of course, is clear. She was a purchaser with notice, and you behaved to her with the utmost honour and propriety.

But if flirtation does not tend towards matrimony, neither does it at all approach to the nature of a French liaison. The essence of a flirtation consists far less in facts than in forms. It may mean something, or it may mean nothing, "thereafter as it may be." That, however, is nobody's business but the parties concerned; only, in the former case, they must take care not "to be blown :" for then the flirtation is at an end, one way or other; either by a cut, or an honourable marriage with the detected lady. Such cases, moreover, are exceptional: the generality of flirtations are altogether for the world; publicity is their essence, and the scire tuum nihil est the great maxim by which their course is directed. Still less is a flirtation to be confounded with the cecisbeism of Italy; which, though equally open and above-board, is a matter of no consequence or regard in the world. It occasions no talk, it excites no scandal, and it does not drive any one mad with unsuccessful rivalry. The cecisbeo has even been known to figure in the marriage settlement, which has not, we believe, as yet occurred in the case of the English male flirt. The Italian scheme, therefore, is wholly wanting in those points which give the charm to a flirtation. Nothing, indeed, is more common than for the parties in a flirtation to separate by mutual consent, when the world ceases to look on, and fixes its attention upon some newer or more scandalous candidates for notoriety.

From the various lights thrown out in the course of these remarks, it must be apparent that one cause of the difficulty in defining a flirtation is the various forms it assumes. A flirtation with a missey is a very different thing from a flirtation with a married woman; a flirtatation by the night is by no means identical with a flirtation by the season; and both differ amazingly from those solid substantial connexions which take place between ladies of or about forty, and gentlemen some fifteen or twenty years older, and which go on uninterruptedly even to the verge of the grave. There is, however, one feature common to all, and that is the absence of any very deep feeling. The mainspring of a flirtation being vanity, the moment it degenerates into passion, it changes its entire nature. The prettiest flirtations are ever carried on by people who are blazés, and apathetical to ennui. Such a pair will draw the eyes of the largest circle on themselves by the air of empressement on the one part, and of absorption on the other, which they assume, while the matter in discourse between them shall not exceed the polish of the gentleman's boot, or the cut and fancy of the lady's sleeve. In nine instances out of ten, the advances to a flirtation are made by the lady; and the secret charm by which she swindles a man out of his time and attentions is the patience with which she listens to his endless babble about himself. An observer of the by-play, who marked the gentleman's regards immoveably fixed on the lady's eyes, as though he would penetrate through them to her very soul, while he screens his face from the company with his hand, by way of giving assurance to the world that he has something to conceal, would hardly imagine that the interesting communication he was making related only to his horse, or his dog, the wall he leaped, or the heads of game he bagged last Wednesday. This, at least, is generally the conversation with a youngish man; if he verges more on middle-life, his discourse is of the

coulisses, or of the dress he is to wear at the approaching fancy ball. In very confirmed and well-established flirtations, we have known the lady's interest canvassed in behalf of an unacknowledged daughter; or she has been made the confidante of the uneasiness of the gentleman's ménage in Lisson Grove or Brompton. Sometimes she is told of heavy losses at play, and of the absolute necessity of contracting a marriage with some "stale piece of virginity who has got the siller," or some pursy dowager of a deceased nabob, in which the lady is expected to assist. A flirtation is occasionally a mere affair of politics. A lady is let loose at some half-witted vote who is to be converted, as a hawk is flown at a pigeon; or a minister is held in the chains of a "diplomatic woman," in order that he may trust her with his secret, or be directed by her in his policy.*

But whatever may be the nature of a flirtation, it is, while it lasts, a most engrossing piece of business; and when it has settled into a habit, the man is a slave for life. A passion may have its ebbs and flows; but a flirtation moves on more steadily, labitur et labetur, morning, noon, and night, to the end of the chapter. Every hour has its occupation. There is the billet before breakfast, the ride before dinner, the gossip at the carriage-door at Howell and James's. There is the morning lounge to be visited, the horse to be bought, the bouquet to be bespoke, the diamond necklace to be fresh set, and the pattern chosen. Then at night, the opera-box, the assembly, the crocchio ristretto in the boudoir, or the midnight supper with the coterie, all take their turns, and must be attended with unfailing punctuality. The business of a flirtation being to kill time, it must leave no waking part of the twentyfour hours without its office and "limited service." From the thraldom of matrimony there are many decent means of escape. Let a wife be as exigeante as she may, she may be shaken off; but break up the continuity of a flirtation, and it is dissolved for ever; and then, as the Frenchman said, when asked to marry his mistress, "Where shall I pass my evenings?" In vain may a man hope, by bolting into the country, to get a temporary rest from his labours: he may as well remain where he is. Quires of closely-written note-paper must atone for the absence; and an official frank alone will cover the infinite quantity of nothings which must be daily forwarded to satisfy the vanity and the indolence of his délaissée.

So much, then, for the exoteric portion of our subject. As for the interior and more recondite matter which is hidden from the garish eye of day-but we must be discreet,

"Le scandale du monde est ce qui fait l'offense,

Et ce n'est pas pecher que pecher en silence."

Notwithstanding, therefore, the glitter and brilliancy we could throw upon our pages by the blanks, dashes, and asterisks, with which we could illumine this portion of the subject, we refrain. We are sorry for it, but we really cannot help ourselves.

μο

* A friend, who has cast an eye on the M.S., objects to this paragraph as a trap to the fair sex. He holds, that a flirtation is never thus innocent; and that its natural termination is-what we will not mention. With the young, he thinks such frivolous conversations rather marks of the heartlessness, than the prudence of the parties, while with the more advanced, they argue their corruption. This, however, is his opinion: non meus hic sermo.

SCENES IN A COUNTRY-HOUSE.

No. III.-OLD TIMES AND MODERN TIMES.*

THREE or four days passed together, had tended very much to reconcile the London fine gentleman and the old English country squire to each other; and Sir George Oldstyle began to think that the stay of Captain Morland at Carperby Hall, if it did not add much to the good Baronet's own enjoyment, seemed to enliven the whole family, and make them display many little talents and accomplishments of which he never suspected them to be possessed. Even Lady Oldstyle had been bitten by the mania for sketching which the Captain had introduced, and having entirely neglected that pursuit since her marriage, seemed to resume it again with all a convert's zeal. Paint-boxes and casels were summoned from the dust in which they had been reposing for the last twenty years; and the care-worn face of the veteran artist might daily be seen bending over a not very promising sketch of the view from her windows, her whole soul wrapped up in her painting, and her whole body in a much-smeared brown Holland pinafore. Sir George, as he came home from his daily walk, or shooting, would shrug his shoulders, ask her how she got on, and declare that "She looked for all the world like an old nun on an Ash-Wednesday," though whether he ever met the object of his comparison cannot be discovered.

As for Miss Oldstyle, encouraged by Captain Morland, who was passionately fond of music, she quite travelled out of the region of Pleyel's sonatas, and Haydn's and Handel's symphonies, in which she had been confined during all her home performances, and ventured to give, with all the effect which the mode in which they are now set for the piano-forte allows, some of the more modern operas. Sir George at first listened with uneasiness to the strange melodies that met his ear, and was half inclined to interdict them; but after he had made one unsatisfactory trial of the similarity of his guest's taste with his own, by letting him hear "The yellow-haired Laddie, with brilliant variations," (his own favourite piece,) which the Captain, however, did but "damn with faint praise," and two of Bach's most famous overtures, which did not appear to kindle a spark of enthusiasm, he gave up the point in despair. Very soon, however, when his ears got accustomed to the airs, he found that he could even reconcile himself to hear the finest bits of Rossini, Weber, or Bellini, played in the best style and spirit; and if he did not himself ask for "Soave e bel contento," "Vieni fra queste braccie," or "Vien diletto," it was only because, as he himself confessed, he never could recollect their outlandish names.

Captain Morland, too,-but let Captain Morland speak for himself, and that cannot better be done than by giving some extracts from a letter which he addressed from Carperby Hall to Lady G, with whom he carried on a very innocent correspondence. After mentioning the motives of his visit, and the events on the first evening of his arrival, he goes on:

"I am glad I did not write to you sooner, as I should have given you a different, and, certainly, not so true an account of the family as the

*Continued from vol. xlix. page 340.

one which I now send. I thought, from what I first saw of him, that my host would turn out a regular old bear, determined always to have his own way, and that way one peculiar to himself. I still think, that, even supposing he is always right, he might show a little less contempt, and a little more tolerance for those who are wrong. They say, you know, 'la jeunesse est âpre et intolerante à la viellesse bien plus que celle-ci ne l'est envers elle;' whether or not this be true on a grand scale, and in the great world, it certainly is just the contrary here. I could like Sir George if he were twice as odd and singular in his ways and notions as he is; whereas, I am sure that my great crime in his eyes is my not seeing things exactly in the same light as he does; and, in short, not being able to change my whole self in a few days. I know you will say that, as it is only for a few days, I might easily, according to the good old rule, me parer a ses yeux de ses inclinations, donner dans ses maximes, ensenser ses défauts, et applaudir à ce qu'il fait.' Perhaps all this would be wiser, but you know I cannot do it, I must be myself or nothing at all; I must be either liked as I am, or go to others who are more charitable in their judgments, and more easily pleased. With all his oddities, however, Sir George is really a very good, kind-hearted, old fellow, and we are getting better friends every day; indeed, I am in especial favour to-day, from having arranged to go out shooting with him for the first time to-morrow.

"Of Lady Oldstyle, I need not tell you much: she seems to me to be one of those 'excellent persons when you know them,' those 'cold people' who are

"Beyond all price,

When once you've conquered their confounded ice," those domestic ladies whose sphere is home, and whose happiness is by their own fireside. She belongs, in short, to a class quite above my ken, but not, as you see, beyond my admiration. She used, at first, to open her eyes in mute astonishment as I conversed with Miss Oldstyle on ordinary topics of the day, which one hears constantly discussed with young ladies, but which, it seems, in this old-fashioned place, are supposed to be quite beyond the comprehension of a girl of seventeen. She is now, however, entirely engrossed by her painting, in the pursuit of which she shows more enthusiasm than I could have supposed her capable of; and though she is working at it in the same room, leaves me to what is as good as a tête-à-tête with the fair Fanny.

Having mentioned that young lady's name, I cannot any longer put off the pleasure of describing her to you; and when I have done so, it will be unnecessary for me to add that all my conversations with her, even those that have most astonished the good mother, have been of the most harmless nature, merely her opinions on such subjects as her quickness of mind and purity of heart would appear most likely to have induced and enabled her to think. Of her personal appearance I will not say much, as I am not in love with her, nor you likely to see her-a long description therefore would be a pleasure to neither of us. I need only say that she is a fair beauty, with quite enough of good looks to make any one find out her other good qualities. Her quiet, simple dignity of manner-her voix argentée,

Soft, gentle, and low;
An excellent thing in woman"-

and the natural way in which she shows whether she approves, or is really interested in what one is saying, make a conversation with her the most delightful thing in the world. With her, a smile of approval and a look of attention are not mere matters of course, nor to be extracted by observations which even he who makes them knows to be utterly unworthy of either. In consequence of all this, and in order to have a little more of the new sort of pleasure I am enjoying in this house, I have determined to extend my stay for a few days longer. You will, of course, on hearing this, jump at the conclusion that I am already in love with Miss Oldstyle: you would, however, take a much greater jump than I have as yet done. No, no; in the first place, and that is the most important point, I doubt very much whether she could like me: I am sure she could not and ought not to like me as I am now. In the second place, being the only child, she will be a great fortune, and though I have determined to push my way into wealth and consideration, it shall not be by means of a rich wife. This, at least, I feel most sincerely, now that I am not in love; whether I could have strength of mind enough to keep to it if I were, I know not; better therefore flee the temptation before I give way to it, as others would then judge of me as I should now judge of myself.

"I have not said anything, and will not say much to you, of the little Fanny's religious feelings. You know that we have always agreed in not entertaining any great partiality for your serious fashionables in London, who introduce their favourite subject of conversation by the head and shoulders, amid the most incongruous topics, and who 'contrive a double debt to pay,' 'toujours en régle avec l'eglise, et avec le monde.' Fanny is not one of these; but after silently observing her through the whole of yesterday (Sunday), in which I accompanied the family party (as I found it was thought a matter of course that I intended to do so) to both churches, I was quite charmed at the unaffected pleasure with which she seemed to enjoy the whole day. I do sincerely believe that that one day has been from her youth upwards (and long may it so continue) to her the happiest day of the week; and that if she is prevented by the weather, or any unforeseen occurrence, from getting to her humble little church, she is as much disappointed as many a débutante I know, when her vouchers for Almack's are refused."

The above extract from Captain Morland's letter has been given, because it affords a pretty accurate idea of the relative position and feelings towards each other, of the different inmates of Carperby Hall. If it does not exhibit the exact state of his mind as regarded Fanny, it at least tells all that he was inclined to confess to one of his most intimate friends, nay, perhaps, as much as he had ascertained himself. The morning had now arrived which was fixed on for Morland's first shooting expedition with Sir George. As he could not quite reconcile himself to losing the sight of Fanny at the breakfast table on one of the few mornings that now remained to him, he had particularly requested Sir George that they should not start till after the usual breakfast hour, observing that, "Now that the birds were wild, if they were disturbed at their feeding while the dew was on the ground, they would not get at - them all day." Sir George, who was in high good-humour at the Captain's accompanying him, readily agreed, saying, "Anything to please you, my young friend, even to pursuing country sports at London hours."