As a young Stag the thicket past,
The branches held his antlers fast;
A clown, who saw the captive hung,
Across the horns his halter flung.

Now safely hamper'd in the cord,
He bore the present to his lord.
His lord was pleased, as was the clown,
When he was tipp'd with half-a-crown.
The Stag was brought before his wife;
The tender lady begg'd his life:

"How sleek's the skin! how speck'd like ermine!
Sure never creature was so charming!"

At first within the yard confined,
He flies and hides from all mankind;
Now bolder grown, with fix'd amaze,
And distant awe, presumes to gaze;
Munches the linen on the lines,
And on a hood or apron dines,
He steals my little master's bread,
Follows the servants to be fed,
Nearer and nearer now he stands,
To feel the praise of patting hands;
Examines every fist for meat,

And, though repulsed, disdains retreat;
Attacks again with levell❜d horns,
And man, that was his terror, scorns.
Such is the country maiden's fright,
When first a redcoat is in sight;
Behind the door she hides her face,
Next time, at distance, eyes the lace.
She now can all his terrors stand,
Nor from his squeeze withdraws her hand.
She plays familiar in his arms,

And every

soldier hath his charms:

From tent to tent she spreads her flame;
For custom conquers fear and shame.1

(1) Added to the truth of the old adage illustrated here, that "familiarity breeds contempt," we may observe, that nothing is more sure to disappoint expectation, than injudicious association. Boldness and freedom united with ignorance, form the basis of vulgarity; and low acquaintances, like dirty dogs, soil those most, whom they fawn most upon.

"Nil adeo magnum, nec tam mirabile quicquam,
Principio, quod non minuant mirarier omnes
Paulatim."-LUCKET. 2.

THE MONKEY WHO HAD SEEN THE WORLD.

A. MONKEY, to reform the times,
Resolved to visit foreign climes;
For men in distant regions roam
To bring politer manners home.1
So forth he fares, all toil defies:
Misfortune serves to make us wise.2

At length the treacherous snare was laid;
Poor Pug was caught; to town convey'd;
There sold. (How envied was his doom,
Made captive in a lady's room!)
Proud, as a lover, of his chains,

He, day by day, her favour gains.

(1) Not always.

(2)

Whene'er the duty of the day
The toilet calls, with mimic play

He twirls her knots, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.

In visits, too, his parts and wit,

When jests grew dull, were sure to hit.
Proud with applause, he thought his mind
In every courtly art refined;

Like Orpheus, burnt with public zeal,
To civilize the Monkey-weal;

So watch'd occasion, broke his chain,
And sought his native woods again.
The hairy sylvans round him press,
Astonish'd at his strut and dress:
Some praise his sleeve, and others gloat
Upon his rich embroider'd coat.
His dapper perriwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powder'd back, above, below,
Like hoary frosts, or fleecy snow;
But all, with envy and desire,
His fluttering shoulder-knot admire.

"Hear and improve," he pertly cries,

66 I come to make a nation wise.

Weigh your own worth; support your place, The next in rank to human race.

In cities long I pass'd my days,

Conversed with men, and learn'd their ways.
Their dress, their courtly manners see;
Reform your state, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive? in flattery deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.

Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit,
Be prompt to lie, whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to everything pretend,

And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow, like man, polite."

He spoke and bow'd. With muttering jaws,
The wondering circle grinn'd applause.
Now, warm'd with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And, fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,

With travel finishes the fool;

Studious of every coxcomb's airs,

He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears;
O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts,

For vice is fitted to his parts.1

(1) Wisdom is the result of observation and thought,-the one acquires, the other digests, the mental food. Hence the advantages of foreign travel can be only assured to a disposition possessing both these qualities, nor would Telemachus have turned out better than an accomplished rake, except the natural pliability of youth-"Cereus vel in vitium vel in virtutem flecti"had been properly directed by Mentor. Otherwise association with adepts in the vices which "flesh is heir to," and the endeavour to show the same freedom in act, which the custom of other countries may sanction, break down the bulwarks of the character, unsupported as the latter often is in youth, by moral courage to refuse, and the evil example spreads:

:

"Dedit hanc contagio labem,

Et dabit in plures."

The advice of Polonius to Laertes in Shakspear's Hamlet, Act i. sc. 3, ought to be "charactered" in every young traveller's memory.