronouncing the names of the actors, or mistake the parts they play, confounding sexes, operas, and maestros, yet will they nevertheless betray roture in too emphatic a dwelling on the omnibus and its inmates, or on their negotiation with "Sams" for the price of a stall ticket. Such men, too, know infinitely more of who is in whose box, or what lady is in waiting on the Queen than they ought to do. These are the things which are great to little men, and to nobody else. The man of real bon-ton is too closely occupied with parliament, or with the business of private society, to be an habitué of any public theatre; and when there, he thinks only of himself and his own friends, or his favourite dancer. A great breach of conventional politeness is insisting on talking politics with a great man, as a subject with which he must be familiar. Alas! the roturier little knows how tired the official is of such discussions in public debate, or how little the mere mob of members know or care about any interest, except their own. Moreover, if for once he is in luck, and he finds an auditor disposed to listen, the use of proper words in proper places fails him in the first half-dozen phrases, and he is sure to show up that he knows no more of what is really going on, than (his sole authorities) the writers of the leading articles in the newspapers.

The aspirants for a place in good society are very apt to complain of intrigue and spiteful efforts to impede their progress. But we have said enough to show that on this adventure, their worst enemies are themselves; and that "out of thine own mouth will I judge thee," contains the secret of their greatest and most frequent failures.

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE MACARONIC POETS

OF

ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND.

CHAP. II.

REFERENCES FOR FURTHER INFORMATION-WILLIAM MESTON OF ABERDEEN-DOCTOR GEDDES OF BANFF.

WHEREAS, as the lawyers say, we do not feel over assured that among the readers of the Magazine, there be not certain persons at present unknown to us, who may desire some further insight into this matter whereof we are chatting, and may wish to regale themselves with macaronisms of the early continentalists, the quiddities beginning or entirely written in words beginning with one letter, as the "Pugna Porcorum," or the "Canum cum Catis certamen;" or to study this subject critically and bibliographically, we refer them to the work of that learned German, Dr. F. W. Genthe, in whose "Geschichte der Macaronischen Poesie," published at Leipsic in 1829, they will find the entire subject discussed. If, however, they cannot read German, and will be content with the lighter labours of an English antiquary, let them purchase the "Specimens of Macaronic Poetry," reprinted from the pages of the Gentleman's Magazine in 1831, and now to be picked up in Holywell-street for the small charge of one shilling. Having now endeavoured to satisfy the dissatisfied, let us resume our task of satisfying those who are content to be taught by us.

The next writer to whose macaronisms we must introduce our friends is one William Meston, of whom little more can be affirmed than that he lived about the beginning of the eighteenth century, was a Master of Arts of the Marischal College, Aberdeen, and a poet-in the eyes of his friends and a Professor of Philosophy in his University. His contribution is the form of diploma for one William Sutherland, commonly known by the name of Bogsie. The writ of diploma proceeds from the "Doctors of the Merry Meeting," the symbol of rank was a punch-bowl crown. In the opening of the writ the power and the extent of the authority of "all good fellows" is broadly asserted. The fanciful or political divisions of countries, or continents, or quarters of the globe, are unknown to the all-pervading power of good cheer and merry-making, and the Doctors of the Merry Meeting fearlessly address their writ to all nations and all countries from John o' Groat to Padanaram, from the icy regions of the pole to the Dutch boors and Hottentot Venuses of Table Bay; vouching for the scholarship and learning of the good youth William Sutherland, and his fitness for the honourable degree of Doctor.

The book is entitled,

VIRI HUMANI, SALSI ET FACETI

GULIELMI SUTHERLAND.

MULTARUM ARTIUM ET SCIENTIARUM

DOCTORIS DOCTISSIMI,

DIPLOMA.

The following lines contain the doctor's greeting, to all whom it concerns or it may concern, or, as our college statutes have it, " omnibus quos concernit aut quos concernere possit."

Ubique gentium et terrarum

From Sutherland to Padanarum,

From those who have six months of day

Ad caput usque bonæ spei,

And further yet, si forte tendat,

Ne ignorantiam quis pretendat,
We doctors of the merry meeting
To all and sundry do send greeting.
Ut omnes habeant compertum
Per hanc presentem nostram chartam,
Gulielmum Sutherlandum Scotum,
At home per nomen Bogsi notum,

Who studied stoutly at our college,

And gave good specimens of knowledge,

In multis artibus versatum,

Nunc factum esse doctoratum.

The solemnity of the diploma admits not of a full and particular account of the ceremonies by which the young doctor was admitted. Sufficient for all good fellows to inform them, how,

Quoth Preses, strictum post examen,
Nunc esto Doctor, we said, Amen :

leaving the readers to infer, from the word examen, what a very swarm of questions," de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis," the young doctor must have answered. As persons naturally suppose that every italicised word involves something very witty, let us inform the unlearned, that examen doth mean a swarm of bees-hence, the pun. The doctors now proceed to commend the youth to all their fraternity.

So to you all hunc commendamus

Ut juvenem quem nos amamus,
Qui multas habet qualitates

To please all humours and ætates.

His many qualities are now set forth ordine longo, "chick and a chick and a train too," or one after the other, as the Finsbury volunteer corps volunteered to fire their volley all together. The catalogue of names is awful: our doctor is compared in his various qualifications to Duns Scotus, Calvin, Knox, Aquinas, Boerhaave, and Bellini; but let the Diploma speak for itself.