For I'm sure my dear Jenny would wish me to state The scene where my purchase first made its début P.S. Pray, Jenny, don't quarrel with me, but the laws, For were I to scribble on substance less taper, They would charge double postage, though one sheet of paper; I think the Police has commanded it thin For reading outside all the secrets within. 2nd P. S. I've just time to add, (having open'd my letter,) No. II. Miss Mary Ball to Miss Jane Jenkins. I BOUGHT my new bonnet on purpose to wear Are quickly engaged in succession, till all While lamps from the trees their effulgence are throwing, Of all that is dashing and gay :-Cuirassiers, Polish Lancers, and Guards, whisker'd up to the ears! Inundations of women, no longer in caps, But extravagant bonnets worth six or eight Naps; Behind roll the carriages-good ones are rarish, And demi-fortunes, with their wretched display Some jump out, and saunter-some gaze at the throng, Here parties of bowing Parisians stand, With badges at button-hole, hats in their hand, 66 Madame, j'ai l'honneur-Je suis charmé, ravi." "Je vous salue, Monsieur-Vous êtes toujours poli." Que vous avez bonne mine!-Vous me flattez-Pardon !" "Il y a beaucoup de monde.-Mais très-peu du haut ton." "Je suis désesperé de vous quitter; bon soir." 66 Ah, Madame, vous me crevez le cœur-au revoir." John Bull, with a shake, or a slap on the back, Cries Harry, how goes it, my hearty ?" "What, Jack! The French are all blackguards: the women take snuff. We follow'd such in, and they brought us a carte The walks were now cramm'd, and I wish'd to renew We went to the Gallery, Jenny, to see But Sir Philip O'Stridle accomplish'd the task In nine, without effort. I ventured to ask What he thought of the pictures,-"The pictures? that's prime! "Who'll be staring at signs when he's posting 'gainst time? Here's an answer at once, if a foreigner starts An Idea that we're not getting on in the Arts. Our countrymen flock, though they seldom have got any Taste for Museums, or lectures, or botany, To the Jardin des Plantes-not for rational feasts, The old one-eyed Bear I shall never forget, Who some time ago, being rather sharp-set," Whose taste was the worst-whose the frightfullest wish- But a truce to the Gardens, and bear with the swivel-eye, For Pa has just enter'd to take me to Tivoli. "Pauline! my new bonnet!" Well, nobody knows Pa calls me-" I'm coming"-so Jenny, you see M. B. ON ASSES. My Oberon, what visions have I seen- SHAKSPEARE. Procul este profani! Avant ye witlings, who with gibes and jeers would turn my honest conceptions into mockery. I address not ye; no, nor the poor human butts on whom ye break your poorer jests, "though by your smiling ye seem to think so." I had no such stuff in my thoughts as bipeds, not even those who wear the head of ВOттOм; but as the times are critical, and equivocation might undo us, it may be well also to premise that though my references be altogether quadrupedal, they mount not to those golden Asses (not of Apuleius, I dare aver,) which are placed upon royal tables, and whose panniers laden with salt (assuredly not Attic) minister stimulants to the palates of kings and courtiers. No-my paper means what it professes: it is dedicated to donkeys, Jerusalem poneys, &c., but who have no patronymic right to be termed any thing but Asses. Every association connected with this most interesting animal is classical, venerable, hallowed. At the feast of the goddess Vesta, who was preserved by the braying of an Ass from the attacks of the Lampsacan god, that animal was solemnly crowned; and in an old Calendar still extant the following note is written |