and you may ring the changes on "nunc" and "jam” till the master will have no more of them, and then ask him for a new word.

II. "If you are forced at last to use a dissyllable at the end of the verse, you can never be at a loss while you have "meum" and "tuum;" and let them take turn about to show that you know the difference between them, which is the first step in honesty.

III. If compelled to abandon your monosyllable at the end of the short verse, yet hold out for its being admitted at the end of the first half.

IV. Participles, adjectives, and adverbs should, if possible, conclude the Pentameter, as their occurrence in that place helps to distinguish your lines from those of Ovid.-Q.E.D.

"Nunquam omnibus jam dicere scribere nunc." N.B. There is a rule about always having two dactyls in the second half of the verse, but it is doubted if the rule is to be found in the grammar that Ovid learnt; and if not, 'tis a mere tradition, and as such should be rejected as unorthodox.

V. When your number is completed, as per order, next think of marking them and. As by this time you have lost the places in your Gradus, and you would lose your game of "Ships" if you were to look them out again, (besides, though you found "magnus," you might not find "magnum,") make some bold strokes par hazard, and you can hardly fail to be right in some

instances.

15

"Magnum artibus longo armis littore scriptum."

VI. Display the same intrepidity in distinguishing the feet. Though, according to Hint IV. of the hexameters, you might place your mark of division after

each word, yet, as a fastidious master will sometimes complain of the feet and words being always coequal, puzzle him by the occasional intersection of a word. N.B. If you intersect the syllable, so much the better; as you may then make it applicable, if questioned, to either end of it, as occasion serves.

66

Magnum | artibus longo armis | littore scriptum||.” VII. Put two strokes at the end of each verse, as it gives it a finish to the eye, and shows that you know when you ought to stop.

There is another method much to be recommended to those further advanced; but as it requires some experience, and, unless delicately executed, is apt to be found out, it is not desirable that my most juvenile friends should attempt it till they have first made themselves thorough masters of the former rules. It is as follows:

Open your Ovid; fix on some lines that you feel sure your master never heard of, and then take out a Dactyl or Spondee here and there, and put in one of your stockwords in its place. It has a wonderful effect, e. g.

"Bellice depositis clypeo paulisper et hasta, Mars ades; et nitidas casside solve comas,' becomes immediately transmographied past all recog

nition in

"Lumine depositis clypeo paulisper et omnis
Nunc amor et nitidas littore solve tuum."

Leave out the stops, and you are not so sharp a fellow
as I took you for if
you are discovered.

I had not intended to have included English versification within the compass of my remarks; but the poetical contributions of my schoolfellows which have poured in since the announcement of this publication,

lead me to suspect, that notwithstanding the ambitious pirouettes and capers they would exhibit to the public that they have never been properly drilled in the first steps of the art, or ever subjected themselves to the very necessary initiation of " the positions.'

To cure the limping feet and halting run of their verse, I therefore strongly recommend their practising an exercise like the following, which, though not particular as to sense, is at least correct in sound:

NONSENSE VERSES IN ENGLISH.

Afraid? upbraid? amiss ?—in verdant sky
No dark'ning emblems mark the distant eye ;
No widow's tear, no energetic thrall—
Clear conscience carols o'er the mystic hall,
And the dire vengeance of the earth-born spark
Melts into madness-deadlier than the dark!
Oh for a bullrush! If the icy pole

Enwrapt the cobweb fluttering to the soul,
If the fond heart, the goaded tongue to rest,
The milk that curdles, or the babes that blest-
Tyrant, avaunt! in holier ground for thee
Is spread the dew of pampered charity,

And heaven's best refuge when the muse is o'er
To lighten love on Albion's sea-girt shore.

N.B. When finished, read this with emphasis, to any given circle of poetical young ladies, as the finest passage of the last Prize Poem of a particular friend, unsuccessful only because it was sent in too late, and you will be voted far nearer to Byron than your nonsense Latin verses will ever bring you to Virgil.

A BIT OF ADVICE ON AN IMPORTANT SUBJECT TO MR. NICODEMUS VERDANT, A GENTLEMAN LATELY RETURNED FROM FOREIGN PARTS.

You have left the Quadroons* and Mulattoes,

You are living a civilized life,

And, amongst other troublesome matters,
You are thinking of taking a wife;
So, while we're on this of all topics,
Since women will try to ensnare,
And since you are fresh from the Tropics,
I'll tell you of whom to beware.

If, blest with a "managing" mother,
Her attractions she's taught to display,
With a ""
charming young man" for her brother,
Living, no one knows how, on his pay,-
If, just freed from nursery rule,

The blush and the giggle† are there,—
If she's fresh from a "finishing school,”-
My dear Nicodemus, beware!

If she's ever read Malthus or Smith,

And is deep on the wealth of the nation,
On rent, and the poor-laws, and tithe,
And the woes of increased population,—
If of learning she prates and vertù

With all a philosopher's air,

Of such maids with the stockings of blue,
My dear Nicodemus, beware!

If she pretty confusion betrays,

While her charms she conceals with her fan,

If she timidly shrinks from the gaze

Of that "boldest of animals," man,

* For a curious and learned discussion on this and similar points of natural history herewith connected, see the Scene of the Dignity Ball in Peter Simple.

"All giggle, blush, half pertness and half pout."--Beppo.

If she hears her friend taken to pieces,

With a " Come, that's too bad, I declare," Though her mirth ev'ry moment increases,My dear Nicodemus, beware!

If

you

find that her talk 's sentimental,

Or with sense, dull and solid, abounds,If she flirts with a coat regimental, If she ever rides after the hounds,If she's one of the terribly good,

Be sure there's a fire-ship there,Of that worst of all women, a prude, My dear Nicodemus, beware!

If she asks you to write "something pretty" In that thing which an Album they name,

If she ever says anything witty,

For rudeness and wit are the same,

If she keeps a pet-dog or a parrot,

If she lingers to talk or to stare,
If her hair has the least tinge of carrot,-
My dear Nicodemus, beware!

Of the widow who knows how to rule,
By years of experience taught,
Of the sweet-temper'd spiritless fool
With soft insipidity fraught,—

Of the Miss who "cares nothing for gold,"
(Since love cannot live upon air)
Of the girl who is purchased and sold,
My dear Nicodemus, beware!

In short, of the Beauty who's poor,

Of the Fright who's as rich as a queen,

Of the maiden of wither'd threescore,

Of the maiden of bashful sixteen,—

Thou rash inexperienced man,

Of each and of all have a care,

They'll all take you in if they can,-
My dear Nicodemus, beware!