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Let France its whim, its sparkling wit supply,
The easy grace that captivates the eye;

But curse their waltz-their loose lascivious arts,
That smooth our manners, to corrupt our hearts!"(2)
Where now those books from which in days of yore,
Our mothers gained their literary store?
Alas! stiff-skirted Grandison gives place
To novels of a new and rakish race;
And honest Bunyan's pious dreaming lore,
To the lascivious rhapsodies of Moore.

And, last of all, behold the mimic stage Its morals lend to polish off the age, With flimsy farce, a comedy miscall'd, Garnish'd with vulgar cant, and proverbs bald, With puns most puny, and a plenteous store Of ribald jokes, to catch a gallery roar. Or see more fatal, graced with every art To charm and captivate the female heart, The false, "the gallant, gay Lothario" smiles, (3) And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles; In glowing colours paints Calista's wrongs, And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs. When Cooper lends his fascinating powers, Decks vice itself in bright alluring flowers, Pleased with his manly grace, his youthful fire, Our fair are lured the villain to admire; While humbler virtue, like a stalking-horse, Struts clumsily and croaks in honest Morse.

Ah, hapless day! when trials thus combined,
In pleasing garb assail the female mind:
When every smooth insidious snare is spread
To sap the morals and delude the head;
Not Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
To prove their faith and virtue here below,

Could more an angel's helping hand require,
To guide their steps uninjured through the fire,
Where, had but Heaven its guardian aid denied,
The holy trio in the proof had died.

If, then, their manly vigour sought supplies
From the bright stranger in celestial guise,
Alas! can we from feebler natures claim
To brave seduction's ordeal free from blame;
To pass through fire unhurt, like golden ore,
Though angel missions bless the earth no more!

Notes, by William Wizard, Esq.

(1) Waltz.-As many of the retired matrons of this city, unskilled in " gestic lore," are doubtless ignorant of the movements and figures of this modest exhibition, I will endeavour to give some account of it, in order that they may learn what odd capers their daughters sometimes cut when from under their guardian wings. On a signal being given by the music, the gentleman seizes the lady round her waist; the lady, scorning to be outdone in courtesy, very politely takes the gentleman round the neck, with one arm resting against his shoulder, to prevent encroachments. Away then they go, about, and about, and about-" About what, sir ?". About the room, madam, to be sure. The whole economy of this dance consists in turning round and round the room in a certain measured step; and it is truly astonishing that this continued revolution does not set all their heads swimming like a top; but I have been positively assured that it only occasions a gentle sensation which is marvellously agreeable. In the course of this circumnavigation, the dancers, in order to give the charm of variety, are continually changing their relative situations: now the gentleman, meaning no harm in the world, I assure you, madam, carelessly flings his arm about the lady's neck, with an air of celestial impudence; and anon, the lady, meaning as little harm as the gentleman, takes him round the waist with most ingenuous modest languishment, to the great delight of numerous spectators and amateurs, who generally form a ring, as the mob do about a pair of amazons

pulling caps, or a couple of fighting mastiffs. After continuing this divine interchange of hands, arms, et cetera, for half an hour or so, the lady begins to tire, and with " eyes upraised," in most bewitching languor petitions her partner for a little more support. This is always given without hesitation. The lady leans gently on his shoulder: their arms intwine in a thousand seducing mischievous curves-don't be alarmed, madam-closer and closer they approach each other, and, in conclusion, the parties being overcome with ecstatic fatigue, the lady seems almost sinking into the gentleman's arms, and then-" Well, sir! what then?"-Lord! madam, how should I know?

(2) My friend Pindar, and in fact, our whole junto, has been accused of an unreasonable hostility to the French nation; and I am informed by a Parisian correspondent, that our first number played the very devil in the court of St. Cloud. His Imperial Majesty got into a most outrageous passion, and being withal a waspish little gentleman, had nearly kicked his bosom friend, Talleyrand, out of the cabinet, in the paroxysms of his wrath. He insisted upon it that the nation was assailed in its most vital part-being, like Achilles, extremely sensitive to any attacks upon the heel. When my correspondent sent off his despatches, it was still in doubt what measures would be adopted; but it was strongly suspected that vehement representations would be made to our government. Willing, therefore, to save our executive from any embarrassment on the subject, and above all, from the disagreeable alternative of sending an apology by the Hornet, we do assure Mr. Jefferson, that there is nothing farther from our thoughts than the subversion of the Gallic empire, or any attack on the interest, tranquillity, or reputation of the nation at large, which we seriously declare possesses the highest rank in our estimation. Nothing less than the national welfare could have induced us to trouble ourselves with this explanation; and in the name of the junto I once more declare, that when we roast a Frenchman, we merely mean one of those inconnus, who swarmed to this country, from the kitchens and barbers' shops of Nantz, Bourdeaux, and Marseilles; played the game of leap-frog at all our balls and assemblies; set this unhappy town hopping mad; and passed themselves off on our tender-hearted damsels for unfortunate noblemen-ruined in the revolution! Such only Ican wince at the lash, and accuse us of severity; and we should be mortified in the extreme if they did not feel our well-intended castigation.

(3) Fair Penitent.-The story of this play, if told in its native language, would exhibit a scene of guilt and shame which no modest ear could listen to without shrinking with disgust; but, arrayed as it is in all the splendour of harmonious, rich, and polished verse, it steals into the heart like some gay, luxurious, smooth-faced villain, and betrays it insensibly to immorality and vice; our very sympathy is enlisted on the side of guilt; and the piety of Altamont, and the gentleness of Lavinia, are lost in the splendid debaucheries of the gallant gay Lothario," and the blustering, hollow repentance of the fair Calista, whose sorrow reminds us of that of Pope's Heloise" I mourn the lover, not lament the fault." Nothing is more easy than to banish such plays from our stage. Were our ladies, instead of crowding to see them again and again repeated, to discourage their exhibition by absence, the stage would soon be indeed the school of morality, and the number of "Fair Penitents," in all probability, diminish.

66

No. VIII.—Saturday, April, 18, 1807.

66

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT.

"In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow;
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee,
There is no living with thee-or without thee."

"NEVER, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, has there been known a more backward spring.' This is the universal remark among the almanac quidnuncs, and weather-wiseacres of the day; and I have heard it at least fifty-five times from old Mrs. Cockloft, who, poor woman, is one of those walking almanacs that foretell every snow, rain, or frost, by the shooting of corns, a pain in the bones, or an ugly stitch in the side." I do not recollect, in the whole course of my life, to have seen the month of March indulge in such untoward capers, caprices and coquetries as it has done this year: I might have forgiven these vagaries, had they not completely knocked up my friend Langstaff; whose feelings are ever at the mercy of a weathercock, whose spirits sink and rise with the mercury of a barometer, and to whom an east wind is as obnoxious as a Sicilian sirocco. He was tempted some time since, by the fineness of the weather, to dress himself with more than ordinary care, and take his morning stroll; but before he had half finished his peregrination, he was utterly discomfited, and driven home by a tremen

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