In the first number, besides a great deal of his that is still worth reading, there were printed under his adopted signature of Tristram Merton two little poems, the nature of which may be guessed from Praed's editorial comments.

"Tristram Merton, I have a strong curiosity to know who Rosamond is.

But you will not tell me; and, after all, as far as your verses are concerned, the surname is nowise germane to the matter.

As poor Sheridan said, it is too formal to be registered in love's calendar." And again: "Tristram, I hope Rosamond and your Fair Girl of France will not pull caps; but I cannot forbear the temptation of introducing your Roxana and Statira to an admiring public." The verses were such as any man would willingly look back to having written at two and twenty; but their appearance occasioned real misery to Zachary Macaulay, who indeed disapproved of the whole publication from beginning to end, with the exception of an article on West Indian Slavery which his son had inserted with the most filial intention, but which, it must be allowed, was not quite in keeping with the general character of the magazine.
July 9, 1823.
My dear Father,--I have seen the two last letters which you have sent to my mother.

They have given me deep pain; but pain without remorse.