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have been upon him. Let others cat his honey that please, so that he has had his morsel and his song. A book-stall is better for an author than a regular shop ; for the books are cheaper, the choice often better and more ancient ; and he may look at them, and move on, without the horrors of not buying anything ; unless, indeed, the inaster or mistress stands looking at him from the door ; which is a vile practice. It is necessary, we suppose, to guard against pilferers ; but then ought not a stallkeeper, of any perception, to know one of us real magnanimous spoilers of our gloves from a sordid thief ? A tavern and coffeehouse is a pleasant sight, from its sociality ; not to mention the illustrious club memories of the times of Shakspeare and the Tatlers. The rural transparencies, however, which they have in their windows, with all our liking of the subject, would perhaps be better in any others; for tavern sociality is a townthing, and should be content with town ideas. A landscape in the window makes us long to change it at once for a rural inn; to have a rosy-faced damsel attending us, instead of a sharp and serious waiter ; and to catch, in the intervals of chat, the sound of a rookery instead of cookery. We confess that the commonest public-house in town is not such an eye-sore to us as it is with some. It may not be very genteel, but neither is everything that is rich. There may be a little too much drinking and roaring going on in the middle of the week ; but what, in the meantime, are pride, and avarice, and all the unsocial vices, about? Before we object to public-houses, and, above all, to their Saturday evening recreations, we must alter the systems that make them a necessary comfort to the poor and laborious. Till then, in spite of the vulgar part of the polite, we shall have an esteem for the Devil and the Bag o’ Nails ; and like to hear, as we go along on Saturday night, the applauding knocks on the table that follow the song of “ Lovely Nan," or Brave Captain Death,” or “ Tobacco is an Indian Weed,” or “Why, Soldiers, why ?" or“ Says Plato, why should man be vain ?" or that judicious and unanswerable ditty commencing

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« Now what can man more desire

Nor sitting by a sea-coal fire ;
And on his knees," &c.

We will even refuse to hear anything against a gin-shop, till the various systems of the moralists and economists are discussed, and the virtuous leave off seduction and old port. In the meantime, we give up to anybody's dislike the butcher's and fishmonger's, with their blood-dropping sheep and their crimped cod. And yet, see how things go by comparison. We remember, in our boyhood, when a lady from the West Indies, of a very delicate and high-bred nature, could find nothing about our streets that more excited her admiration than the butchers' shops. She had no notion, from what she had seen in her own country, that so ugly a business could be carried on with so much neatness, and become actually passable. An open potato-shop is a dull, bleak-looking place, except in the height of summer. A cheesemongers is then at its height of annoyance, unless you see a paviour or bricklayer coming out with his three-penn'orth on his bread,-a better sight than the glutton's waddling away from the fishmonger's. A poulterer's is a dead-bodied business, with its birds and their lax necks. We dislike to see a bird anywhere but in the open air, alive, and quick. Of all creatures, restraint and death become its winged vivacity the least. For the same reason we hate aviaries. Dog-shops are tolerable. A cook-shop does not mingle the agreeable with the useful. We hate its panes with “ham and beef” scratched upon them in white letters. An ivory-turner's is pleasant, with its red and white chessmen, and little big-headed Indians on elephants. So is a toy-shop, with its endless delights for children. A coachmaker's is not disagreeable if you can see the painting and panels. An umbrella-shop only reminds one of a rainy day, unless it is a shop for sticks also, which, as we have already shown, are meritorious articles. The curiosity-shop is sometimes very amusing, with its mandarins, stuffed birds, odd old carved faces, and a variety of things as indescribable as bits of dreams. The greengrocer carries his recommendation in his epithet. The hair-dressers are also in. teresting, as far as their hair goes, but not as their heads ; always bearing in mind that we mean the heads in their windows. One of the shops we like least is an angling repository, with its rod for a sign, and a fish dancing in the agonies of death at the end of it. We really cannot see what equanimity there is in jerking a lacerated carp out of water by the jaws, merely because it has not the power of making a noise ; for we presume that the most philosophic of anglers would hardly delight in catching shrieking fish. An optician's is not very amusing, unless it has those reflecting glasses in which you see your face run off on each side into attenuated width, or upwards and downwards in the same manner in dreary longitude. A saddler's is good, because it reminds one of horses. A Christian sword-maker's or gun-maker's is edifying. A glass-shop is a beautiful spectacle. It reminds one of the splendours of a fairy palace. We like a blacksmith's for the sturdy looks and thumpings of the men, the swarthy colour, the fiery sparkles, and the thunder-breathing throat of the furnace. Of other houses of traffic, not common in the streets, there is something striking to us in the large well-conditioned horses of the brewers, and the rich smoke rolling from out their chimneys. We also greatly admire a wharf, with its boats, barrels, and packages, and the fresh air from the water; not to mention the smell of pitch. It carries us at once a hundred miles over the water. For similar reasons, the crabbedest old lane has its merits in our eyes, if there is a sail-maker's in it, or a boat-builder's, and water at the end. How used old Roberts of Lambeth to gratify the aspiring modesty of our school-coats, when he welcomed us down to his wherries and captains on a holiday, and said “Blue against Black at any time," meaning the Westminster boys! And the colleges will ratify his praise, taking into consideration the difference of the numbers that go there from either cloisters. But of all shops in the streets, a print-seller's pleases us most.

We would rather pay a shilling to Mr Colnaghi of Cockspur Street, or Mr Molteno of Pall Mall, to look at his windows on one of their best-furnished days, than we would for many an exhibition. We can see fine engravings there, -translations from Raphael and Titian, which are newer than hundreds of originals. We do not despise a pastry-cook's, though we would rather not eat tarts and puffs before the half-averted face of the prettiest of accountants ; especially with a beggar watching and praying all the while at the door. We need not expatiate on the beauties of a florist's, where you see unwithering leaves, and roses made immortal. We think they would do their trade more good if they hung their windows with a greater number of flowers, ticketing some of them with their names and prices, and announcing crowns and wreaths for hanging up in rooms as well as wearing on the head. A dress warehouse is sometimes really worth stopping at, for its flowered draperies and richlycoloured shawls. But one's pleasure is apt to be disturbed (ye powers of gallantry! bear witness to the unwilling pen that writes it) by the fair faces that come forth, and the half-polite, half-execrating expression of the tradesman that bows them out; - for here takes place the chief enjoyment of the mystery yclept “shopping ;"and here, while some ladies give the smallest trouble unwillingly, others have an infinity of things turned over, for the mere satisfaction of wasting their own time and the shopman's. We have read of a choice of a wife by cheese. It is difficult to speak of preference in such matters, and all such single modes of trial must be something equivocal : but we must say, that, of all modes of the kind, we should desire no better way of seeing what ladies we admired most and whom least, than by witnessing this trial of them at a linen-draper's counter. It is on such occasions, we presume, that snuff-takers delight to solace themselves with a pinch of Thirty-seven ; and we accordingly do so in imagination at our friend Gliddon's in Tavistock Street, who is a higher kind of Lilly to the Indicator,—our papers lying among the piquant snuffs, as those of our illustrious predecessor, the Tatler, did among Mr Lilly's perfumes at the corner of Beaufort Buildings. Since the peace with France, the shops of our tobacconists have become as amusing as print-shops; though not always, it must be confessed, in a style of delicacy becoming their enamoured boxes. At our friend's in Tavistock Street everything is managed in a way equally delicate and cordial ; and wh the leisurely man of taste buys his "Paris" or his Indicator, the busier one may learn how to set up his gaslight in good classical style, and both see how completely even a woman, of true feelings, can retain the easiest and pleasantest good-breeding in the midst of observant eyes and a humble occupation.


In the general glance we took in our last paper at shops, we found ourselves unwillingly compelled to pass some of them too quickly. It is the object, therefore, of the present article to enter into those more attractive thresholds, and look a little about us. We imagine a fine day; time, about noon ; scene, any good brilliant street. The ladies are abroad in white and green; the beaux lounging, conscious of their waists and neckcloths; the busy pushing onward, conscious of their bills.

To begin then, where our shopping experience began, with the toy-shop.

Visions of glory, spare our aching sight!

Ye just-breech'd ages, crowd not on our soul!”. We still seem to have a lively sense of the smell of that gorgeous red paint which was on the handle of our first wooden sword ! The pewter guard also,-how beautifully fretted and like silver did it look! How did we hang it round our shoulder by the proud belt of an old ribbon ; then feel it well suspended; then draw it out of the sheath, eager to cut down four savage men for ill-using ditto of damsels ! An old muff made an excellent

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