(In continuation.) On entering the saloon I found a very elegant company of both sexes assembled. On my entrance (for I was the last), lady Walsingham led the way to the temple in the garden; in which this amiable woman had paid Walsingham every possible honour in the decorations. outside of the building was one enThe tire blaze of light. On ascending the steps under the portico, A W. in variegated lamps, and the arms of the family surrounded with laurel, had a brilliant effect. Within the doors the scene which presented was enchanting-it seemed the work of magic, and I actually rubbed my eyes to know if I was really awake. The building is an octagon; an arras of white satin covers the walls, on which subjects that do honour to music are painted by lady Walsingham from the heathen mythology, A light gallery runs round the top; which on this occasion was formed into an arcade, with green-house plants, and artificial flowers; under which were placed refreshments (for we had no regular supper). In each angle stood a beautiful china vase filled with aromatic waters, which diffused a fragrant perfume. The roof terminated in a dome; the ceiling represented an open and serene sky, with angels in the attitude of listening to the sounds which might arise from below. And, surely, the strains that were heard this night there might have drawn listening angels from their happy abode. Here is a very fine-toned organ, to which Walsingham did justice. Miss Lester took the harp, on which she performed in a masterly style. Julia struck the lute, lady Walsingham the piano forte, lord Seymore the flute, your humble servant strummed the base viol. The other gentlemen took violins, except Champly, who with great fury blew the bassoon. selected a beautiful song of Pleyel's. Hush every breeze, let nothing move; The compliment pleased me; it hour. The concert concluded with 1 pass, but is a passionate admirer of music, particularly of lady Walsingham's performances. We could not preval on the pensive Julia to warble once.-What can ail the girl, Lexton? Only she has become so cursed proud, or I should think she was in love; but I am persuaded she regards herself 100 much to fret her bloom away for another, All I can say, is, there is a wonderful alteration in her; and an alteration by no means for the better. So, so, what the deuce is 'Tis true,' said I, 'I have been travelling among the planetary worlds; but since the goddess of beauty condescends to bring a cherub to my earthly dwelling, I am content to abide in it; for where shall I meet a brighter constellation than this before me, a Venus and a Cupid?' The compliment was gross; but the lady smiled. Upon my soul, Lexton, I have often thought that a vain woman and a drunken man are very much alike; the one swal lows liquor, however bad; the other flattery, however fulsome. Come,' cried my visitor, find your hat; Mrs. Howard wants me to walk with her to the village, but I positively shan't stir without a protector.' I did as the lady commanded; found my hat, and sallied forth to the hamlet; for though I saw Mrs. Howard was not pleased with my attendance, she did not forbid it. I therefore accompanied them on the visit of charity, for such it was on Mrs. Howard's part, who seemed well known. Indeed, in my eyes, she appeared a second laly Bountiful, while she dispensed happiness to her old pensioners, comfort to the sick, and advice to the young. Nor was this all; for at every house at which we stopped she left a token of the generosity of her spirit; and in return was loaded with the blessings of the grateful creature. But what was miss Lester's employment? Why, pulling about every thing within her reach. Look here, Baderly, what shocking ugly chairs.What a bore of a table. Bless me, what queer dishes! All the time the poor women were blushing and curtseying. I was ashamed of her behaviour, actually; for though no saint myself, yet, when I discover that noble spirit of philanthropy which shines so bright in Mrs. Howard, and appears to so much advantage in a female, or which rather makes the sex appear to advantage, I feel my heart warm towards them, whether man, woman, or child. Mrs. Howard is a young mo nitress, but virtue in her a pears in its proper form; young, rich, and beautiful; with a heart ready to pity, and a hand to relieve every one in want of her assistance, Miss Lester complained of being weary, and vowed to come no more on such errands of charity to the village. Mrs. Howard made no re ply, but I saw she was vexed. When we returned home miss Lester, amused herself and some of the company with a ludicrous description of our walk, and the awkward reception we had. Really poor Baderly looked as if he had never been out of a cathedral till this evening; I did not think he could have looked so very sheepish.` But as for Mrs. Howard, no nun ever told her beads with so pensive an air; indeed, she acted the part of LONDON FASHIONS. loured.) a lady abbess to perfection. So soft, (With an Engraving, elegantly coso mild, so pitiful; while her village acquaintance stood with distended mouths, overpowered with the thought that so great a lady could condescend to notice such little folks. I assure you I walked out allegrobut came back quite adagio; which proves that I am one of the best creatures living, as I cannot bear to see people in trouble,' *I do not think it proves any such thing,' said Mrs. Howard, reddening. "We went not to make visits of ceremony, but to chase the gloom of sorrow from the brow of the widow and the orphan; if these are fit subjects for your sarcasms, I. have done. I must say, however, if I had thought the worthy creatures would have received nothing from your visit but ridicule, I should not have requested your company. But I imagined a lady of your fortune would have been happy to dispense a little of that wealth to the less fortunate, and am sorry I was deceived.' 'Ridiculous!' exclaimed miss Lester; 'so, my dear Mrs. Howard, you would have me lay out my possessions in portions to village swains, and cottagers daughters; ha! ha! ha! And turn methodist, I suppose, and lay up my treasure in Heaven?' I shall leave you to lay out your money and wit too, as you think proper,' said Mrs. Howard, rising, and quitting the room. I followed her to the steps that bed into the garden; but Seymore coming in sight, I left them to purse their walk by themselves, and came to make an end of this letter. Thine, as usual, To be continued..) 1. A DRESS of pale pink musin or crape, over a white sarsnet slip; the sleeves of the slip laid in small plaits, and trimmed with lace: and the sleeves of the dress fastened with silver and pearl ornaments. Head-dress, a bandeau of white crape, ornamented with a gold tiara set with rubies. Necklace and armlets to correspond. shoes. White gloves and 2. A plain muslin dress, Vandyked round the botton; a short Spanish cloak of lilac satin, made to fit the back, and full on the shoulders, trimmed all round with a very rich Vandyked lace; bopnet of the same, crown intermixed with lace and trimmed to match. Limerick gloves and shoes. PARISIAN FASHIONS. ROBES of white Italian crape over a satin slip of the same colour, ornamented round the bottom with festoons, and painted shells of their natural colours, are much worn. The bosoms are plain scolloped cut very low, and made to sit close. The sleeves are waved and full, and com→ posed of alternate slips or stripes of crape and pink satin. The hair is bound in smooth bands, confined on the forehead, and ornamented behind with wreaths of wild roses.-Pearl necklaces and earrings are in great request, as are shoes of pink satin, and gloves of white kid, rucked. THE custom practised in England during the times of the Saxons and Danes, of proving the innocence of the ladies of those ages, by making them walk bare-footed through burning plough-shares, with their eyes hood-winked, seems to me to carry a sort of secret allegory along with it, and to typify the condition of the unmarried part of the fair sex; for what so analogous to the dangers of walking through burning plough-shares, as the strong tempta tions that sex are exposed to from the warm addresses of the other? Again, if the lady suspected of VOL. XXXVIIÍ.“ incontinence should (as it was ten to one but she would) touch any of the burning plough-shares, though ever so slightly, she was reputed guilty, though, perhaps, very often innocent. So with us; if a lady listens ever so little beyond the usual bounds of an allowed mutual intercourse, her reputation, like the ordeal lady's, is lost in the opinion of the world, though her virtue stands secure in her own. as The circumstance of walking barefooted is a strong confirmation of an allegorical sense; since being a little scorched by the hot-iron can never be meant an adequate punishment for the crime, and must therefore be understood figuratively, to express that there is nothing to protect them from the dangers they are exposed to but their bare natural innocence; which, for that reason, is the easier corrupted, as the foot is more liable to be scorched by being bare and defenceless than if it was protected by a covering. The eyes being hood-winked is a further confirmation of an allegorical sense; for love is always described by poets as wearing a bandage over his eyes. This, then, being the condition of the unmarried ladies, I shall endeavour to point out a path they may tread, and be secure amidst the burning plough-shares strewed in their way. The high road that leads to the happiness and misery of the sex is love. Their inexperience, added to the pleasures that enchanting route offers to their pleased senses, makes them but too often quit the rugged track for the more beaten one; which seeming, as in fact it is, to be more frequented, and being most agreeable, draws their steps insensibly from the other. The rugged track consists in keep 3 C ing within the bounds prescribed by custom, decency, and virtue. I say custom, because, though in the real road of virtue there are several primrose paths (as Laertes in Shakspeare expresses himself), which may invite the step, without leading absoJutely out of the road itself, or offering any indecent prospect to the view, yet the world expects the fair traveller should tread the direct road without turning to the right or left, for fear she should wander too far, or trip unawares. But to leave the allegory, every woman has two characters to maintain; one which she owes to herself, and one which she owes to the world: the characters of virtue and reputation. Many women have lost their reputations, and yet have preserved their virtues; for it is more difficult, by far, to preserve reputation than virtue. The one depends on the opinion of the public, who may judge from false appearances, and of course err; the other on an inward consciousness of what is right, which can never err. But as reputation, as well as virtue, is essential to every woman that would live agreeably in the world, and at peace within herself, both must be preserved. It would be an affront to the sex to offer any arguments to them to induce them to preserve their virtues. To suppose they want directions on this head would be an unpardonable presumption; yet, without meaning to offend them, I will venture to say, that I have observed some among them who have not had so much regard for reputation as the importance of it requires, and who think that nothing can be laid to their charge so long as they can satisfy themselves as to their own conduct: a way of thinking productive of all the exterior ills that attend an actual deviation from virtue. Pru How different is the behaviour of Leonora and Prudentia in this respect! Prudentia has as strong a passion for Leontius as Leonora feels for Torrismond. The same reasons forbid these coming together as keep those asunder. The only difference between their behaviour is, that Prudentia endeavours to conquer the passion she has for Leontius; whereas Leonora still feeds hers, by keeping company with Torrismond. dentia feels as great happiness in the thought of being united to Leontius as Leonora does in that of a union with Torrismond; but considering the little prospect there is of it, she forbears the dangerous intimacies which Leonora indiscreetly ventures upon. Prudentia may at length get the better of her passion by the method she takes, but Leonora never will. Both have an equal regard for virtue, but Prudentia has most for her reputation; Leonora thinks, that, while she is conscious that no one can arraign her virtue, no one ought to arraign her reputation. Prudentia thinks the best security her virtue can have is an unattacked reputation. Prudentia has not more virtue than Leonora, but does more to preserve it. Leonora thinks her reputation secure while her virtue is so, and applies all her care to preserve that. The consequence of which different behaviour is this. The world being prepossessed in favour of Prudentia, and prejudiced against Leonora, Prudentia might lose her virtue, and yet preserve her reputation; and Leonora lose her reputation, and yet be strictly virtuous. The one therefore is to be commended, the other to be pitied. J. D. Southampton, May 24, |
