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MISCELLANEOUS.

A Mirror for the Petit Maitres.

A skipping, dancing, worthless tribe, you are,
Fit only for yourselves: you herd together;
And when the circling glass warms your vain hearts,
You talk of beauties that you never saw,
And fancy raptures that you never felt.

ROWE.

IN all collections of essays, I invariably find some paper addressed to the women, that is either offered as a lecture of advice or levelled at them with all the severity of satire; while the men, the lords of the creation! are suffered to grovel on in vice, or to sneak through the world as ignorant or worthless characters. Why are the eyes of these authors shut against the follies of their own sex? Why will the learned mind labour to seduce woman again to taste of the Tree of Knowledge, only to make her see the nakedness of those around her?-How many youth may blush at the wilful neglect of their understandings! blush, when they recollect the high, the sublime nature of the soul. Good Heaven! can a modern fine gentleman suppose himself in the same class of being with an Essex, or a Sydney, the ornaments of the sixteenth century? To mention the sacred names of a Newton or a Locke, would be to draw a comparison between the feeble glimmer of a glow-worm and the efful. gence of the sun.

The first emotion of the human heart is a strong desire of happiness; and, in minds of any worth, an ambition to be eminent in something, form two biasses, which emphatically work the grandeur and immortality of the soul; and, if properly directed, would raise man to the highest perfection of which his frail nature is capable. The ambition of a manly soul ought to soar to intellectual attainments-a perfect gentleman must not be ignorant on any subject. To be uninformed of the histories of Greece and Rome, setting aside that of our country, isabsolutely shameful yet two thirds of our Jeus d'Esprits would rub their vacant foreheads, if you happened to ask them any questions about either of the Gracchii, but hint in their ears, the names of Alcibiades or Phocion, and perhaps they will think you are talking of some old clothes-man! I have heard mistakes made by fashionable young men, that a school boy of ten years old would blush to be caught in. I will take the liberty of giving two or three examples. Some ladies, in company with one gentleman, were expressing their approbation of the graceful manner in which Helen leaves her loom to go to Paris after his flight from Menelaus- Ah ladies!" says he, "it is fine in Pope; but I have read it in the original Latin, and there it is beautiful!"- "In Latin, Sir," said a female friend of mine who was present: "I beg your pardon, but Homer was a Greek poet."-"No, no, madam!" he hastily replied, "you mean Horace, I assure you Homer was a Roman, for I have read him!”

One evening, I was with some other ladies, in a room with three young men. How the subject came into their heads, I know not, because I was not listening to their conversation; but my attention was arrested, by one of them saying, rather loudly-" Mark Anthony was made king of one of the Assyrian provinces"-" Perhaps so: but I am sure" replied a second "he was Cæsar's son' "You both mistake," interrupted the third " he was one of the villains who helped Brutus to kill Cæsar!" I was astonished and speechless with surprize, gazed at the three gay charming fellows!" who, in my opinion, better deserved the appellation of the blockhead triumvir

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Are these illiterate, shamelessly ignorant animals, of that noble species, Man!-that super-eminent creature, whose form was shaped to gaze on the heavens, and the

faculties of whose soul, were expanded by his Creator, that he might count the stars! And how does he now employ his time? Not even in walking the plain track of literature-not in comparing the histories of republics, kingdoms and empires; and while he reads conversing with wise lawgivers and holy patriarchs!-not in searching through the labyrinths of the human mind with Locke; nor in reading the stars, and making the vast tour of the universe, in company with the divine Newton !-No, these are not his pursuits; he reads no books, save now and then a flimsy play, that has nothing but its novelty to recommend it-and perhaps the history of some popular divorce. Besides the theatre, that inestimable fountain from whence he derives all his classical knowledge, a slight acquaintance with the geography of France, just sufficient to enable him to understand the news of the day, is all the learning he aspires after. Talk of the stars to him, and he will say he never looks at any, but those in a woman's face. Talk of the soul, friendship, mind, &c. and he will interrupt you by saying, that is a jargon he does not understand. There is one science, I believe the whole of his sex are perfectly conversant inthat of eating and drinking; on the subject of which they could outtalk Apicices himself. And I will do them the justice to say, that even the most stupid of them could reduce it to a system, in a very elaborate treatise on tarts and custards.

Many of our youth are so monstrously barren, that I can positively affirm, that there are not eight out of ten who can spell an epistle of one page in length without the immediate aid of a dictionary. As to their accomplishments in the most delightful of all studies, the works of the poets, I can say little or nothing to their advantage. 'The swift, though tender ray of Apollo's halo cannot penetrate their opake brows. Ignorance, if not vitious hardiment, has shielded their brazen foreheads; and to their dull ear the "concord of sweet sounds" is charmless.

I know that there are some who have skimmed the surface of literature; and being swelled with the little preeminence they have over their companions, they are wild to show their superiority over common sense. Flinging reason behind them, they set up for men of extraordina ry genius; and like the Persian glass-man, in his foolish

vision, they kick about their earthly happiness, and hopes of future felicity, with a real lunatic fury.

Yet there are others of our young men who are an hon our to their country-who join, with all the charms of a beautiful form, the more attracting, the more fascinating graces, of a richly cultivated understanding, and a poeti cal and delicate taste; whose society will always be saught after with eagerness; and when absent, the remembrance of their virtues and accomplishments will play a lambert flame around our hearts, and no time can erase their lovely ideas from our memories. How different are the sensations which agitate the bosom of a female, in the company of a thoughtless coxcomb!

She lets the poor little butterfly flutter round her and buz its empty nothings in her ear; and when it takes its flight, thinks no more of it than of those insects which sparkle in the summer's blaze.

I am well aware that if this ever meets the eye of those to whom I address it, they will set me down as a disappointed-ugly-old maid. But I deny the charge-I am not old, for I have not yet lived twenty-two years --I think I am not ugly, provided I may believe the daily rhapsodies of at least half a dozen of these popingays; and I know I am rich. So I make out that I am neither the disappointed, the ugly, nor the old,

Freemasons' Magazine.

The way to make money plenty in every man's pocket.

At this time, when the general complaint is that "mor ney is scarce," it will be an act of kindness to inform the moneyless how they may reinforce their pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret of money-catchingthe certain way to fill empty purses, and how to keep them always full.

Two simple rules, well observed, will do the business. First, let honesty and industry be thy constant companions; and,

Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear gains. Then shall thy hide-bound pocket, soon begin to thrive, and will never again cry with the empty belly-ache:

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