for the first conception of what he has en- | deavoured to execute. It occurred to him that, by filling up such an outline on a wider canvass, it might be possible to exhibit a picture, if imperfect not unfaithful, of modern habits and manners, and of the amusements and lighter occupations of the higher classes of society in England. The shortness of the Ode has tempted him to imitate it. Classical readers may not perhaps he displeased at meeting with occasional allusions to a favourite author, while to others they will be, at the worst, indifferent, and may, as such, be passed over without injury to the Poem."

We consider them as very pleasing ornaments to the poem, which has the fault of being rather too long for a Jeu d'esprit, and as good reliefs to the repetitions which this fault involves. Charles, the modern Achilles in the toils of his Deidamia, has been

The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers

in a word, the Prince of Dandies. The pic-
ture of a fop is excellently drawn; we copy
the most characteristic traits:-

How much at home was Charles in all
The talk aforesaid-nicknamed small!
Seldom embarrassed, never slow,
His maxim always "touch and go;"
From grave to gay he ran with case,
Secure alike in both to please.
Chanced he to falter? A grimace
Was ready in the proper place;
Or a chased snuff-box, with its gems
And gold, to mask his ha's and hems,
Was offered round, and Culy rapped,
Till a fresh topic could be tapped.
What if his envious rivals swore
'Twas jargon all, and he a bore?
The surly sentence was outvoted,
His jokes retailed, his jargon quoted;
And while he sneered or quizzed or flirted,
The world, half angry, was diverted.

Charles was a master, a professor
Of this great art-a first-rate dresser.
Oft have I traced him through the town,
Mowing whole ranks of beauty down,
Armed at all points, from head to foot,
From rim of hat to tip of boot.
Above so loose, below so braced,
In chest exuberant, and in waist
Just like an hour-glass, or a wasp,
So tightened, he could scarcely gasp.
Cold was the nymph who did not dote
Upon him, in his new-built coat;
Whose heart could parry the attacks
Of his voluminous Cossacks-
Trowsers so called from those barbarians
Nursed in the Steppes-the Crim Tartarians,
Who, when they scour a country, under
Those ample folds conceal their plunder.
How strange their destiny has been!
Promoted, since the year fifteen,
In honour of these fierce allies,
To grace our British legs and thighs,
Fashion's a tide which nothing stems;
So the Don mingles with the Thames.

No more his well-brushed hair is sleek
With eau de miel, or huile antique."
The golden key no more unlocks,
By Brahmah's aid, his rosc-wood box;
And with the treasures there displayed,
Dazzles the wondering chambermaid;

As, on her broom reclined, she pauses,
Ogling the silver cups and vases,
Whence steams a mingled soft perfume,
New to her nostrils, through the room.
No more with buck ram or with wool
His overloaded bosom's full;
One glance from you is quite enough
To "cleanse it of that perilous stuff."
His tortured ribs have burst their cerements,
Loosed by the spell of your endearments,
And, like delinquents freed from jail,
His waist is fairly out on bail.
Julia, you've moved its habeas corpus;
But when the man is grown a porpus,
Long, long before the season's ended,
You'll wish it had still been suspended.

There is one exquisite touch.
"Have you, my friend," I've heard him say,
"Been lucky in your turns* to-day?-+
The following view of a well known ride
in the Park is very humorous.

Rotten Row;

Where ancient gentlemen come forth,
Screened from the breezes of the north,
To bask them in the province won
When birds on leafless branches sing,
From Winter by the southern sun :
And the last days of April bring
A lame apology from Spring.
There, on their easy saddles pumping
Fresh air into their lungs by bumping,
Under the lee of wood and wall
They nod and totter to their fall;
Their only business to contrive
The ways and means to keep alive.
And, if permitted by the fates,
Encumber long their sons' estates;
Which, in compassion to the Jews,
The fates aforesaid oft refuse.

The effects of Peace are placed in a ludi-
crous light.

Too warm, my friend, your anger waxes;
Consider, pray, the war and taxes.
First 'twas Napoleon and the French.
Now 'tis The Peace.-We must retrench.
War was a bitter scourge and curse;
Yet peace is, somehow, ten times worse.
Peace, or (as more than one division
Has gravely voted it) Transition,

As Commerce droops and times grow harder,
Shuts here a cellar, there a larder;
By slow, yet sure degrees, disables
Parks, gardens, eating-rooms, and stables;
Nor yet in her career relents,

But mows down whole establishments.
The poor, the middling, shoot a pitch
More and more humble ;-ev'n the rich
From whose fat acres milk and honey
Keep flowing in the shape of money,
For lean economy produce
If not a reason, an excuse.
Their rates are high, their rents decrease,
Their corn's a drug;-'tis all the Peace!
This jade-like Peace! Say, who will father her,
Unless she's sworn to the tax-gatherer?
The satire upon lotteries is not less desery-
ing of praise, for its talent and object.
Play has been always a temptation

In

every climate, age, and nation.
Our neighbours scorn to live without it;
But then they never cant about it;

That is, the turns of his cravat, a matter of
sufficient importance to occupy several dandy
hours daily, unless lucky.

† A question actually put by a great master en fait de Cravates to one of his most promising pupils.

Nor vow their indignation rises
In thinking of our blanks and prizes ;
Nor read us lectures, nor condemn
In us, the faults we share with them;
While we, so moral and demure,
So overnice, so overpure,
Who, with uplitted eyes and hands,
Deplore the sins of foreign lands,
And thus relentlessly make war
On Creps, Roulette, and Rouge-et-noir,
Deem it humane, and just, and wise,
To raise a tax on Lotteries !

"Cards! how atrocious !-dice! how wicked!
But go, my friend, and buy a ticket.-
French gamblers all are malefactors;

Ours only innocent contractors,
Who puff, 'tis true, but, like the quacks,
Morals are quite a treasure, when you
In putting pay another tax.
Don't touch a greater-the Revenue ;
Frauds will exist, in vain we cramp 'em ;
But for their instruments-we stamp 'em.
Since roguery cannot be kept under,
'Tis statesman-like to share the plunder,
And thus, extracting good from evil,
Compound with God, and cheat the Devil."
Such thy morality, Vansittart,
Thou, who the pupil of great Pitt art!

O! that there might, in England, be
A duty on Hypocrisy!

A tax on humbug, an excise
On solemn plausibilities!

No income-tax, if these were granted,
Need be endured, or could be wanted;
Nay-Van, with an o'erflowing chest,
Might soon abolish all the rest!

There is an amusing coup d'œil thrown over the autumn in London, from which we select one of the touches.

No longer from the footman's thumb
And finger, peals of thunder come.
Closed are the doors, the knockers dumb.
No cards, in broad cast sown about,
Alarm us with a red-hot rout;
Nor, in a rainy blustering night,
(The London-Coach-makers' delight)
Comes on the startled ear, from far,
The hubbub of domestic war
In yonder Square, where half the town
Are taking up, and setting down,
In breathless haste, amid the din
Of drunken coachmen cutting in.
Hushed is the sound of swearing, lashing,
Of tangled wheels together clashing,
Of glasses shivering, pannels crashing,
As thus they try their rival forces
In whips, and carriages, and horses.
What though their mistresses should fret,
Be frightened, trampled on, or wet?
How, but by prancing in the mud,
Can pampered cattle show their blood?
Honor's at stake;-and what is comfort,
Safety, or health, or any sum for't?
The bills, 'tis true, to those up stairs,
Are somewhat heary, for repairs;
But courage, coachnen! Such disasters
Are not your business, but your masters'.

Driven into the country, we find our Exquisite, among other rustic enjoyments, indulging in Leicestershire hunting, with the Melton club. Being roused to the sports in a bad morning is excellent.

No more the punctual groom shall shake
His master till they both awake.
To listen to the wind and rain
At six loud clattering on the pane,

zette.

stances ascertained by the ingenious M. leaves, which are every moment brought in | along the stems, taking from every quarter Huber, than to indulge in theorizing; and by their fellow-assistants; and this gives a materials adapted to its object, sometimes, we therefore proceed to his History of Ants, certain consistence to the edifice, which in-not caring to destroy the work that others which we have found so entertaining, that creases in size daily. Our little architects had commenced; so much are its motions we have no doubt it will furnish more than leave here and there cavities, where they regulated by the idea it has conceived, and one interesting paper for the Literary Ga intend constructing the galleries which are to upon which it acts, with little attention to lead to the exterior; and as they remove in all else around it. It goes and returns, until The first chapter treats of the architecture the morning the barriers placed at the en- the plan is sufficiently understood by its of ants, of which the species mentioned in trance of their nest the preceding evening, companions." this volume are the Herculean, (Formica the passages are kept entire during the whole "From these observations, and a thousand herculanea, Linn.) the Ethiopian (F. Nigra), time of its construction. We soon observe similar, I am convinced that each ant acts the Fuliginous (F. Fuliginosa), the Brown it to become convex; but we should be independently of its companions. The first (F. Brunnea), the Yellow (F. flava), the greatly deceived did we consider it solid. who conceives a plan of easy execution, imFallow, 2 kinds (F. Rufa), the Red (F. Ru-This roof is destined to include many apart-mediately gives the sketch of it; others have bra), the Turf (F. Caspitum), the Dark Ash-ments or stories. Having observed the mo- only to continue what this has begun, judging, coloured (F. Fusca), the Mining (F. Cunicu- tions of these little masons through a pane of from an inspection of the first labours, in laria), the Rufescent (F. Rufescens), and glass which I adjusted against one of their what they ought to engage. They can all the Sanguine (F. Sanguinea). The various habitations, I am enabled to speak with some lay down plans, and continue to polish or habits of these wonderful insects are amply degree of certainty upon the manner in which retouch their work as occasion requires. The described; and were we not assured by ocu- they are constructed." water furnishes the cement they require, and lar examination, of the truth of many of the the sun and air harden the materials of which particulars, we could hardly extend our betheir edifice is composed. They have no lief to the prodigies related by the author: other chisel than their teeth, no other combut we have witnessed so much that we can pass than their antennæ, and no other trowel credit all. To return to the architecture; we than their fore-feet, of which they make use find that their habitations, their cities, are not in an admirable manner, to affix and consothe least curious of their performances. Mr. lidate the moistened earth." Huber details the formation of a domicile by the fallow ants, and adds:

"Our little insects, now in safety in their nest, retire gradually to the interior before the last passages are closed, one or two only remain without, or concealed behind the doors on guard, whilst the rest either take their repose, or engage in different occupations in the most perfect security.

"I never found, even after long and violent rains, the interior of the nest wettedto more than a quarter of an inch from the surface, provided it had not been previously out of repair, or deserted by its inhabitants.

"The ants are extremely well sheltered in their chambers, the largest of which is placed nearly in the centre of the building; We have thus some idea of that masonry it is much loftier than the rest, and traversed which erects the abodes familiar to every only by the beams that support the ceiling: eye, though the execution may not be fait is in this spot that all the galleries termi-miliar to many minds. The second chapter nate, and this forms, for the most part, their contains an account of the eggs, larva and usual residence." pupae; and here other marvels are unfolded. "Those ants who lay the foundation of aIn the ants nest are males whose sole busiwall, a chamber, or gallery, from workingness is to perpetuate the species and die; separately, occasion now and then a want of females who are waited upon like peeresses coincidence in the parts of the same or dif- in their own right, who neither toil nor spin, ferent objects. Such examples are of no un- but are served by neutrals, labourers, who frequent occurrence, but they by no means tend their innumerable eggs, nourish and embarrass them. What follows proves that unfold the larvæ, and in short, do all the the workman, on discovering his error, knew duties of mothers, nurses, and menials. The how to rectify it.