soars over the garden of anticipated sweets, looks back with disgust at the caterpillar existence, from which it has just emerged.

To such a voyager as this, there is scarcely a line of his past reading that does not furnish an additional inducement for departure;-his imagination is travelling before him to regions where every step is to gratify some classic recollection, or to furnish some enticing novelty his sisters' tears cease to flow, in the anticipation of the charming letters they are to receive from the land of Petrarch and Laura ;-the mother's sigh is extinguished in the hopes of that improvement both inside and outside, which, time out of mind, has been attributed to the influence of a run over the continent,-while the father squeezes his son's hand, with the energy of paternal feeling compressed within the dignity of manly decorum; and takes his first long leave of the child, whose mind has been his constant care from its first dawn to its now approaching maturity, in the hope that the projected tour is to give the finish to that education he has superintended with so much anxiety, and that at his return he may commence with respectability, and pursue with honour, the course of life which parental care has chalked out for him. This is the traveller, who mingles the smile of anticipated novelty with his farewell tears; and mounts his imperial-crowned travelling carriage, built by Adams, Houlditch, or Godsal, followed by his Swiss valet "à toutes langues," nor gives a thought to his mother and sisters, till the qualm of sea-sickness, and its tremendous attendant head-ach, bring to his recollection the kind hand that administered the cup of health, or pressed with tenderness his throbbing temples, when he

was the victim of any temporary illness at home.HOME! What a thousand associations are connected with that one little word! Even to an old bachelor, like myself, it has its delights; and as I threw my eyes round upon the pictures which I daily contemplated-upon the books which I daily read-upon the lamp which has lighted up my midnight vigils-nay, even upon the very poker with which I have so often stirred up the cheerful blaze, by which I love to ponder on the bright colours of my hearth-rug, or form ideal faces and figures in the ignited coal, it required all my energy to muster up sufficient resolution to change them for the rumbling of mail-coaches-the horn of the guard-the uncertainty of inns-the incivility of waiters-and the danger of damp sheets. Should any lady ridicule the idea, and be sceptical of the comforts of a bachelor's home, I would recommend her to pay a visit to many of our law students in Lincoln's Inn and the Temple, or to some of our young men of fashion in the Albany -where they will find the lazy leg of listlessness, and the reclined form of the studious, stretched on as soft a sofa as ever graced a drawing-room in Grosvenorsquare; or thrown into what the French philosopher calls the attitude delicieuse," in one of those easychairs, which the genius of a Tatham, an Oakley, a Gillow, or a Graham, may have pillowed into softness, and the taste of a Thomas Hope have moulded into elegance. Let your sceptical ladies view these comforts of our solitary homes, undisturbed by any lectures, save those we seek at our own pleasure from our book-shelves, and they will own the truth of the Italian proverb, that, even without a mate,

Ad ogni uccello-suo nido è bello.

Possessed of one of these easy-chairs, and with no thirst of honour to carry me to the martial field-with no hope of gain to lure me away from home—and at an age when the blood no longer burns for novelty, and when imagination is dead, it is not surprising that I should be one of those who lingered unresolved as to the day of my departure-and who resolved and re-resolved before I had accumulated sufficient energy to execute my resolution. One who is comfortably housed, and who is used to the nightly indulgence of his frame,

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By soft recumbency of outstretch'd limb,

on beds of down, high mounted on a paillasse of straw, will be long before he fixes the day of his departure, and seek a thousand excuses to defer it when it arrives. Nay, I have even known a man purposely linger over his last stirrup-cup," and dwell upon his lady's lip with "farewell kiss," until he was too late for the mail; and then sit down and hug himself, amidst the comforts of another night, with the idea that it was no fault of his own that he had not departed. As to a lover, many is the place in a mail that has been lost through the influence of a female-many the comfortable "turn inside," which has been enjoyed by an outside passenger, and many the extra shilling spent in gin and ale by coachmen and guards, from the place which has been lost by the lingering farewell of a lover, which gave the one the opportunity of offering the civility, and the others of enjoying it.

The day, however, must be fixed-and the hour of departure must arrive. And it was fixed-and did arrive. My place in the Holyhead mail had been booked and secured three days. La Fleur had his direction as to the quantum of clean shirts, Prince's Mixture, and No. 37, together with the other comforts of cleanliness, VOL. III. PART I.

K

which were to fill my patent portmanteau ;-for skirts have so much diminished since the days of Sterne, that a modern coat-pocket will scarcely carry a cambric handkerchief without forming an unnatural protuberance-much less suffice for the depositary of "half a dozen shirts and a pair of black satin breeches"—as it did in the days of that sentimental and entertaining traveller, who could distil a tear of pity from the smile of merriment, and extract a smile from the tear-drop of benevolence.

On the morning of my departure, every thing denoted the bustle of preparation-my laundress had papered up my curtains-and covered the bright knots of my doors and window-shutters. The carpet was untacked, ready to be rolled up, until it should again welcome the feet of its master. My drawers and wardrobe were emptied of their contents, and my portmanteau gaped wide to receive them. At length, all was ready-all the little miseries of packing-even to the difficulty of locking a full portmanteau-were over. And here let me solemnly conjure all makers of portmanteaux and travelling trunks, to use more care in the formation and fixing the locks than they commonly do ; since they know not how many oaths and how many sins, arising from the loss of temper of both masters and servants, will be packed up and laid at the trunk-maker's door, from having been entirely occasioned by the difficulties of locking a travelling trunk.

The hackney coach which was to convey me to the inn was announced, and I cast my last glance at my quiet books, in which I have travelled half over the world without quitting my fire-side-while my old laundress dropt me her last curtsey, with a mixture of feeling, in which regret at parting from her master struggled with

the joy she anticipated in a sinecure for some months: for even laundresses have mixed feelings. My portmanteau occupied one seat and I the other, and I relieved the first moments of my departure in preventing it, by my cane, from tumbling on my toes, from the jolting of the crazy vehicle, and from my jumping up to catch a glimpse of the clock through the gas-lighted shopwindows as I passed, to ascertain whether we should not be too late for the mail. By the time of our arrival in Lad-lane, I felt myself quite a traveller; and found in this, as well as in graver matters, that " ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute."

In the yard of the Swan-with-Two-Necks, from which travellers and parcels may be conveyed to any and every part of the world, all was bustle and orderly confusion. There stand coaches closely ranged, destined in the short space of another quarter of an hour to traverse the whole of the kingdom in different directions. The trampling of the horses was mingled with the cries of porters and ostlers-portmanteaux, trunks, band-boxes, and box-coats were moving in all directions-Trunk for the Liverpool!-Outside for the Norwich! These here ladies and them there band-boxes for the Holyhead! Who's for the Glasgow? Where's the Manchester? I'm for Birmingham? were the Babel noises that burst at once upon the ear.-In the coffee-room all was likewise hurry, but of a quieter description.-Some were buttoning on their overalls and great-coats-others straining anxiously over papers as though the last item of the business which had brought them to London, or was taking them out of it, remained yet to be finishedwhile two or three were swallowing scalding brandy and water, or hot tea, with a haste that proved their dread of a summons that might come too speedily for