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They pour from the church-and each fair one begs,
As she crosses the gutter and shows her legs,
To know what is next intended;

For Sunday's devoted to pleasure and shows,
And the toils of the day of rest never close
Till both day and night are ended.

One talks of Versailles-or St. Cloud—or a walk,
And a hundred sharp voices that sing, not talk,
Instantly second each mover;

Some stroll to the Bois de Boulogne; others stray
To the Thuilleries, Luxembourg, Champs Elysées,
The Garden of Plants, or the Louvre.

But the dinner-hour comes-an important event!
What pondering looks on the cartes are now bent!
And how various-how endless the fare is,
From the suburb Guinguette, to where epicures choose
Fricandeaus, fricassées, consommés, and ragouts,

At Grignion's, Beauvillier's, or Very's.

Some belles in the Thuilleries' walks now appear,
While loungers take seat round about them-to sneer,
To chat-read the papers, or slumber.

In disposing the chairs there are different whims,
But one for the body, and two for the limbs,
Are reckon❜d a moderate number.

The Boulevards next are the grand rendezvous,
Where parties on parties amusement pursue,
A stream of perpetual friskers,

From the pretty Bourgeoise and the trowser'd Commis,
The modern Grisette, and the ancient Marquis,
To the Marshal of France in whiskers,

Crowds sit under trees in defiance of damps;
Th' Italian Boulevard, with its pendulous lamps,

By far is the smartest of any

With bare elbows, slim waists, and fine bonnets dress'd out, Each Parisian beauty may there have a rout

For the price of the chair-a penny.

English women are known by their dresses of white;
The men by superior neatness and height,

They talk of gigs, horses, and ponies;

All look twice as grave as the French-yet their laugh,
When they choose to indulge it, is louder by half,
And they turn in, of course, at Tortoni's.

The theatres open, some thirty or more

All are fill'd, yet the crowd seems as thick as before,
Regardless of mud, or of weather;

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You'd swear it were carnival-time-and in sooth
The town is a fair-every house is a booth
And the people all crazy together.

What braying of gongs-what confusion of tongues!
What a compound of noise from drums, trumpets, and lungs!

• Bills of fare.

Each striving his neighbour's to smother;
Mimes, mountebanks, conjurers, each have their rings,
While monkeys and dancing-dogs-roundabouts-swings--
Are so thick, they encroach on each other.

Here's a dwarf, and a monster, both beautiful sights!
And there is the man without fingers, that writes
With his chest, and his grinders after,

Both done so well, you can't say which is worst;-
There Judy and Punch with a cat is rehearsed,
Which would move a hermit to laughter.

Every mansion as full as the street appears;
By the mirrors up stairs, and the chandeliers,
You may see quadrilling bodies;
Below some smoke in the Estaminets,
While others take ice, Roman punch, and sorbets,
Or chat to the Bar-maid Goddess.

In all, gaming claims indiscriminate love:
The dice-box and billiard-ball rattle above,
If you pass by a palace or stable.
Below, at the corner of every street,
Parties of shoe-blacks at cards you may meet,
The blacking-box serving as table.

The Palais Royal is a separate fair,

With its pickpockets, gamblers, and nymphs debonnaire,
Of character somewhat uncertain:

But as it is late, and these scenes, I suspect,
Won't bear a detail too minute and direct,
For the present we drop the curtain.

H.

STANZAS

On hearing that the late Lady W-r's artificial flowers remained in her hair to the last; the severity of her illness precluding change of dress.

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HEROINES are generally no great favourites with the sex whose deeds they emulate; men are not fond of female competitors either in bodily or mental strength, and she who reads Latin or leaps a five-barred gate is warned off by lordly man as an unlicensed and unqualified poacher upon his manors. Wo to the Amazon and the blue-stocking! each is too likely to incur the same dreadful denunciation which Cardinal Mazarin launched against Mademoiselle de Montpensier when she mounted the ramparts of the Bastille; of each it may most probably be said: "elle a tué son mari." For my own part, I differ on these subjects from the generality of mankind: if ever I marry, it shall be a woman who can break a horse or has been up in a balloon; and all my daughters shall hunt and learn mathematics in order to strengthen their nerves. Feminine tremors and palpitations may sound interesting enough to the uninitiated, but alas! they convey no pleasing ideas to him who has a mother, four sisters, three aunts, and six cousins, all the most preposterous and clamorous cowards in existence. God bless them all! I love them sincerely, perceive and appreciate their numerous good qualities, would do any thing on earth to serve and oblige them; but I wish they would not ask me to walk with them about London. Country rambles are bad enough, we are sure to meet mad bulls disguised like milch-cows, or ruffians in carters' frocks, to hear a hornet's hum in every breeze, and see adders coiled in every hedge; but London expeditions are a thousand times worse. Unfortunately, my mother and aunts are so complimentary as to prefer my arm to any other support; and, when lovers and danglers are not at command, the younger ladies frequently request my escort. I find myself unequal to refusal or demur; but, after one of these bewildering excursions, I return home very kindly disposed towards the heroines of history and romance, and often indulge myself in fond imaginations as to the quiet comfortable walks I should have with a Marfisa on one arm, and a Britomart on the other. No startings and screamings, no dashing half distracted into a shop at the glimpse of a distant ox, no scampering full speed over a crossing because a hackney-coach is at thirty yards distance. I feel assured that the Senora Padilla would have made no objection to walking past the two cavaliers at the horse-guards, nor would Aldrude, Countess of Bertinora, have crossed the road to avoid a Newfoundland dog. Perhaps to some persons there may be nothing very alluring in the idea of a lady, who, like Camilla, "medias inter cædes exultat," or like the tiger-nursed Clorinda :

"Chi veste l'armi, e se d' uscirne agogna,
Vassene, e non la tien tema o vergogna"-

but I confess I should very much prefer them to Erminia, "timida e smarrita," of whom I have, unfortunately, too many specimens in my own family.

Why should not English ladies be embodied into regiments like the King of Dahomey's three thousand wives, taught to stand fire, and cured of all nervous affections for life by the sight of a field of battle? But, if this were objected to, surely female seminaries might be established for the express purpose of teaching courage, where the pupils should be arranged in classes, and urged to emulation by example and reward. No uncommon bravery, no masculine hardi. hood should be required, but all should be taught to walk quietly by a led horse, to see a mouse run across a room without screaming, and not to be afraid of cock-chaffers, or father-long-legs; and prizes should be given to those who could touch an unloaded gun without trembling, and see a spider on their gown without fainting away. They might be carefully instructed in many other useful particulars, and their writing-copies might run as follows, "Do not suppose all dogs are mad in the summer," or " Shrieking does not diminish danger," or "Avoid rousing your family when the wind moves your shutters." In two or three years great progress might be made in bravery, and there would be time enough afterwards for the acquirement of less useful accomplishments. Oh that such a system were adopted! Then, and only then, might we hope to find an Englishwoman capable of imitating the French lady celebrated by M. de la Lande, who scrambled up the inclined ladder at the top of St. Peter's, mounted the ball, and leaned upon the cross, 66 avec une souplesse et une grace inconcevable." I confess myself a little sceptical as to the extraordinary grace of such an action; but I should admire it as the symptom of a stout heart, as a tacit renunciation of the nervous tremors, "thrilling shrieks and shrieking cries," for which the generality of the sex are distinguished,-as an earnest of peaceful walks, days without hypothetical horrors, and nights undisturbed by imaginary housebreakers.

Any one would suppose that my mother had detected me in a plot for her destruction, and that whenever I walked out with her she expected me to take the first favourable opportunity of getting her run over. She believes none of my assurances, listens to none of my arguments, and looks seriously provoked if I venture to tell her that she is in no danger. I must be blind if I do not perceive that every gig horse is "skittish," and I am accused of obstinacy if I refuse to bear testimony to her numerous "hair-breadth escapes." Then there are such long refuges in shops while a line of drays is passing, such wearying pauses, such turning of the head from side to side, such wild, calculating glances up and down the street, so many faint attempts and precipitate returns ere the desperate resolution is taken to dash over a crossing. I am foolish enough to feel half-ashamed of myself when I see the suppressed sneer or broad grin of the passengers, while my runaway companion stops to regain her breath and collect her scattered spirits; and I should often persuade her to hide her disorder in a hackney-coach, were it not that my eldest sister, who is very frequently on my other arm, is so dreadfully frightened in a carriage that it would be only an exchange of terPoor Charlotte! she has made up her mind to a broken neck, and reads every accident of the kind recorded in the papers, as if it

rors.

were the counterpart of her own approaching fate. I was so little with my sisters during my boyhood, owing to our holydays seldom occurring at the same time, that I had left Westminster, and been three years at Oxford, before I became acquainted with Charlotte's peculiar fears. The discovery was most unfortunately timed. During the first vacation after I took my degree, I resolved to reward myself for past study and application by a tour through part of North Wales, and I asked my two elder sisters to be my companions. We had travelled but little, and were just at the age to enjoy such an excursion we were to see every sight in our way, climb every mountain, watch the sunrise from the top of Snowdon, fill our drawing-books with sketches; in short, we were to be quite happy, and we talked over our plans with great delight. Alas! in anticipation only were they delightful, for I never had a more miserable journey in my life. We set out in high glee, the weather was beautiful, our health was good, but before two days were over, I envied every one I had left behind me. Charlotte's fears showed themselves in a very short time: at the least jolt she turned pale; if a wagon passed, she expected it to take off one of our wheels; at every corner she put down all the glasses; when we were going up a hill, she assured us we were jibbing; when we went down, she clasped her hands, closed her eyes, and seemed screwing up her courage to the necessity of being dashed to pieces. Then she was always giving directions to the post-boy: now he drove too fast, now she was certain the traces were broken; sometimes a wheel was about to take fire, sometimes a horse was on the point of dropping down dead. Towards evening my sister Anna's terrors commenced: after six o'clock every man who came in sight was a footpad or a highwayman; her purse was always in her hand ready to deliver on demand; with tears in her eyes she urged me to make no resistance; and once she positively fainted away because a gentleman, with a groom behind him, politely rode up to the carriage-window to inform us we had dropped a parcel. As we approached the more mountainous country, our miseries increased: we were now scarcely ever in the carriage; Charlotte insisted upon walking whenever we came to a steep or rough road, and as this frequently occurred, we suffered the fatigue of pedestrian tourists, were completely tired and spiritless when we arrived at our inn, unequal to an evening ramble, and glad to go to bed by daylight. I could not even have the satisfaction of scolding, for it would have been cruel to reproach one who was always reproaching herself, and whose eyes were constantly overflowing with tears of terror or of penitence. Most desirous not to abridge our pleasure, she always fancied herself equal to every undertaking; always assured us over-night that she was ashamed of her previous fears, and determined to be more courageous on the morrow. Thus encouraged, we set out on ponies, or on foot, to visit some romantic scenery; but half way up a mountain Charlotte's spirit fails her, the danger is too great to be encountered-it is madness, suicide, to proceed. She will stay where she is till our return, the servant shall remain with her, it will distress her extremely if we do not go on. Accordingly all is settled; but Anna and myself are speedily recalled

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