dull; second, for the sake of my shilling. But my wife says I must take your word so I remain Yours till answered, PETER SKIN FLINT. London, June 8, 1827. I have the pleasure of being able to assure Mr. Skinflint, however unwelcome the news may be to him, that the first and second Numbers of the Eton Miscellany were composed solely by Etonians, and that no change will take place in our arrangements on that head, without our intimating it to our friends and the public. B. B. THE SPANISH EXILE'S SONG. Fast from Hispania's shores the gale And Cadiz distant rock and bay Were lessening in the watery way, When o'er the wide Atlantic main Arose the melancholy strain: Farewell, my home, farewell to thee, "Thou land of vanquish'd liberty. "While yet thy well-known shores I view, "Receive an exile's last adieu; "Receive the tears, that innate pride "It matters not-my race is run, 66 May perish in that glorious strife; ON LYING. «Ιδμεν ψευδέα πολλὰ λαλεῖν.” HESIOD. In this age of education, and national schools, it seems strange that no one should have established an academy for the instruction of young men in the art of lying with a good grace. While, however, I say this, I do not wish to be understood as being either an admirer or a censor of this noble art; but what I complain of is this, that although so many Munchausens are daily attempting to amuse us, they relate their marvels so clumsily, that weak indeed must the person be upon whose credulity they can impose. To travellers, and those who say they have changed horses at Timbuctoo, or supped with the king of Ava, we should allow implicit faith; for small must that man's stock of politeness be, who would deny to such the privilege of embellishing their adventures as they please. But every-day liars should at least have some tact in their stories, some small show of probability in their improbabilities, that they may not be liable to detection from the dullest auditor. Take W———,for instance, who has always a stock of wonderful adventures on hand, and who might really be a pleasant companion, if one could believe a word he says. It is the more distressing to be compelled to listen to his not extraordinary, but absolutely incredible, adventures, as, being by nature blessed with a strong arm, he might, like the true Munchausen, be ready to fight with what weapon he please the man who is bold enough to be sceptical on any point of his narrative. He will gravely tell you, “ I had an excellent dinner yesterday; turtle, venison, &c. &c. and walked home sober, after drinking four bottles of claret." Now, for ourselves, although we may be pretty sure that he dined on mutton and small beer, we should have no objection to his using the long-bow with moderation, and might possibly have extended our believing faculties as far as two bottles; but, at present, "Quod cunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi." I have another friend who usually lies in the future tense, who will talk largely of what he intends doing, will threaten to astonish the world with some new equipage, and to keep I don't know how many horses. Mark the result; three months hence you see him drive down Piccadilly in a hired gig and upon commenting upon his extraordinary propensity, are answered on all sides by "Oh, he is a good sort of fellow, but you should never believe a word he says." Upon these considerations, what, I ask, would be more conducive to the welfare of all rising Munchausens, than some few rules, which, by curbing their power of lying, might enable them to practise on our credulity with some chance of success? And if I, Bartholomew Bouverie, were at any future election to supplant Mr. Ramsbottom, and sit for his majesty's loyal borough of Windsor, the first act of my power should be to move, "That, whereas the noble art of shooting with the long-bow has, from the use of excessive and unnatural exaggeration, so far degenerated, that few of his majesty's subjects practising the same, can obtain credit, a special committee be appointed for the purpose of taking into consideration certain regulations, with a view to ordering the same, that it may no longer be an object of disgust and ridicule at all. And that whereas the most marvellous stories are usually those of gentlemen continually engaged in field-sports, any person or persons alleging that he or they have individually killed more than head of game, or have broken a neck oftener than three times in a fox-chase, be declared unworthy of credit, and be punished as the act may direct." ON NAÏVETÉ. I have always considered affectation to be little more than an ill-regulated emulation, an attempt at imitating those qualities, or manners, which appear graceful and natural in another person, by engrafting them on our own dispositions. I shall at present confine myself to the affectation of originality, or rather, what the Ladies call "naïveté." Now, what the precise meaning of this word may be, I will not pretend to say, as I am almost inclined to think that it is a quality of nature, merely created that it might be awkwardly imitated by the votaries of art. As far, however, as I do understand it, it appears to be a sort of guileless simplicity, which is naturally inherent in some people (particularly in the heroine of a novel), and is therefore frequently adopted, to captivate insidiously, much in the same way as the elegance of a studied dishabille is frequently preferred to the splendor of a full dress. However, it is but just, to hear what the naïve ladies will say. If you were to ask Laura (in the "Palace of Truth," of course), she would tell you, that it consisted in being gracefully ungraceful; in running into a room full of company like a race-horse that has just bolted; in throwing herself violently into an arm-chair, and sitting cross-legged [N. B. Laura has a very pretty foot and ankle]; in short, in every species of infantine simplicity; yet Laura has been married several years: and is it possible that this frail charm, this ephemeral halo, which is represented as gilding seventeen, can have survived this protracted |