gen

"of nature, and of common fenfe," still do attempt to practife thofe graces which, in their ideas, constitute the very effence of politeness and tility. They do nothing like other people. They are so attentive to the manner, that they cannot deliver a news-paper, ask a common question, or walk across a room, without impreffing on the mind a strong idea of that affectation which they miftake for elegance, and which, instead of infuring the refpect, never fails to excite the derifion and contempt of men of fenfe.

THIS can never be properly called politeness. Genuine politeness is incompatible with hypocrify and affectation; and he who practises the arts of the latter, can never poffefs the former, which is a flower fpringing from the goodness of the heart, rather than of the head; an internal perfection, rather than an external accomplishment; a pliability of difpofition, which fhews itself in the performance of thofe innumerable little kindnesses, which apparently confer no obligation, but which neverthelefs conftitute the chief cement of society, and endear mankind to each other.

I AM well aware that the performance of these fociable actions, this minutie of friendly intercourse, is not confidered as the object of politenefs; but that its grand conftituent is the manner in which these kindnesses are expreffed; and this idea is the very fountain-head whence flow those innumerable streams of affectation and fupercilioufnefs which so abundantly water the fields of politenefs and good breeding as to render them more fruitful in the rank weeds of folly, than the flowers of elegant gentility.

THAT fome favours acquire a double value from the manner in which they are conferred, the experience of every man can testify. But that this manner requires very fingular address, and is fo difficult of attainment as the fons of politeness would have us believe, is not quite fo obvious. In the action or manner of him who is heartily defirous of ferving us, we shall never difcover either aukwardnefs or affectation: the benevolence of his intention gives a life and a manner to his action indefcribably pleafing, and which fashionable politenefs vainly endeavours. to imitate, and can never acquire. In this action, and in this manner confifts that genuine politenefs which fo widely differs from the politeness of courts, and which courts can never teach : becaufe the former is the product of bencvolence; the latter of diffimulation; the one is the offspring of that focial kindness implanted in the bofom by the hand of nature; the other, the

bungling effort of art: the wretched substitute for fmothered fociableness and brotherly kindness. And hence arifes the difficulty of being what the world calls polite; for the politeness of the world confifts in imposing on mankind; in subftituting fpecious profeffions for generous actions, and endeavouring to pafs current the tinfel of art, as the bullion of nature. This artificial conduct of those who affume to themfelves precedency in politenefs, gave occafion to the best of all moral writers to remark, that " he had not "found among any part of mankind, less real and "rational complaifance, than among those who "have paffed their time in paying and receiving "vifits, in frequenting public entertainments, in studying the exact measures of ceremony, and in "watching all the variations of fashionable "courtesy."

THE Science of true politeness contains but few rules, and thofe very fimple. I believe they may be reduced to two: First, always to give that preference to others which arrogance would affume to itfelf; and, fecondly, on all occafions, to adopt that golden rule, so often praifed, fo feldom practifed, and fo unmeritedly rejected in all modern fyftems of politeness, which advises men, "to do unto others as "themselves would wish to be done unto;" a rule totally fubverfive of the noble Earl's fyftem, which is built on a profefied violation of duties incumbent on every human being who has any regard for the good-will of good men, or the approbation of heaven. Of a fyftem thus vitiated and depraved, it is no wonder that the followers and admirers were numerous. We always lend a willing ear to him that promises to render us amiable in the eyes of others, more especially if his inftructions, at the fame time, tend to liberate us from the restraints of morality, and the duties of religion.

THERE are few men, particularly young men, without the defire of external accomplishments. Previous to the labour of acquifition, I fhould wish them always to confider the real value of that which they are folicitous to obtain: candidly to weigh its advantages with its inconveniencies; and if it cannot be acquired but with the facrifice of principle, to reject it altogether, not only as contemptible, but as deftructive of its own purposes. He that makes himself acquainted with external accomplishments, but with a view of laudably recommending himself, and of rendering his fervices the more acceptable to his fellow-creatures, has learned only that which he will foon find it neceffary to unlearn

and

and if in the pursuit of fuch narrow fame, he has injured his innocence, will the applause of vanity and of folly, of the idle and of the fashionable, afford any recompence for the lofs of that which can never be regained? He can never err, who in the purfuit of accomplishments, can aflure himself that he fhall not repent of his acquifitions; and who fhall have so used them, as to bear their remembrance in that hour when "vanity is divested of her robes, power deprived of her fceptre, and hypocrify drops her • mafk."

"Nul fuit unquam tam difpar tibi.” PUNNING is a fpecies of amusement too common with our modern petit maitres, who have not fenfe fufficient to talk half an hour rationally without punning on every sentence and word that is repeated. Punning resembles a general flying over to the enemy, and enflaving his country. Though we approve of the treafan, we defpife the traitor. The pun we may admire, but the punfter is always treated with contempt, from a presumption that we are, ourselves the subject of his ridicule.

TIMOTHY ARTIST is, as moft little people are, vain to a proverb, and very tenacious of his own abilities, which, if we credit his own words, furpafs nature! Egotifm is his Pegasus, on which he rides in obfcurity. I met him the other evening accidentally, at the house of a friend, where I -was invited to a small card party. On my entering the room, before the ufual compliments of politeness had enfued, he feized my hand, gave me -a tremendous shake, and with an almost unintelligible voice asked me how I did? Then-without waiting for an answer-repeated a whole ftring of devilish good puns, as he called them, which he had made fince he saw me last, and which I could not possibly attend to, from my aukward painful fituation. My inattention rather chagrined him; however he permitted me, at laft, to fit down.

An English pause enfued-a paufe which intervenes in all companies when the gentlemen are picking their teeth, looking at their watches, or loft in the admiration of a delicate white hand which the company must not be ignorant of: the ladies, on the other fide, viewing each other with infignificant fmiles.This filence remained for the fpace of five minutes, which my friend Timothy obferving, was willing to remove; and -to the furprize of the ladies, whose blushes evinced their astonishment-he put his hand, as if inadvertently, on a critical part of the gentleman's breeches who fat next to him; perceiving his purpofed error, he asked if they were not fattin? The gentleman, with a farcaftic referve, replied No-that they were nankeen. The words were fcarcely faid, when my friend Timothy exclaim ed-I beg your pardon, Sir, all breeches are fat in! -He then burst out into an immoderate fit of laughter, which forced the laugh of the company at his folly, instead of the pun. Tea was ferved round. The lady of the House asked my friend if he chofe Bohea? he replied in the negative, that he preferred Belle-fhe! Another peal of laughter fucceeded-from himself-with a conftant repetition of "That's very good! very good indeed!"-He always places himself at the corner of a table, and will not eat, which the company naturally obferving, he then ecchoes their furprife with "Not eat! bless me! I am amazed at "that; for I am fharp fet!"-alluding to the corner of the table against his breast.

THIS is a true copy of TIMOTHY ARTIST, who is an exact image of Sancho Panza. Had he but the proverbs-inftead of his puns there is fuch a striking resemblance, that I fhould certainly have mistaken him for an illegitimate offspring of that famed hero. This Original, friend SPEC, will reflect on a sensible mind, the contempt, which it must be subject to, by repeating a string of stale, trite jokes, without time or place to recommend them!

"Learn to be wife from others' harm,

And you fhall do full well."

IN Bulia, as in London, there are many public amusements, and, amongst the reft, theatrical exhibitions; but not to be compared with thofe of London. The performers are, in general, idle and diffipated; the men peculiarly irreligious, and the women peculiarly frail. In this character, however, they are not all to be included. The Bulian stage boats of fome men morally good, and of fome women piously chafte.

AMONGST other actreffes whofe beauty of person and theatrical merit excited particular notice, and the applause of the Bulian audience, was Ligrac; and fuch was the peculiarity of her fortune, that it deferves commemoration. A London actress may not be ashamed of receiving instruction from the example of a Bulian heroine.

LIGRAC was the daughter of a Bulian tradefman. She had no other than a common education; but the sweetness of her voice determined her to embrace the profeffion of an actress; and indeed it would have been cruel to have deprived the Bulians of a harmless pleasure by concealing fo excellent a talent. Ligrac was engaged, and captivated all who faw, and all who heard her.

THERE is perhaps no ftation wherein the fair sex are so much exposed to temptation as on the stage. Ligrac, of course, had many admirers; and, amongst the rest, one whofe offers fhe thought it prudent to accept, for they were such as promised the tranquillity of retirement, and the enjoyment of affluence.

EDALI was one of those men who, without any of the accomplishments which render riches refpectable, was ambitious of public regard, and the applause of an ignorant multitude; and these he endeavoured to obtain by emerging into diffipation, by purchafing large quantities of balloons, and by contributing to fuch of the public sports and diversions as delight the "great vulgar, and the little;" for of elegant amusement or mental recreation, Edali had no more conception than a Bulian joint-stool.

AGAINST the charms of beauty, however, neither ignorance nor dulnefs can make any forcible resistance; and as it is a principle of folly to be discontented without the poffeffion of that which has the admiration of multitudes, Edali facrificed a part of his wealth for the company of

Ligrac; and agreed to fupport her for life, on condition that fhe formed no new connexions, and attached herself solely to him.

BUT it was never yet in the power of beauty to render its influence perpetual. Though it may retain its qualities, and even grow more lovely, it can feldom conquer the oppofition of novelty, or insure a lasting attachment of the human heart. Custom renders it familiar, and familiarity produces indifference. Then it is that mental accomplishments, sweetness of disposition, and propriety of conduct are to preferve that affection which beauty created, but which beauty can no longer infure. But qualities like these have little effect on the heart of him who feeks only the gratification of brutal paffions. If, therefore, Ligrac poffeffed them, fhe poffeffed them in vain; for besides the natural infenfibility of Edali, he was not only tired of Ligrac, but he was avaricious, and confequently defirous not only of quitting her arms, but of annulling the contract by which he was bound to support her for life.

IGNORANCE and cunning are often associated. Edali confidered how the latter scheme might be accomplished, and at length found that confederacy was necessary, and therefore imparted his defign to a man of little or no property, and who, like himself, would "circumvent heaven" for intereft. It was now the chief business of these two to find out means for depriving a harmless girl of her livelihood, and to complete the ruin which Edali had begun.

To which of them the honour of the invention is due, I have not been able to discover, but they at length adopted a plan which had the defired. effect; and fhews to what baseness human nature can defcend, and how foon "the wicked find fit inftruments of ill." It was propofed that the confederate, putting on the habit of a Bulian nobleman, and appearing as one poffeffed of more extensive property than Edali, fhould pay his court to Ligrac, and offer her his hand in marriage, which, as Edali had quitted her, it was not likely fhe would refufe. Thus Edali would be freed from the performance of his contract, and his confederate would gain a wife from whose theatrical talents he expected to derive confiderable

emolument.

LIGRAC received the addresses of the confederate, and the nuptials were celebrated. He had recommended himself more particularly by an affurance that she should always have at her command an ærostatic globe of peculiar magnificence and which fhould tranfport her with peculiar rapidity to whatever quarter fhe directed its courfe. A few days after their marriage Ligrac called for

the

the globe; but no globe was to be found; and on enquiring into the reason, her husband calmly informed her of the whole deception. I fhall not attempt to describe the feelings of the unfortunate Ligrac. No pen can describe them ;--and

yet fuch was the goodness of her disposition, that had fhe fallen into other hands, fhe had been reconciled and happy. But alas! what happiness could she expect in the arms of one capable of thus deceiving her? She not only abandoned him, but her country, her father, and her friends. Thousands of leagues did fhe go, and at length found herself in Aidni, breathing perfumes, and living in the luxuries peculiar to that country.

HERE fhe formed a new connexion, and was blessed with an infant. Having acquired riches, and defirous of revisiting her native country, with her lovely infant in her arms, fhe, with many others, entered a balloon destined for Bulia, and with a panting heart bade adieu to Aidni! It was a journey of many months; a journey which the hapless Ligrac never accomplished; for the travelling machine had not been many days launched into the air, before it came over an immenfe confluence of waters, and, fome of its materials giving way, made a rapid defcent into the midst of the waves where Ligrac, her infant, and all her companions perished.

SUCH was the end of the lovely, the unfortunate Ligrac !—Her body was afterwards found by fome Bulian mariners, and what is remarkable, her infant was clasped in her arms. The fight touched even the hard hearts of mariners; with tears in their eyes, they committed the bodies to the carth, and a Bulian poet infcribed this verse over Ligrac's grave:

"Let coxcombs flatter, and let fools adore,

Here learn the leffon to be vain no more!"

POETRY.

THE following ftanzas were written by the immortal Sir Philip Sidney, a lover, and a hero in the glorious reign of Elizabeth; and are communicated to me by a lady who probably thought the inftructions they contain neceffary for my conduct in the article of

WOOING!

FAINT amorift!---what, doft thou think To tafte Love's honey, and not drink One dram of gall?---Or to devour A world of fweet, and tafte no four ?

Doft thou ever think to enter

Th' Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture In Charon's barge ?---A lover's mind Must use to fail with every wind.

He that loves, and fears to try, Learns his mistress to deny. Doth fhe chide? 'Tis to fhew it, That thy coldness makes her do it.

Is fhe filent? Is fhe mute? Silence fully grants thy fuit.

Doth she pout, aud leave the room? Then fhe goes to bid thee come.

Is fhe fick? Why then, be fure, She invites thee to the cure. Doth fhe cross thy fuit with No? Tufh fhe loves to hear thee woo.

Doth the call the faith of men

In queftion? Nay underfoot, fhe loves thee then; And if e'er fhe make a blot,

She's loft if that thou hit'ft her not.

He that after ten denials, Dares attempt no further trials, Hath no warrant to acquire

The dainties of his chafte defire !

THE following truly poetical effufion reflects honour on the author, and confequently needs no apology for infertion.

INVOCATION.

Addreffed to Mrs. Ma r t y r.
ANTEROS fwift thy fecret arrow aim !
To which Creufa fell Medea's prey;
And pierce the heart my eager foul wou'd claim,
Prevent the danger of a Syren's fway!

Then wou'd ftern Ate, on her crimson throne,
Arife and smile amid her bloody crew ;
Leander, own that love with juftice fhone,
Idalia then her tempting light renew!

EDGAR H......

THEATRE S.

WHILST, in the daily prints, praise and cenfure are so partially beftowed on public performances, I cannot refrain saying something, to counteract the prevalence of misrepresentation; and though I fhould not trouble myself with a perpetual review of theatrical affairs from an idea of their importance, yet I am excited by the love of truth, and ftimulated by indignation at its continual abuse, to remark on such exhibitions as I find thus misrepresented by the artifice of avarice, the partiality of friendship, the zeal of ignorance, or the heat of refentment. Drury Lane.

FOR this fortnight paft this theatre has been disgraced by a dance which is usually introduced between the play and the farce, and is called the Sportfman's Return, in which a man fires a gun to

the

the great terror of the ladies, and to give fome colour to the name of the dance. It is tedioufly long and disgusting; and though Mr. Hamoir difplays some merit in his performance, the Sportsman's Return is a miserable example of his skill in compofition. I have never been prefent when it has not completely wearied the patience of the audience, except fuch of them as might never have seen a stage dance before.

BUT indeed, whilft the opera house is open, it is not to be expected that dancing fhould fucceed on the English ftage. There is no veftige of comparison.

JUDAS MACCABE US, by command, on Friday, brought a polite audience, and went off with great spirit. His Majesty was received, as usual, with reiterated marks of loyalty. The Queen and Princesses never fail of fimilar tokens of popular affection and esteem.

THE Double Difguife continues to increase in reputation, and verifies my predictions concerning its success.

Covent Garden.

IN Rute a Wife and Have a Wife, Mrs. Abington has received fo much news-paper applaufe, that it is needless to say any thing of her excellence. The extravaganza of puffing, however, confiderably hurts her; because, after reading fuch accounts, she always falls fhort of expectation, even in Eftifania, the only character in which fhe can pretend to more than general excellence. Her forte is low comedy, but she is so ambitious of reprefenting a fine lady, thrat fhe grows giddy with dress, flutters on the ftage, is ogled by coxcombs-as every woman is, that puffs for itand then is called a fire actress !-Excellent criticism !—I shall next expect to fee her ftiled a beauty!

THAT praise is seldom well grounded which is exaggerated; and I fhould wish to refcue the rereputation of Mrs. Abington out of the hands of her critics, who instead of fhewing her in delicate colours, bedaub her in such a manner with fulfome panegyric, and artificial compliments, that the refembles nothing in the fhape of humanity.

Mrs. CowLEY'S comedy called Which is the Man was performed on Tuesday to a crouded audience. I he comedy itself is intitled to very flender praise; and nothing could have faved it from oblivion, but the comic powers of Mr. Quick and Mrs. Mattocks, who, in the outre Pendragons, ufually excite much laughter. The fable exhibits no fkill, for we very early discover which is the man; an of the principal female character, Lady Bell fo much is faid previous to her appearance, and expectation raised so

high, that we are difappointed. Lady Bell by no means answers her defcription; her perfon and manner, reprefented by Mifs Younge, are indeed charming; but the promised exuberance of wit, and fprightlinefs of dialogue are seldom to be discovered. Moft dramatic writers have policy enough to afford unexpected gratification; but, in this inftance, Mrs. Cowley has reverfed the rule. The performers are not wanting, on their parts, to do the comedy ample justice.

ON Thursday, the Merchant of Venice. Enough, yet not too much, has been faid of Macklin's Shylock. There may be many Shylocks in the world; but on the ftage it will probably be many years before we fee another.-Mifs Younge's Portia has been equalled, but never excelled. -Jeffica was perfonated by Mifs Wheeler of Drury-Lane Theatre, in fuch a manner as to make me regret that fhe is not brought forward as the merits. It may be faid of Mifs Wheeler, that when her theatrical abilities fhall equal, the excellence of her private character, she will be the best actress this kingdom ever produced.

ISABELLA, by Mrs. Crawford, on Saturday, has completely established the reputation of Mrs. Siddons. It were invidious to make comparisons ; and it ought to be fome confolation to the friends of Mrs. Crawford that the plays Ifabella no more. -Henderfon's Biron, like the Drury-lane Ifabella, foars above all praife.-The inferior characters merited the applaufe they received. The Epithalamium, inftead of decorating, difgraced the whole.

The QUEEN of GOLCONDA.

King's Theatre. To the new entertainment of La Regina di Golconda, "The Queen of Golconda," performed on Thursday, it is difficult to affign an appellation in the bills it is mifcalled an opera. It is a kind of dramatic hodge-podge: it is not an opera, for the better part of it confifts of dancing; it is not a ballet, for it is intermixed with finging. We are told it is after the French style, and I truft it is, for it is by no means worthy of any other stage.

THE fable, like most of the Italian fables, is trifling and foolish. Indeed any thing, in that refpect, conceived by genius, or dictated by elegance, is, I believe, never expected in these regions. I have always regarded the Poet of the Italian opera, as the maker of a nauseous pill, which another is obliged to gild, before it can be administered to the patient. The fable and the language of La Regina di Golconda has given me no occafion to alter my opinion.

OF