THE CONTENTED LOVER. "That which is established ought always to be considered as the best." MORNING POST, Sept. 14, 18-. I ASK not if the world enfold A fairer form than thine, It is enough for me to know I ask not if there beat on earth It is enough for me to prove Already by kind Heaven so far Beyond my wishes bless'd, I would not, with presumptuous prayer, While thou art wise, and good, and fair, Nor would I, might I choose, prefer ON SIGNS. -"Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe, Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, And fill'd their sign-posts then, like Wellesley now.”—Don Juan. ONE often hears it remarked by people not in general the most ready to allow the superiority of modern taste, that a visible improvement has been effected in our streets by the removal of those various emblems which every shopkeeper thought himself entitled to display over his door, just as his fancy and judgment might direct. Now, if these worthy folks had paid more attention to beauty and regularity, perhaps the mingled rows of birds, beasts, and fishes, not to mention griffins and other non-descripts, might have had a very natural and picturesque appearance, to the manifest detriment of Exeter 'Change and Mr. Polito, who would never have been able to equal them either in variety or singularity. But an unaccountable ambition seems to have seized the otherwise sober citizens in this instance, for each tried to rival his neighbour in originality of invention and splendor of execution, without due regard to the limitation of their genius, or to the safety of the passengers, which was frequently endangered by the eccentric position of these ornaments. Thanks to Education Committees, and Messrs. Bell and Lancaster, or, prior to them, to Subscription and Sunday Schools, the learning of later times is so much increased and forwarded, that there are really not many people who go into a shop without being able to read the name of the owner of it; so that the old devices, formerly necessary for distinction's sake, soon got out of use, and are now almost totally discontinued. A curious observer may still trace many very evident relics of this notable custom. Need I exemplify the chubby little Indians, standing on rolls of the precious herb, which grace the entrance of the tobacconist's shop; the equally elegant Mandarins conspicuous in the grocer's window; or the branches of gilded sugar-loaves which nod on the outside; the glorious cocked hat, significant of the hatter's trade; the barber's pole; the pretty yellow fishes depending from their taper rods, a specimen of all that an angler requires; the three balls of the pawnbroker; and a thousand others which doubtless any old Cockney would readily point out to me, though at present they escape my memory? Any one may see that these which I have enumerated are as appropriate as possible; the pawnbroker's is the most obscure, and the explication of that is supposed to be, according to the most learned authorities, two to one against their unhappy customer. The barber's pole explains his obsolete art of bleeding, and the meaning of the rest is easily comprehended. It may be justly doubted whether the gorgeous exhibition of the King's arms is quite so applicable, which many show off in all the magnificence of painting, gilding, and heraldry, merely because they happen at some time or other to have furnished some one member of the Royal Family with a pair of gloves or a wax candle. However, all the above-mentioned devices, although they may be more exactly adapted for the purpose of illustration, certainly fall far short of the majesty and the dignity of those greater and nobler ones in former times. Nothing more clearly shows the superior taste of Mr. Smith, perfumer, (with due deference do I say it, to Messrs. Delcroix, Rigge, and others,) than that he has dared, amid the general defection of his neighbours, to retain that correct and illustrious monument of his house, the civet cat; and indeed I seriously recommend to his namesake, Mr. John Smith, of Etonian celebrity, that, to adorn the front or rather roof of his shop, elegant as it already is, he procure a faithful representation of the same odoriferous animal. More I dare say there may be who have firmly withstood the tide of general custom, whom I should be happy to mention with equal honour; but to return to my subject, the real amateur of signs must seek them in their legitimate and now almost only place, where they have lived, and still live in all their pristine glory, before houses of hospitality. Now I am not very particular whether these be represented on wood or on tin; whether they be carved or cast;-but one thing I greatly grieve and strongly protest against, namely, the substitution of a name in mere letters. What are those people to do, poor souls, who cannot put syllables together, if any such there be, who, on being recommended to take a drop at the King's Head, upon their arrival at the imagined place, find, in lieu of the Royal Portrait, a board scribbled over with unintelligible characters? What is to become of that useful, that respectable, that skilful, that much-vilified body of men, the sign-painters, if their talents are not encouraged, and their performances, undeservedly called vulgar daubs, are not exposed to public admiration? For their vindication from the common censure, I shall merely say that one of the great Italian masters first employed his brush in touching a sign; and indeed this much-despised profession must be considered as a great nursery for genius. I cannot help thinking that sign-painters have conferred considerable celebrity upon some persons, which they never would have had otherwise or at least of so long a duration. Who would ever think of the Marquis of Granby, unless his features, as well as his name, had been rescued from oblivion by the diligence and art of sign-painters? Who would have heard of Bishop Blaize, of the Golden Farmer, and many other worthies of local interest, unless their fame had been perpetuated by the same means? These unfortunate artists are so far from receiving any thanks for their manifest services, that they are even blamed for not preserving likenesses more exactly. It is generally understood to be extremely difficult for any painter to please the person whose likeness he takes. What then must be the hardship which these performers labour under, when they are obliged to give satisfaction perhaps to some thousands of eyes which may see the identical work at different times? No wonder that they should sometimes take the favourable side, and perhaps flatter a little too much. How much better it is that town's-people and villagers should believe Lord Nelson to have been a jolly, brave-looking tar, as they view him represented, than that truth should be too much studied, and that they should know his hollow weather-beaten visage, his lank hair, and unprepossessing appearance, all of which things, no doubt, would diminish their respect for him? Perhaps they would not like the Duke of Wellington quite so well, did they know his Grace's real and natural appearance. It would be easy to mention a thousand more examples of great men, such as our late revered Monarch, and many other Kings in the English history, whose looks have not suffered at all by being entrusted to the taste of a sign-painter. The humours and fancies of innkeepers in the choice of their emblems have been so different, that, passing over the human heads, the red and white lions, the black and white swans, in fact, the "alituum pecudumque genus," it would be a matter of endless labour. But it really is very much to be desired that some accurate and scientific observer would particularise the most uncommon ones, and investigate their origin and etymology; in fact, that he should compose a regular Treatise on Signs. In the course of this, he might give some very salutary instructions to landlords respecting the size and arrangement of them;-whether they are better affixed to the side of the house, or swinging upon |