you choose to remain in a whole skin, take my advice-throw the beast a sop or two out of your abundance, and make it wag its tail in your honour for the remainder of your days." Our lady upon this observesto her confidante-her Diary: "What a system!-what a stifling of honourable sentiment!-what a sacrifice of principle! Heaven preserve me from becoming a convert to Lady Cecilia's code of minor morals! I can understand lighting a candle to the devil, for the prince of darkness is a gentleman.' But to burn farthing rushlights to all the dirty imps of Pandemonium!" 6 The lady is evidently not one inclined to burn rushlights, or any other species of light at an inferior shrine. She goes on observing and sketching, seeing into the secret springs, and avoiding with extraordinary tact the quicksands of fashionable society. Her head, which she considers all-sufficient, is doubtless much occupied in protecting her from evil, but the workings of a kindly and affectionate heart are apparent in all her thoughts. This is one of the rare beauties of the volumes -the perfect nature of the woman contending with her position amongst the sophistications of society. the Much has been written against, and much spleen has been provoked by, a class of novels called fashionable. Every milliner's apprentice, every clerk who could wield a pen, imagined his or herself qualified to expound to the multitude the mysteries of May-fair and Almack's. The book-making mania seized upon many who mistook a desire to write for power of writing; and thus came an inundation of trash which at last overwhelmed the patience of all the readers throughout England. · It is only by the publication of books of the class now upon our table that the stigma put upon the caste can be removed. The authorship of "The Désennuyée" is a state secret, but there can be no mystery as to the classes of society among which he or she has lived both in England and on the Continent. The contrast existing between the habits of the upper ranks, in Paris and London, is well and ably explained; there is a reality in all described, in all felt, which carries you forward with the impression that, though fashionable natures refine, they do not destroy the principles which render interest and action important, not only to existence, but to happiness. "The world," says the fair traveller, on her arrival in France, "is not merely a place of palaces, where pictures are hung up, and statues niched; or where Beatrices and Juliets step daintily on pavements of marble. Sculpture and painting, poetry and romance, are things both beautiful and noble-but nobler still are the every-day workings of the human mind-the progress of nations- the civilization of mankind. A morbid elegance of soul, or refinement of the imagination, produces less poetical results than many a stern reality!" Bitterly does the traveller lament the heavy chain which confines ber wanderings within the pale of what English milords and miladics deem it right to see. Yet everything she does see she seizes and understands, notwithstanding that there is an under-current of strong womanly nature bearing her forward, and carrying also her heart's best impressions and affections, towards a clearly-defined object. The manner in which she tries to avoid any acknowledgment, even to herself, of an affection which would desennuyee the most ennuyéed person in the world, is beautifully as well as delicately conceived, and admirably executed. The widow's heart, it is long seen, has been vanquished, and you are carried onward, not more by a desire to know how it all will terminate, than by the varied and piquant scenes she so admirably describes. The narrative, wisely, is not extended into three volumes-it is as concentrated as it is brilliant; and if it be, as we have heard, a first work, it is the most successful we have met with for years. It will be perceived that we have been led into considering it as the production of a female pen. We have been so, however, unconsciously:-there can be, we think, no question that it is the creation of a woman's mind. We add a few morsels of extract, as samples of the whole. "Emmsbaden.-Happy, thrice happy, that broad-clothed moiety of the human species, which finds itself -"free to rove," free and unquestioned through the wilds and tames of the world, seeking amusement wherever it is to be found-by stage-coach, malleposte, eil-wagen, steam-packet, ferry-boat, or table d'hôte-unaccountable to that brocaded Cinderella, that sifter of diamond dust, Madame Etiquette-untrammelled by the galling harness of ropes, the scrutiny of the vulgar. A woman is like a schoolboy's pet, tortured by constant care. She must not set her foot thereshe must not be exposed to contact here; she must step upon roses, not upon the common earth. She must not inhale the ordinary atmosphere, but be an ambrosia-fed, feeble, shrieveless, helpless dawdle, in order to merit the epithet of feminine.' Like the Strasburg goose, whose morbid merit consists in being all foie-gras, she must be all heart,' a creature of the affections,' sans sense, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything! "The distinctions of my caste, for instance, have compelled me to travel en grande dame with the De Rawdons, fancying my comfort or my pride affected by the superior appointments of a Lord Leicestershire, and pining after gunpowder tea and pine-apple ice; while Clarence Delaval, who met me here on my arrival, has been roughing it to his heart's content, and visiting a thousand interesting spots, a thousand curious monuments, calculated to leave an indelible impression on his mind. I allow something for the love-lorn shepherd's mood of enthusiasm, but envy him, meanwhile, the independence of his tour." So much for Emmsbaden-now for Fontainebleau! "I have deviated from my road for a peep at this fine old historical palace, fraught with reminiscences of le roi des preux, and the " adieux de Napoleon." To-morrow afternoon I shall be in Paris, among new people and new pleasures; and the excitement of expectation seems to have effaced all remembrance of my tedious illness. I expect to find there dispatches from England, containing letters of introduction from the Delavals and Lady Southam, which will be the means of procuring me agreeable society for the winter. "Once more, then, I am on the threshold of a strange city! To a poor weak woman, the approach to Paris is more exciting than even the approach to London; for London is the city of business-Paris of pleasure; London the emporium of sense-Paris of nonsense; London a wood of thriving timber-Paris a garden of ever-varying flowers. London is the mighty throne whence the world is legislated-Paris the graceful temple whence it is civilized. London is the stern and helmeted Pallas-Paris the many-hued Iris. London is, in short, the capital for men, and Paris for women! There we live, and move, and have a being worthy to be so called. There we still exercise an influence in society. There we are not only allowed to talk, but still strangers are earnestly called upon to listen. There, if I am to believe a thousand travelled men and women, we exercise the prerogative which, during the last century, rendered the reign of Louis XV. a reign of cotillons, and conducted the husband of Marie Antoinette to the scaffold, "Paris is, par excellence, moreover, the fountain-head of fashion. When a well-dressed woman enters a London ball-room, it is instantly asserted that she receives from Paris all the appliances and means which render her irresistible-her coiffeur arrives from Paris every spring, and her shoes are forwarded by Melnotte in the dispatch bag. Have you a pretty piece of trinketry on your table, or a handsome vase on your chimney-piece, every admiring visiter is sure to observe," It is evidently Parisian." No one presumes to wear an artificial flower manufactured elsewhere than in the Rue de Richelieu, or to appear in a hat which has not le cachet d'Herbault. "And now I am at length arrived at this El Dorado of frivolity and fancy. The modes I used to receive with such glee in London, I shall now snatch fresh from the mint; and whereas universal Europe derives her cooks, milliners, and dancing-masters from this land of taste, I shall probably, for the first time, hail the perfection of la cuisine et les graces. (In grateful remembrance of George Hanton, I yield precedence to the casserole !) "For some time to come, however, I will eat, drink, dress, and be merry, without committing to paper the commentations of my wondering ignorance. Let me be fairly orientée, before I presume to tell myself what I think of la grande nation, which thinks so much of itself. Coleridge observes, that Frenchmen are like grains of gunpowder, dirty and despicable singly, but tremendous in the mass; now, as I happen highly to estimate a few separate grains, such as little Vauguyon and Monsieur de Nivelles, I may perhaps also reverse the philosopher's opinion, and despise the million." Contrast this with a peep at our English Court. "The Queen's ball was far from so brilliant as that of the Tuileries, the apartments being neither so lofty nor so well lighted. But the whole thing bears closer examination. The men have twice as much the air of gentlemen as the French courtiers; and if I may presume to decide upon my own sex, I should say that, although Frenchwomen are better dressed, the English are better looking. The sons and daughters of Louis Philippe, all so handsome, and so distinguished-looking, impart, indeed, peculiar interest to the fêtes at the Tuileries; but, in this respect, the court of England will soon acquire a new feature, and the suitors likely to throng around our royal Portia, the object of such deep and national European interest, will lend a charm even to the gew-gaw palace at Pimlico." "FEMALE DOMINATION" is a work in three volumes from the practised pen of Mrs. Charles Gore-a lady whom we have missed for some time, and whom we are happy to congratulate on the results of her repose. She has renewed her vigour, added to her experience, and combined them both in an excellent and instructive tale. There are few whose writings flow more gracefully, or whose minds are as richly stored. Well-educated, versed in the manners and habits of excellent society, looking on the vices and follies of the world with a keen eye, and a keen apprehension of what is true and what is false, Mrs. Gore, while she has done much to amuse, has also done much to instruct her contemporaries. Her novels may be introduced into the hallowed circles of home -for her morality is sound and her judgment is ripe. "Female Domination" is calculated to give a valuable lesson to any who desire, in the present day, to see our wives, mothers, and daughters exercise a dominion which would eventually overturn the good order of society, and destroy the happiness of" the fair portion of the creation." The character of Mrs. Armytage-a proud, stern, overbearing, but affectionate woman-is well conceived. Left a widow, with full control over a son and daughter, she becomes lady of the ascendant, stifling as weakness the tenderness of her nature, and assuming a sway which ends in the destruction of her own happiness, and undermines the happiness of others! It is a good lesson, and one which ought not to be neglected. The volumes are staid and well digested-the opinions have been weighed and thought over-and the simple and delicate pencillings of Sophia's character throw a shadow of tenderness over the story which the title did not lead us to hope for. We feared a race of termagantswe have not encountered one. Mrs. Armytage is a lady, and a lady always—a sort of domestic Lady Macbeth ('bating the murder)—a Portia of advanced years-in a word, a person hitherto unknown to the page of the novelist so that we are doubly indebted to Mrs. Gore for the introduction. Had we room, we should have extracted some of the scenes, any of which would act admirably; but we must refer our readers to the volumes. We congratulate Mrs. Gore; and once more we congratulate Mr. Colburn on this his débût. As a publisher, he has never been niggard of his money, his time, or his energies: when employed to bring forward such publications as those we have noticed, it is impossible but that all parties (the public included) must derive advantage from his re-appearance in a situation for which he seems to have been especially designed. ON PASSING THE DEFILES OF MOUNT PARNASSUS, IN 18 THE pleasant sound of eaglets overhead Rushing amidst the swinging pines-and cries Casting their sudden twilight, as if dreams This weak earth burthening with their strength, and man Heroic Poetry. Here, gave they Love his magic of soft tears, Of Wisdom, sudden, to spread out his smiles*. The hydra "Evil" 'neath the throne of Right §. * Erotic Poetry. + Elegiac Poetry. Astrology--to which Poetry was very early applied. Ethical Poetry. The laws of Crete and Athens, &c. were in verse. |