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LOVELL'S LIBRARY -CATALOGUEn 51. 52. 68. &4. 65. 56. 6T. 68. 59. 60, 61. Hyperion, by H. W, lone^feHow, .50 Outre-Mer, by U. W. Loiigfeiiow.20 The Happy Boy, by BjOnison. . . . 10 Arne, br BjOrnson 10 Frankenstein, by Mrs. Shelley... 10 The La.>*t of the Mohicans 20 Clytic, by Joseph Hatton 20 The Mooneitone, by < ollms,P'tI.10 The Moonstone by Collinp.P'tll.lO Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickeue.SO The Coming Race, by Lytton. ... 10 Leila, oy Lord Lytton 10 The Three Suflniards, by Walker. 20 Th«Tricks of the GreeksUnveiled 20 L'Abbe Constantin, by Halevy.-SO Freckles, by R. F Redcliff.. ..20 The Dark Colleen, by Harriett Jay.20 They Were Married! by "Walter Besaiitand J-r-- "f? ■-- 10 SeekerH after O'- W The Spfinish K ■ cey . 1 TheGrecn Mon,^ -. ,- ,. •-'l) PJenrette, by En!4^ii« {:^iribe 'iO Second ThonKiite, by Bronghton.20 The New Magdalen, by Go]iiu8..20 Divorce, bv M argaret I cc 20 Life cf WashiTigton, by H-^nley. .20 Sori.ll Et'.quetie, by Mrs.Sayille.lS S'lTigliB IJpart and Doublo F>.ce. .:!0 Ii\ne, by Carl Detlef 20 \'>ce Yerpa, by F. AnHtey . 20 Eiueet Maltravrs, by LordLytton^O The *lann(ed House andCalderon tije Coarricr, by Lord Lytfon..10 John Halifax, by M)f9 Mulock. ..20 Sirt) Lea:,. A Daughter of Helh ....20 83. The Right and Wrong U?es of the Bible, R. HeberNewton...20 84. Night and KominB, Pt. 1 15 Kight and horning. Part II 15 85. Shandnn Eello. by Wm. Black. .20 86. Monjjca, by the Dnchee§ 10 S7 Heart and :?cience, by Collins. . .20 88. The Golden Calf, . ; Braddon...20 8;.. The Dean 'a Daughter. 20 eo. Mr!'. Gfoflreyj by The DuchesB..20 9'.. Pickwick Pa,pers Part I. 2" Pickwick Papers, Part _1 20 !?2, Airy, Fairy Lilian, The Duchess. 20 'J, 3!cLcod of Dare, by \/m. Bind: 20 S4. Tempest Tossed, by Til ton P tl 20 Tempest Toii?ed.by Tiiton, P tII20 95. Letters from High Latitudes, by Lord Duffer«ii 20 96. Gideon Fleyce, by Locy 20 97. India and Ceylon, by E. Hseckel. .20 98. The Gyp?y Queen 20 99. The Admiral'* Ward. 20 100. >• import, by E. L. Bynner,P'tL.16 Kimport.bvE.L.Bynner^P tll.15 101. Harry Holbrooke 20 iC;;. Tritona,by E. L. Bynner,P"tI. ..15 Tritons, by E.L.Bynner,P til.. 15 103. Let Nothing You Dismay, by Walter Besant 10 104. lady Audley'g Secret, by Misii M. E, Braddon , SO 105. Woman's PiaceTo-day, by Mra, .Lillie Devtrcux Blake 20 106. Dunallan, by Kennedy, Parti. . .15 Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II. ,15 107. Housekefepinp and Home- mate- teg, hy Manon Harland 15 108. No New Thing. byW. E. NorrlB.20 109. The Spoopendyke Papers 20 110. False Hopes, by Goldwin Smith.15 111. Labor and Capital «0 112. Wanda/by Oulda, Part 1 16 W&uda>y Ouida, Part II li *^ SALMAGUNDI WASHINGTON IRVING. NEW YORK: JOHN W; LOVELL COMPANY, 14 AND 16 Vesey Street. SALMAGUNDI. OOl^TENTS. VOLUME I. No. PAGK I. Saturday, Janttary 24, 1807 5 Publisher's Notice. Shakespeare Gallery, New York 6 From the Elbow-Chair of Launcelot LangstaflE, Esq 7 Theatrics— Containing the Quintessence of Modern Criticism. By William Wizard, Esq 12 New York Assembly. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 14 n. Wednesday, February 4, 1807.— From the Elbow-Chair of Launcelot Lang- staff, Esq ." 18 Mr. Wilson's Concert. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent ... 22 Cockloft Family 24 To Laxmcelot Langstaff , Esq 27 Advertisement 29 III. Friday, February 13, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 31 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Kahn, Captain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 33 Fashions. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 36 Proclamation from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 41 Hv. Tuesday, February 24, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 44 Memorandums for a Tour to be entitled, "The Stranger in New Jersey; or, Cockney Travelling." By Jeremy Cockloft, the Younger 46 V. Saturday, March 7, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 51 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan to Abdallah Eb'n Al Rahab, surnamed the Snorer, Military Sentinel at the Gate of his Highness's Palace 51 By Anthony Evergreen, Gent. 59 To the Ladies. From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 63 VI. Friday, March 20, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 66 Theatrics. By William Wizard, Esq r 74 Vn. Saturday, April 4, 1807.— Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Drlver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 80 From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. Notes by William Wizard, Esq. . . 87 Vin. Saturday, April 18, 1807.— By Anthony Evergreen, Qent 91 On Style. By William Wizard, Esq 97 To Correspondents 10^ 4 CONTENTS. No. PAoar IX. SATURDAr, April 25, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair $l... ld5 From my Elbow-Chair 110 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, Captain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli ; ., Ill From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 117 X. Saturday, May 16, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 122 To Lamicelot Langstaflf , Esq 133 VOLUME II. Note 129 XI. Tuesday, Junk 2, 1807.— Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, Cap- tain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slaye-Driver to his High- ness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 131 From my Elbow-Chair. Mine Uncle John 138 Xn. Saturday, Junk 27, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 144 The Stranger at Home; or, A Tour in Broadway. By Jeremy Cockloft, the Younger .150 From my Elbow-Chair 156 From the MiU of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 157 Xin. Friday, August 14, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 161 Plans for Defending our Harbor. By WiUiam Wizard, Esq 164 From my Elbow Chair. A Retrospect; or, " What you Will " 169 To Readers and Correspondents ^. 177 - XrV. Saturday, September 16, 1807.— Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the :' Bashaw of Tripoli 179 Cockloft Hall. By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 186 Theatrical Intelligence. By William Wizard, Esq 193 XrV. Thursday, October 1, 1807.— Sketches from Nature. By Anthony Ever- green, Gent 197 ... On Greatness. By Laimcelot Langstaflf, Esq 202 ^S^. Thursday, October 15, 1807.— Style at Ballston. By William Wizard, Esq. 209 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Princi- pal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of TripoU 214 XVn. Wednesday, November 11, 1807.— Autumnal Reflections. By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 221 By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 285 Chap. CIX.— Of the Chronicles of the Renowned and Ancient City of Gotham. 228 XVIII. Tuesday, November 24, 1807.— The Little Man in Black. By Laimcelot Langstaff, Esq 234 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 240 XIX. Thubsday, December 31, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 246 Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Klian to Muley Helim al Raggi, sumamed the Agreeable itagamuflBn, chief Moimte-bank and BuflCa- dancer to his Highness 247 By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 254 Tea: A Poem 259 XX. Monday, January 25, 1808.— From my Elbow Chair 262 TotheLadies. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 269 Farewell 274 SALMAGUNDI VOLUME FIRST. NO. 1 -SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, ISOT. As every body knows, or ought to know, what a Salmagundi is, we shall spare ourselves the trouble of an explanation— be- sides, we despise trouble as we do every thing that is low and mean ; and hold the man who would incur it unnecessarily, as an object worthy our highest pity and contempt. Neither will we puzzle om* heads to give an account of ourselves, for two reasons; first, because it is nobody's business; secondly, be- cause if it were, we do not hold ourselves bound to attend to any body's business but our own ; and even that we take the liberty of neglecting when it suits our inclination. To these we might add a third, that very few men can give a tolerable account of themselves, let them try ever so hard ; but this rea- son, we candidly avow, would not hold good with ourselves. There are, however, two or three pieces of information which we bestow gratis on the public, chiefly because it suits our owr pleasure and convenience that they should be known, and partly because we do not wish that there should be any ill will between us at the commencement of our acquaintance. Our intention is simply to instruct the young, reform the old, correct the town, and castigate the age; this is an arduous task, and, therefore, we undertake it with confidence. We in- tend for this purpose to present a striking picture of the town ; and as every body is anxious to see his own phiz on canvas, however stupid or ugly it may be, we have no doubt but the whole town will flock to our exhibition. Our picture will necessarily include a vast variety of figures ; and should any gentleman or lady be displeased with the inveterate truth of 6 SALMAOUNDI. ttieir likenesses, they may ease their spleen by lau^iing at those of their neighbours — this being what we understand by POETICAL JUSTICE, Like all true and able editors, we consider ourselves infaUi- ble, and, therefore, with the customary diffidence of our breth- ren of the quill, we shall take the hberty of interfering in all matters either of a public or private nature. We are critics, amateurs, dilettanti, and cognoscenti; and as we know "by the pricking of our thumbs," that every opinion which we may advance in either of those characters will be correct, we are determined, though it may be questioned, contradicted, or even controverted, yet it shall never be revoked. We beg the public particularly to understand that we sohcit no patronage. We are determined, on the contrary^ that the. patronage shall be entirely on our side. We have nothing to do with the pecuniary concerns of the paper; its success will yield us neither pride nor profit— nor will its failure occasion to us either loss or mortification. We advise the pubHc, there- fore, to piu'chase our numbers merely for their own sakes : — if they do not, let them settle the affair with their consciences and posterity. To conclude, we invite all editors of newspapers and literary journals to praise us heartily in advance, as we assure them that we intend to deserve their praises. To our next-door neighbour " Town," we hold out a hand of amity, declaring to him that, after ours, his paper will stand the best chance for immortality. We proffer an exchange of civilities; he shall furnish us with notices of epic poems and tobacco : — and we in return will enrich him with original speculations on all manner of subjects; together with "the rummaging of my grandfath- er's mahogany chest of drawers," "the life and amours of mine uncle John," "anecdotes of the Cockloft family," and learned quotations from that unheard-of writer of folios, lAnkum Fidelius. PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. This work will be published and sold by D. Longworth. It will be printed on hot prest vellum paper, as that is held in highest estimation for buckling up young ladies' hair— a pur- pose to which similar works are usually appropriated ; it wiU SALMAGUNDI. 7 be a small, neat duodecimo size, so that when enough niunbers are written, it may form a volume sufficiently portable to be carried in old ladies' pockets and young ladies' work-bags. As the above work will not come out at stated periods, notice will be given when another number will be pubhshed. The price will depend on the size of the number, and must be paid on dehvery. The publisher professes the same sublime con- tempt for money as his authors. The hberal patronage be- stowed by his discerning fellow-citizens on various works of taste which he has pubhshed, has left him no inclination to ask for further favours at their hands ; and be pubHshes this work in the mere hope of requiting their boimty.* FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANG- STAFF, ESQ. We were a considerable time in deciding whether we should be at the pains of introducing ourselves to the . pubHc. As we care for nobody, and as we are not yet at the bar, we do not feel bound to hold up our hands a»d answer to our names. Willing, however, to gain at once that frank, confidential footing, which we are certain of ultimately possessing in this, doubtless, "best of all possible cities;" and, anxious to spare its worthy inhabitants the trouble of making a thousand wise conjectures, not one of which would be worth a "tobacco- stopper," we have thought it in some degree a necessary exer- tion of charitable condescension to furnish them with a sMght clue to the truth. Before we proceed further, however, we advise every body, man, woman, and child, that can read, or get any friend to read for them, to purchase this paper: — not that we write for money ; — for, in common with all philosophical wiseacres, from Solomon downwards, we hold it in supreme contempt. The public are welcome to buy this work, or not, just as they choose. If it be purchased freely, so much the better for the public— and the publisher:— we gain not a stiver. If it be not "* It was not originally tho intention of the authors to insert the above address in the work; but, unwilling that a morceau so precious should be lost to posterity, they have been induced to alter their minds. This will account for any repetition of idea that may appear in the introductory essay. 8 SALMAGUNDI. purchased we give fair warning— we shall burn all our essays,' critiques, and epigrams, in one promiscuous blaze; and, like the books of the sybils, and the Alexandrian library, they will be lost for ever to posterity. For the sake, therefore, of our publisher, for the sake of the public, and for the sake of the public's children, to the nineteenth generation, we advise them to purchase our paper. We beg the respectable old matrons of this city, not to be alarmed at the appearance we make ; we are none of those outlandish geniuses who swarm in New- York, who live by their wits, or rather by the little wit of their neighbours ; and who spoil the genuine honest American tastes of their daughters, with French slops and fricasseed sentiment. We have said we do not write for money ; — neither do we write for fame :— we know too well the variably nature of pub- lic opinion to build our hopes upon it — we care not what the pubhc think of us ; and we suspect, before we reach the tenth number, they will not know what to think of us. In two words— we write for no other earthly purpose but to please ourselves— and this we shall be sure of doing; for we are all three of us determined beforehand to be pleased with what we write. If, in the course of this work, we edify and instruct and amuse the public, so much the better for the pubHc : — ^but we frankly acknowledge that so soon as we get tired of read- ing our own works, we shall discontinue them without the least remorse; whatever the public niay think of it. — ^While we continue to go on, we will go on merrily : — ^if we moralize, it shall be but seldom; and, on all occasions, we shall be more solicitous to make our readers laugh than cry; for we are laughing philosophers, and clearly of opinion, that wisdom, true wisdom, is a plump, joUy dame, who sits in her arm-^ chair, laughs right merrily at the farce of life — and takes the world as it goes. We intend particularly to notice the conduct of the fashion^ able world : nor in this shall we be governed by that carping spirit with which narrow-minded book-worm cynics squint at the httle extravagances of the ton ; but with that liberal tolera- tion which actuates every man of fashion. While we keep more than a Cerberus watch over the guardian rules of female delicacy and decorum — we shall not discourage any little sprighthness of demeanour, or innocent vivacity of character. Before we advance one line further we must let it be under- . ; tood, as our firm opinion, void of aU prejudice or partiality, SALMAGUNDI. 9 that the ladies of New-York are the fairest, the finest, the most accomphshed, the most bewitching, the most ineffable beings, that walk, creep, crawl, swim, fly, float, or vegetate in any or all of the four elements ; and that they only want to be cured of certain whims, eccentricities, and unseemly conceits, by our superintending cares, to render them absolutely per- fect. They will, therefore, receive a large portion of those at- tentions directed to the fashionable world ; — nor will the gentle- men, who doze away their time in the circles of the haiit-ton, escape our currying. We mean those stupid fellows who sit stock still upon their chairs, without saying a word, and then complain how damned stupid it*was'at Miss 's party. This department will be under the peculiar direction and control of Anthony Evergreen, gent., to whom aU communi- cations on this subject are to be addressed. This gentleman, from his long experience in the routine of balls, tea-parties, and assemblies, is eminently qualified for the task he has undertaken. He is a kind of patriarch in the fashionable world; and has seen generation after generation pass away into the silent tomb of matrimony while he remains unchange- ably the same. He can recount the amours and courtships of the fathers, mothers, uncles and aunts, and even the gran- dames, of all the belles of the present day; provided their pedigrees extend so far back without being lost in obscurity. As, however, treating of pedigrees is rather an ungrateful task in this city, and as we mean to be perfectly good-natured, he has promised to be cautious in this particular. He recollects perfectly the time when young ladies used to go sleigh-riding at night, without their mammas or grandmammas ; in short, without being matronized at all: and can relate a thousand pleasant stories about Kissing-bridge. He likewise remembers the time when ladies paid tea- visits at three in the afternoon, and returned before dark to see that the house was shut up and the servants on duty. He has often played cricket in the orchard in the rear of old Vauxhall, and remembers when the BuU's-head was quite out of town. Though he has slowly and gradually given into modern fashions, and still flourishes in the beau-monde, yet he seems a little prejudiced in favor of the dress and manners of the old school ; and his chief commenda- tion of a new mode is ' ' that it is the same good old fashion we had before the war." It has cost us much trouble to make him confess that a cotillion is superior to a minuet, or an un- adorned crop to a pigtail and powder. Custom and fashion 10 SALMAGUNDI. have, however, had more effect on him than all our lectures ;* and he tempers, so happily, the grave and ceremonious gallan- try of the old school with the " hail fellow" familiarity of the new, that, we trust, on a httle acquaintance, and making allowance for his old-fashioned prejudices, he will become a very considerable favourite with our readers; — if not, the worse for themselves; as they will have to endure his com- pany. In the territory of criticism, William Wizard, Esq., has undertaken to preside ; and though we may all dabble in it a little by turns, yet we have willingly ceded to him all discre- tionary powers in this respect, though Will has not had the advantage of an education at Oxford or Cambridge, or even at Edinburgh, or Aberdeen, and though he is but little versed in Hebrew, yet we have no doubt he will be found fully competent to the undertaking. He has improved his taste by a long resi- dence abroad, particularly at Canton, Calcutta, and the gay and pohshed court of Hayti. He has also had an opportunity 6i seeing the best singing-girls and tragedians of China, is a great connoisseur in mandarine dresses, and j)orcelain, and particularly values himself on his intimate knowledge of the buffalo, and war dances of the northern Indians. He is like- wise promised the assistance of a gentleman, lately from London, who was bom and bred in that centre of science and bongout, the vicinity of Fleetmarket, where he has been edified, man and boy, these six-and-twenty years, with the harmonious jingle of Bow-beUs. His taste, therefore, has attained to such an exquisite pitch of refinement that there are few exhibitions of any kind which do not put him in a fever. He has assured Will, that if Mr. Cooper emphasises "and" instead of "&wf' — or Mrs. Oldmixon pins her kerchief a hair's breadth awry — or Mrs. Darley offers to dare to look less than the "daughter of a senator of Venice"— the standard of a senator's daughter being exactly six feet— they shall all hear of it in good time. We have, however, advised WiU Wizard to keep his friend in check, lest by opening the 'eyes of the public to the wretchedness of the actors by whom they have hitherto been entertained, he might cut off one source of amusement from our fellow-citizens. We hereby give notice, that we have taken the whole corps, from the manager in his mantle of gorgeous copper-lace, to honest John in his green coat and black breeches, under our wing — and wo be unto him who injures a hair of their heads. As we have no design against the patience of our fellow-citizens, ^ SALMAGUNDI. H we shall not dose them with copious draughts of theatrical criticism; we well know that they have already been well physicked with them of late ; our theatrics shall take up but a small part of our paper ; nor shall they be altogether confined to the stage, but extend from time to time, to those incorrigible offenders against the peace of society, the stage-critics, who not unfrequently create the fault they find, in order to yield an opening for their witticisms — censure an actor for a gesture he never made, or an emphasis he never gave ; and, in their at- tempt to show off neiv readings, make the sweet swan of Avon cackle hke a goose. If any one should feel himself offended by our remarks, let him attack us in return — we shall not wince from the combat. If his passes be successful, we will be the first to cry out, a hit ! a hit ! and we doubt not we shall fre- quently lay ourselves open to the weapons of our assailants. But let them have a care how they run a- tilting with us— they have to deal with stubborn foes, who can bear a world of pum- mehng ; we will be relentless in our vengeance, and wiU fight "tiU from our bones the flesh be hackt." What other subjects we shall include in the range of our ob- servations, we have not determined, or rather we shall not trouble ourselves to detail. The public have already more in- formation concerning us, than we intended to impart. We owe them no favours, neither do we ask any. We again advise them, for their own sakes, to read our papers when they come out. We recommend to all mothers to purchase them for their daughters, who will be taught the true line of propriety, and the most advisable method of managing their beaux. We ad- vise all daughters to purchase them for the sake of their mothers, who shall be initiated into the arcana of the bon ton, and cured of aU those rusty old notions which they acquired during the last century : parents shall be taught how to govern their children, girls how to get husbands, and old maids how to do without them. As we do not measure our wits by the yard or the bushel, and as they do not flow periodically nor constantly, we shaU not restrict our paper as to size or the time of its appearance. It will be pubKshed whenever we have sufficient matter to con- stitute a number, and the size of the number shall depend on the stock in hand. This will best suit our neghgent habits, and leave us that full liberty and independence which is the joy and pride of our souls. As we have before hinted, that we do not concern ourselves about the pecuniar}^ matters of our 12 SALMAGUNDI. paper, we leave its price to be regulated by our publisher, only reconunending him for his own interest, and the honour of his authors, not to sell their invaluable productions too cheap. Is there any one who wishes to know more about us?— let him read Salmagundi, and grow wise apace. Thus much we will say — ^there are three of us, "Bardolph, Peto, and I," all townsmen good and true ; — many a time and oft have we three amused the town without its knowing to whom it was indebted ; and many a time have we seen the midnight lamp twinkle faintly on our studious phizes, and heard the morning saluta- tion of "past three o'clock," before we sought our pillows. The result of these midnight studies is now offered to the public ; and Uttle as we care for the opinion of this exceedingly stupid world, we shall take care, as far as Hes in our careless natures, to fulfil the promises made in this introduction ; if we do not, we shall have so many examples to justify us, that we feel little solicitude on that account. THEATRICS. CONTAINING THE QUINTESSENCE OF MODERN CRITICISM. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. Macbeth was performed to a very crowded house, and much to our satisfaction. As, however, our neighbor Town has been very voluminous already in his criticisms on this play, we shall make but few remarks. Having never seen Kemble in this character, we are absolutely at a loss to say whether Mr, Cooper performed it well or not. We think, however, there was an error in his costume^ as the learned Linkum Fidelius is of opinion, that in the time of Macbeth the Scots did not wear sandals, but wooden shoes. Macbeth also was noted for wear- ing his jacket open, that he might play the Scotch fiddle more conveniently ;— that being an hereditary accomphshment in the Glamis family. We have seen this character performed in China by the cele- brated Chow-Chow, the Roscius of that great empire, who in the dagger scene always electrified the audience by blowing his nose like a trumpet. Chow-Chow, in comphance with the SALMAGUNDI. 13 Opinion of the sage Linknm Fidelius, performed Macbeth in wooden shoes; this gave him an opportunity of producing great effect, for on first seeing the "air-drawn dagger," he always cut a prodigious high caper, and kicked his shoes into the pit at the heads of the critics; whereupon the audience were marvellously delighted, flourished their hands, and stroked their whiskers three times, and the matter was care- fully recorded in the next number of a paper called the flim flam. (English— town.) We were much pleased with Mrs. Villiers in Lady Mac- beth ; but we think she would have given a greater effect to the night-scene, if, instead of holding the candle in her hand or setting it down on the table, which is sagaciously censured by neighbour To\vn, she had stuck it in her night-cap. This would have been extremely picturesque, and would have marked more strongly the derangement of her mindii^i (jih l^^ij Mrs. ViUiers, however, is not by any means large enough for the character ; Lady Macbeth having been, in our opinion, a woman of extraordinary size, and of the race of the giants, notwithstanding what she says of her "little hand"— which being said in her sleep, passes for nothing. We should be happy to see this character in the hands of the lady who played Gliimdalca, queen of the giants, in Tom Thumb ; she is exactly of imperial dimensions; and, j^rovided she is well shaved, of a most interesting physiognomy ; as she appears like- wise to be a lady of some nerve, I dare engage she w;ill read a letter about witches vanishing in air, and such common occur- rences, without being unnaturally surprised, to the annoyance of honest "Town." We are happy to observe that Mr. Cooper profits by the in- structions of friend Town, and does not dip the daggers ia blood so deep as formerly by a matter of an inch or two. This was a violent outrage upon our immortal bard. We differ with Mr. Town in his reading of the words, "this is a sorry sight. ^' We are of opinion the force of the sentence siiould be thrown on the word sight, because Macbeth, having been shortly before most confoundedly humbugged with an aerial dagger, was in doubt whether the daggers actually in his hands were real, or whether they were not mere shadows, or as the old English may have termed it, syghtes ; (this, at any rate, will establish our skill in new readings.) Though we differ in this respect from our neighbour Town, yet we heart- ily agree with him in censuring Mr. Cooper for omitting that 14 SALMAOUNDL passage so remarkable for ''beauty of imagery," &c., begin-, ning with "and pity, like a naked, new-born babe," &c. It is one of those passages of Shakspeare which should always be retained, for the purpose of showing how sometimes that great poet could talk like a buzzard ; or, to speak more plainly, like the famous mad poet Nat Lee. As it is the first duty of a friend to advise — and as we pro- fess and do actually feel a friendship for honest ''Town"— we warn him, never in his criticisms to meddle with a lady's "petticoats," or to quote Nic Bottom. In the first instance he may " catch a tartar;" and in the second, the ass's head may rise up in judgment against him ; and when it is once afloat there is no knowing where some unlucky hand may place it. We would not, for aU the money in our pockets, see Town flourishing his critical quill under the auspices of an ass's head, like the great Franklin in his Monterio Cap, NEW-YOEK ASSEMBLY. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. The assemblies this year have gained a great accession of beauty. Several brilliant stars have arisen from the east and from the north to brighten the firmament of fashion ; among the number I have discovered another planet, which rivals even Yenus in lustre, and I claim equal honour with Herschel for my discovery. I shall take some future opportunity to describe this planet, and the nimierous satellites which revolve around it. At the last assembly the company began to make some show about eight, but the most fashionable delayed their appearance until about nine— nine being the number of the muses, and therefore the best possible hour for beginning to exhibit the graces. (This is meant for a pretty play upon words, and I assure my readers that I think it very tolerable.) Poor Will Honeycomb, whose memory I hold in special consideration, even with his half century of experience, would have been puzzled to point out the humours of a lady by her T>revailing colours; for the "rival queens" of fashion, Mrs. Toole and Madame Bouchard^ appeared to have exhausted SALMAGUNDI. 15 their wonderful inventions in the different disposition, varia- tion, and combination of tints and shades. The philosopher who maintained that black was white, and that of course there was no such colour as white, might have given some colour to his theory on this occasion, by the absence of poor forsaken white mushn. I was, however, much pleased to see that red maintains its ground against all other colours, because red is the colour of Mr. Jefferson's ****** Tom Paine's nose, and my sUppers. Let the grumbling smellfxmgi of this world, who cultivate taste among books, cobwebs, and spiders, rail at the extrava- gance of the age ; for my part, I was delighted with the magic of the scene, and as the ladies tripped through the mazes of the dance, sparkling and glowing and dazzhng, I, like the hon- est Chinese, thanked them heartily for the jewels and finery with which they loaded themselves, merely ior the entertain- ment of by-standers, and blessed my stars that I was a bachelor. The gentlemen were considerably numerous, and being as usual equipt in their appropriate black uniforms, constituted a sable regiment which contributed not a Uttle to the briUiant gayety of the baU-room. I must confess I am indebted for this remark to our friend, the cockney, Mr. 'Sbidlikensflash, or ^Sbidlikens, as he is called ^r shortness. He is a feUow of infinite verbosity — stands in high favour— with himself— and, like Caleb Quotem, is "up to every thing." I remember when a comfortable, plumb-looking citizen led into the room a fair damsel, who looked for all the world like the personification of a rainbow: 'Sbidlikens observed that it reminded him of -a fable, which he had read somewhere, of the marriage of an honest, painstaking snail ; who had once walked six feet in an hour for a wager, to a butterfly whom he used to gallant by the elbow, with the aid of much puffing and exertion. On being called upon to tell where he had come across this story, 'Sbidlikens absolutely refused to answer. It would but be repeating an old story to say, that the ladies of New- York dance well ; — and well may they, since they learn it scientifically, and begin their lessons before they have quit their swaddHng clothes. The immortal Duport has usurped despotic sway over all the female heads £ind heels in this city; ^hornbooks, primers, and pianos are neglected to attend to his positions ; and poor Chilton, with his pots and kettles and chemical crockery, fiinds him a more potent eneniy than the 16 SALMAGUNDI. whole collective force of the *' North River Society." 'Sbid: likens insists that this dancing mania will inevitably continue as long as a dancing-master will charge the fashionable price of five-and-twenty dollars a quarter and all the other accom- pHshments are so vulgar as to be attainable at "half the money;"— but I put no faith in 'Sbidlikens' candour in this particular. Among his infinitude of endowments he is but a poor proficient in dancing; and though he often flounders through a cotiUion, yet he never cut a pigeon- wing in his life. In my mind there's no position more positive and unexcep- tionable than that most Frenchmen, dead or ahve, are born dancers. I came pounce upon this discovery at the assembly, and I immediately noted it down in my register of indisputable facts : — ^the pubUc shall know all about it. As I never dance cotillions, holding them to be monstrous distorters of the human frame, and tantamount in their operations to being broken and dislocated on the wheel, I generally take occasion, while they are going on, to make my remarks on the company. In the course of these observations I was struck with the ener- gy and eloquence of sundry Hmbs, which seemed to be floiu'ish- ing about without appertaining to any body. After much in- vestigation and difficulty, I at length traced them to their re- spective owners, whom I found to be all Frenchmen to a man. Art may have meddled somewhat in these affairs, but nature certainly did more. I have since been considerably eni/ployed in calculations on this subject ; and by the most accurate com- putation I have determined that a Frenchman passes at least three-fifths of his time between the heavens and the earth, and partakes eminently of the nature of a gossamer or soap-bubble. One of these jack-o'-lantern heroes, in taking a figure which neither Euchd or Pythagoras himself could demonstrate, unfor- tunately wound himself —I mean his feet, his better part— into a lady's cobweb muslin robe ; but perceiving it at the instant, he set himself a spinning the other way, like a top, unravelled his step without omitting one angle or curve, and extricated him- self without breaking a thread of the lady's dress! he then sprung up, Hke a sturgeon, crossed his feet four times, and fin- ished this wonderful evolution by quivering his left leg, as a cat does her paw when she has accidentally dipped it in water. No man "of woman bom," who was not a Frenchman or a mountebank, could have done the like. Among the new faces, I remarked a blooming nymph, who has brought a fresh supply of roses from the country to adorn SALMAGUNDI. 17 the wreath of beauty, where Ulies too much predominate. As I wish well to every sweet face under heaven, I sincerely hope her roses may survive the frosts and dissipations of winter, and lose nothing by a comparison with the loveliest offerings of the spring. 'Sbidlikens, to whom I made similar remarks, assured me that they were very just, and very prettily exprest ; and that the lady in question was a prodigious fine piece of flesh and blood. Now could I find it in my heart to baste these cockneys like their own roast-beef — they can make no distinc- tion between a fine woman and a fine horse. I would praise the sylph-like grace with which another yoimg lady acquitted herself in the dance, but that she excels in far more valuable accomplishments. Who praises the rose for its beauty, even though it is beautiful. The company retired at the customary hour to the supper- room, where the tables were laid out with their usual splen- dour and profusion. My friend, 'Sbidhkens, with the native forethought of a cockney, had carefully stowed his pocket with cheese and crackers, that he might not be tempted again to venture his hmbs in the crowd of hungry fair ones who throng the supper-room door ; his precaution was unnecessary, for the company entered the room with surprising order and decorum. No gowns were torn — no ladies fainted— no noses bled — nor was there any need of the interference of either managers or peace oflScers. 18 SALMAGUNDI. NO. II.-WEDNESDAY, FEB^Y 4 1807. FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANG- STAFF, ESQ. In the conduct of an epic poem, it has been the custom, from time immemorial, for the poet occasionally to introduce his reader to an intimate acquaintanee with the heroes of his story, by conducting him into their tents, and giving him an oppor- tunity of observing them in their night-gown and shppers. However I despise the servile genius that would descend to fol- low a precedent, though furnished by Homer himself, and con- sider him as on a par with the cart that follows at the heels of the horse, without ever taking the lead, yet at the present mo- ment my whim is opposed to my opinion ; and whenever this is the case, my opinion generally surrenders at discretion. I am determined, therefore, to give the town a peep into our divan ; and I shall repeat it as often as I please, to show that I intend to be sociable. The other night WiU Wizard and Evergreen called upon me, to pass away a few hours in social chat and hold a kind of council of war. To give a zest to our evening I uncorked a bottle of London particular, which has grown old with myself, and which never fails to excite a smile in the countenances of my old cronies, to whom alone it is devoted. After some little time the conversation turned on the effect produced by our first number ; every one had his budget of information, and I assure my readers that we laughed most unceremoniously at their expense ; they will excuse us for our merriment — 'tis a way we've got. Evergreen, who is equally a favourite and companion of young and old, was particularly satisfactory in his details ; and it was highly amusing to hear how different characters were tickled with different passages. The old folks were delighted to find there was a bias in our junto towards SALMAGUNDI. 19 the "good old times;" and he particularly .noticed a worthy old gentleman of his acquaintance, who had been somewhat a beau in his day, whose eyes brightened at the bare mention of Kissing-bridge. It recalled to his recollection several of his youthful exploits, at that celebrated pass, on which he seemed to dwell with gi-eat pleasure and seL^complacency ;— he hoped, he said, that the bridge might be preserved for the benefit ©f posterity, and as a monument of the gallantry of their grand- fathers ; and even hinted at the expediency of erecting a toll- gate, to coUect the forfeits of the ladies. But the most flatter- ing testimony of approbation, which our work has received, was from an old lady, who never laughed but once in her life, and that was at the conclusion of the last war. She was de- tected by friend Anthony in the very fact of laughing most obstreperously at the description of the little dancing French- man. Now it glads my very heart to find our effusions have such a pleasing effect. I venerate the aged, and joy whenever it is in my power to scatter a few flowers in their path. The young people were particularly interested in the account of the assembly. There was some difference of opinion re- specting the new planet, and the blooming nymph from the country ; but as to the comphment paid to the fascinating little sylph who danced so gracefuUy — every lady modestly took that to herself. Evergreen mentioned also that the young ladies were ex- tremely anxious to learn the true mode of managing their beaux; and Miss Diana Wear well, who is as chaste as an icicle, has seen a few superfluous winters pass over her head, and boasts of having slain her thousands, wished to know how old maids were to do without husbands; — not that she was very curious about the matter, she " only asked for informa- tion." Several ladies expressed their earnest desire that we would not spare those wooden gentlemen who perform the parts of mutes, or stalking horses, in their drawing-rooms; and their mothers were equally anxious that we would show no quarter to those lads of spirit, who now and then cut their bottles to enliven a tea-party with the humours of the dinner- table. Will Wizard was not a little chagrined at having been mis- taken for a gentleman, " who is no more like me," said Will, "than I Hke Hercules." — "I was weU assured," continued WiU, "that as our characters were drawn from nature, the originals would be found in every society. And so it has hap- 20 , SALMAGUNDI. pened— every little circle has its 'Sbidlikens ; and the cockney, intended merely as the representative of his species, has dwindled into an insignificant individual, who having recog- nised his own likeness, has f ophshly appropriated to himself a picture for which he never sat. Such, too, has been the case with Ding-dong, who has kindly undertaken to be my repre- sentative ;— not that I care much about the matter, for it must be acknowledged that the animal is a good animal enough ; — and what is more, a fashionable animal— and this is saying more than to call him a conjurer. But, I am much mistaken if he can claim any aflS.nity to the Wizard family. — Surely every body knows Ding-dong, the gentle Ding-dong, who per- vades all space, who is here and there and every where ; no tea-party can be complete without Ding-dong— and his appear- ance is sure to occasion a smile. Ding-dong has been the occasion of much wit in his day; I have even seen many whipsters attempt to be duU at his expense, who were as much inferior to him as the gad-fly is to the ox that he buzzes about. Does any witling want to distress the company with a misera- ble pun? nobody's name presents sooner than Ding-dong's; and it has been played upon with equal skill and equal enter- tainment to the by-standers as Trinity-bells. Ding-dong is profoundly devoted to the ladies, and highly entitled to their regard ; for I know no man who makes a better bow, or talks less to the purpose than Ding-dong. Ding-dong has acquired a prodigious fund of knowledge by reading Dilworth when a boy; and the other day, on being asked who was the author of Macbeth, answered, without the least hesitation— Shak- speare ! Ding-dong has a quotation for every day of the year, and every hour of the day, and every minute of the hour; 'but he often commits pettylarcenies on the poets— plucks the gray hairs of old Chaucer's head, and claps them on the cliin of Pope; and filches Johnson's wig, to cover the bald pate of Homer;— but his blunders pass undetected by one-half of his hearers. Ding-dong, it is true, though he has long wrangled at our bar, cannot boast much of his legal knowledge, nor does his forensic eloquence entitle him to rank with a Cicero or a Demosthenes ; but bating his professional deficiencies, he is a man of most delectable discourse, and can hold forth for an hour upon the colour of a riband or the construction of a work- bag. Ding-dong is now in his fortieth year, or perhaps a little iriore— rivals all the little beaux in the town, in his attentions jbp the ladies— is in a state of rapid improvement; and there is BALMAOUNDI. 21 no doubt but that by the time he arrives at years of discretion, he will be a very accomphshed, agreeable young fellow." — I advise all clever, good-for-nothing, "learned and authentic gentlemen," to take care how they wear this cap, however well it fits ; and to bear in mind, that our characters are not individuals, but species: if, after this warning, any person chooses to represent Mr. Ding-dong, the sin is at his own door; we wash our hands of it. We all sympathized with Wizard, that he should be mis- taken for a person so very different ; and I hereby assure my readers, that William Wizard is nO other person in the whole world but William Wizard ; so I beg I may hear no more con- jectm'es on the subject. Will is, in fact, a wiseacre by inherit- ance. The Wizard family has long been celebrated for know- ing more than their neighbours, particularly concerning their neighbours' affairs. They were anciently called Josselin ; but Will's great uncle, by the father's side, having been accident- ally burnt for a witch in Connecticut, in consequence of blow- ing up his own house in a philosophical experiment, the family, in order to perpetuate the recollection of this memora- ble circumstance, assumed the name and arms of Wizard ; and have borne them ever since. In the course of my customary morning's walk, I stopped in a book-store, which is noted for being the fav6urite haunt of a number ofhterati, some of whom rank high in the opinion of the world, and others rsank equally high in their own. Here I f oimd a knot of queer fellows listening to one of their com- pany who was reading our paper; I, particularly noticed Mr. ICHABOD Fungus among the number. Fungus is one of those fidgeting, meddhng quidnuncs, with which this unhappy city is pestered: one '^ of your "Q in a corner fellows, " who speaks volumes with a wink ; — conveys most portentous Information, by laying his finger beside his nose, — and is always smelling a rat in the most trifling occur- rence. He listened to our work with the most frigid gravity — every now and then gave a mysterious shrug— a humph— or. a screw of the mouth ; and on being asked his opinion at the conclusion, said, he did not know what to think of it;— he hoped it did not mean any thing against the government— that no lurking treason was couched in all this talk. These were dangerous times— times of plot and conspiracy; he did not at all like those stars after Mr. Jefferson's name, they had an air of concealment. Dick Paddle, who was one of the group, 22 SALMAGUNDI. undertook our cause. Dick is known to the world, as being a most knowing genius, who can see as far as any body — into a millstone; maintains, in the teeth of all argument, that a spade is a spade ; and will labour a good half hour by St. Paul's clock, to establish a self-evident fact. Dick assm'ed old Fung-US, that those stars merely stood for Mr. Jefferson's red what-d^ye-call-ems ; and that so far from a conspiracy against their peace and prosperity, the author!, whom he knew very well, were only expressing their high respect for them. The old man shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, gave a mysteri- ous Lord Burleigh nod, said he hoped it might be so ; but he was by no means satisfied with this attack upon the Presi- dent's breeches, as "thereby hangs a tale." MR. WILSON'S CONCERT. ^Y ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. In my register of indisputable facts I have noted it conspicu- ously that all modern music is but the mere dregs and drain- ing of the ancient, and that all the spirit and vigour of har- mony has entirely evaporated in the lapse of ages. Oh ! for the chant of the Naiades, and Dryades, the shell of the Tritons, and the sweet warbhngs of the Mermaids of ancient days! where now shall we seek the Amphion, who built walls with a turn of his hurdy-gurdy, the Orpheus who made stones to whistle about his ears, and trees hop in. a country dance, by the mere quavering of his fiddle-stick ! ah ! had I the power of the former how soon would I build up the new City-Hall, and save the cash and credit of the Corporation ; and how much sooner would I build myself a snug house in Broadway :— nor would it be the first time a house has been obtained there for a song. In my opinion, the Scotch bag-pipe is the only instru- ment that rivals the ancient lyre ; and I am surprised it should be almost the only one entirely excluded from our concerts. Talking of concerts reminds me of that given a few nights since by Mr. Wilson ; at which I had the misfortune of being present. It was attended by a numerous company, and gave great satisfaction, if I may be allowed to judge from the frequent gapings of the audience ; though I will not risk my SALMAGUNDI. 23 credit as a connoisseur, by saying whether they proceeded from wonder or a violent inchnation to doze. I was delighted to find in the mazes of the crowd, my particular friend Snivers, who had put on his cognoscenti phiz— he being, according to his own account, a profound adept in the science of music. He can tell a crotchet at first sight ; and, like a true Englishman, is delighted with the plum-pud(iing rotundity of a semibref; and, in short, boasts of having iacontuiently climbed up Paff's musical tree, which hangs every day upon the poplar, from the fundamental concord, to the fundamental major discord; and so on from branch to branch, until he reached the very top, where he sung "Eule Britannia," clapped his wings, and then— came down again. Like all true trans-atlantic judges, he suffers most horribly at our musical entertainments, and assures me, that what with the con- founded scraping, and scratching, and grating of our fiddlers, he thinks the sitting out one of our concerts tantamount to the punishment of that unfortunate saint, who was frittered in two with a hand-saw. The concert was given in the tea-room, at the City-Hotel ; an apartment admirably calculated, by its dingy walls, beauti- fully marbled with smoke, to show off the dresses and com- plexions of the ladies; and by the flatness of its ceiling to repress those impertinent reverberations of the music, which, whatever others may foolishly assert, are, as Snivers says, "no better than repetitions of old stories." Mr. Wilson gave me infinite satisfaction by the gentility of his demeanour, and the roguish looks he now and then cast at the ladies, but we fear his excessive modesty threw him into some httle confusion, for he absolutely forgot himself, and in the whole course of his entrances and exits, never once made his bow to the audience. On the whole, however, I think he has a fine voice, sings with great taste, and is a very modest, good-looking little man ; but I beg leave to repeat the ad^ce so often given by the illustrious tenants of the theatrical sky- parlour, to the gentlemen who are charged with the "nice conduct" of chairs and tables — "make a bow, Johnny — Johnny, make a bow !" I cannot, on this occasion, but express my surprise that cer- tain amateurs should be so frequently at concerts, considering what agonies they suffer while a piece of music is playing. I defy any man of common humanity, and who has not the heart of a Choctaw, to contemplate the countenance of one of 24 SALMAGUNDI. these unhappy victims of a fiddle-stick without feeling a senti- ment of compassion. His whole visage is distorted ; he rolls up his eyes, as M'Sycophant says, "Uke a duck in thunder," and the music seems to operate upon him like a fit of the cohc : his very bowels seem to sympathize at every twang of the cat-gut, as if he heard at that moment the wailings of the helpless animal that had been sacrificed to harmony. Nor does the hero of the orchestra seem less affected ; as soon as the signal is given, he seizes his fiddle-stick, makes a most horrible grimace, scowls fiercely upon his music-book, as though he would grin every crotchet and quaver out of counte- nance. I have sometimes particularly noticed a hungry-looking Gaul, who torments a huge bass-viol, and who is, doubtless, the original of the famous " Eaw-head-and-bloody-bones, " so potent in frightening naughty children. The person who played the French-horn was very excellent in his way, but Snivers could not relish his performance, hav- ing sometime since heard a gentleman amateur in Gotham play a solo on his proboscis, in a style infinitely superior;— Snout, the bellows-mender, never turned his wind instrument more musically; nor did the celebrated "knight of the burn- ing lamp," ever yield more exquisite entertainment with his nose; this gentleman had latterly ceased to exhibit this pro- digious accomphshment, having, it was whispered, hired out his snout to a ferryman, who had lost his conch-shell ;— the consequence was that he did not show his nose in company so frequently as before. Sitting late the other evening in. my elbow-chair, indulging in that kind of indolent meditation, wHich I consider the per- fection of human bliss, I was roused from my reverie by the entrance of an old servant in the Cockloft Hvery, who handed me a letter, containing the following address from my cousin and old college chum, Pindar Cockloft. Honest Andrew, as he dehvered it, informed me that his master, who resides a httle way from town, on reading a small pamphlet in a neat yellow cover, rubbed his hands with symptoms of great satisfaction, called for Lis favourite Chinese inkstand, with two sprawling Mandarines for its sup- porters, and wrote the letter which he had the honour to present me. SALMAGUNDI. 26 As I foresee my cousin will one day become a great favourite with the pubUc, and as I know him to be somewhat punctilious as it respects etiquette, I shall take this opportunity to gratify the old gentleman by giving him a proper introduction to the fashionable world. The Cockloft family, to which I have the comfort of being related, has been fruitful in old bachelors and humourists, as will be perceived when I come to treat more of its history. My cousin Pindar is one of its most con- spicuous members— he is now in his fifty-eighth year — is a bachelor, partly through choice, and partly through chance, and an oddity of the first water. Half his life has been em- ployed in writing odes, sonnets, epigrams, and elegies, which he seldom shows to any body but myself after they are written ; and all the old chests, drawers, and chair-bottoms in the house, teem with his productions. In his younger days he figured as a dashing blade iniihe great world ; and no young fellow of the town wore a longer pig-tail, or carried more, buckram in his skirts. From sixteen to thirty he was continually in love, and during that period, to use his own words, he be-scribbled more paper than would serve the theatre for snow-storms a whole season. The even- ing of his thirtieth birthday, as he sat by the fireside, as much in love as ever was man in the world and writing the name of his mistress in the ashes, with an old tongs that had lost one of its legs, he was seized with a whim- wham that he was an old fool to be in love at his time of life. It was ever one of the dockloft characteristics to strike to whim ; and had Pindar stood out on this occasion he would have brought the reputa- tion of his mother in question. From that time he gave up all particular attentions to the ladies ; and though he still loves their company, he has never been known to exceed the bounds of common courtesy in his intercourse with them. He was the life and ornament of our family circle in town, until the epoch of the French revolution, which sent so many unfor- tunate dancing-masters from their country to poHsh and en- lighten our hemisphere. This was a sad time for Pindar, who had taken a genuine Cockloft prejudice against every thing French, ever since he was brought to death's door by ^ ragout: he groaned at Ca Ira, and the Marseilles Hymn had much the same effect upon him that sharpening a knife on a dry whet- stone has upon some people;— it set his teeth chattering. He might in time have been reconciled to these rubs, had not the introduction of French cockades on the hats of our citizens 26 SALMAGUNDI. absolutely thrown him into a fever. The first time he saw tin instance of this kind, he came home with great precipitation, packed up his trunk, his old-fashioned writing-desk, and his Chinese ink-stand, and made a kind of growling retreat to Cockloft-Hall, where he has resided ever since. My cousin Pindar is of a mercurial disposition,— a humour- ist without ill-nature— he is of the true gim-powder temper ;— one flash and all is over. It is true when the wind ig easterly, or the gout gives him a gentle twinge, or he hears of any new successes of the French, he will become a little splenetic ; and heaven help the man, and more particularly the woman, that crosses his humour at that moment ;— she is sure to receive no quarter. These are the most sublime moments of Pindar. I swear to you, dear ladies and gentlemen, I would not lose one of these splenetic bursts for the best wig in my wardrobe; even though it were proved to be the identical wig worn by the sage Linkum Fidelius, when he demonstrated before the whole university of Leyden, that it was possible to make bricks without straw. I have seen the old gentleman blaze forth such a volcanic explosion of Avit, ridicule, and satire, that I was almost tempted to believe him inspired. But these sallies only lasted for a moment, and passed like summer clouds over the benevolent sunshine which ever warmed his heart and lighted up his countenance. ^ Time, though it has dealt roughly with his person, has passed lightly over the graces of his mind, and left him in full possession of all the sensibilities of youth. His eye kindles at the relation of a noble and generous action, his heart melts at the story of distress, and he is still a warm admirer of the fair. Like all old bachelors, however, he looks back with a fond and lingering eye on the period of his boyhood; and would sooner suffer the pangs of matrimony than acknowl- edge that the world, or any thing in it, is half so clever as it was in those good old times that are " gone by." I believe I have already mentioned, that with all his good qualities he is a humourist, and a humourist of the highest order. He has some of the most intolerable whim-whams I e^^r met with in my life, and his oddities are suificient to eke out a hundred tolerable originals. But I will not enlarge on them — enough has been told to excite a desire to know more ; and I am much mistaken, if in the course of half a dozen of our numbers, he don't tickle, plague, please, and perplex the \vhole town, and completely establish his claim to the laure- SALMAGUNDI. 27 ateship he has solicited, and with which we hereby invest him, recommending him and his effusions to pubhc reverence and respect. Launcelot* Langstaff. TO LANCELOT LANGSTAFF, ^Q. ^ Dear Launce, As I find you have taken the quill. To put our gay town, and its fair under drills I offer my hopes for success to your cause. And send you unvarnish'd my mite of applause. Ah, Launce, this poor town has been wof ully f ash'd ; Has long been be-Frenchman'd, be-cockney'd, be-trash'd ; And our ladies be-devil'd, bewilder'd astray, From the rules of there grandames have wander'd away. No longer that modest demeanour we meet, Which whilom the eyes of our fathers did greet ;- No longer be-mobbled, be-ruffled, be-quill'd, Be-powder'd, be-hooded, be-patch'd, and be-frill'd, — No longer our fair ones their grograms display. And stiff in brocade, strut " like castles" away. Oh, how fondly my soul forms departed have traced, When our ladies in stays, and in boddice well laced. When bishop'd, and cushion'd, and hoop'd to the chin. Well callash'd without, and well bolster'd within ; All cased in their buckrams, from crown down to tail, Like O'Brallagan's mistress, were shaped like a pail. Well — peace to those fashions — ^the joy of our eyes— Tempora mutantur,— new follies will rise; Yet, "like joys that are past," they still crowd on the mind, In moments of thought, as the soul looks behind. Sweet days of our boyhood, gone by, my dear Launce, Like the shadows of night, or the forms in a trance ; Yet oft we retrace those bright visions again, Nos mutamur, 'tis true— but those visions remain I -recall with delight, how my bosom would creep. When some dehcate foot from its chamber would peep ; And when I a neat stocking'd ankle could spy, — By the sages of old, I was rapt to the sky ! 28 SALMAGUNDI All then was retiring— was modest— discreet ; The beauties, all shrouded, were left to conceit; To the visions which fancy would form in her eye, Of graces that snug in soft ambush w ould he ; And the heart, like the poets, in thought would pursue The elysium of bhss, which was veil'd from its view. We are old-f ashion'd fellows, our nieces will say : Old-fashion'd, indeed, coz— and swear it they may— For I freely confess that it yields me no pride, To see them all blaze what their mothers would hide: To see them, all shivering, some cold winter's day, So lavish their beauties and graces display, And give to each f opling that offers his hand, Like Moses from Pisgah — a peep at the land. But a truce with complaining— the object in view Is to offer my help in the work you pursue ; And as your effusions and labours subhme. May need, now and then, a few touches of rhyme, I himibly sohcit, as cousin and friend, A quiddity, quirk, or remonstrance to send : Or should you a laureate want in your plan. By the muff of my grandmother, I am your man ! You must know I have got a poetical mill. Which with odd lines, and couplets, and triplits I fill; And a poem I grind, as from rags white and blue The paper-miU yields you a sheet fair and new. I can grind down an ode, or an epic that's long. Into sonnet, acrostic, conundrum, or song: As to dull hudibrastic, so boasted of late. The doggerel discharge of some muddled brain'd pate, I can grind it by wholesale— and give it its point. With billingsgate dish'd up in rhymes out of joint. I have read all the poets— and got them by heart. Can slit them, and twist them, and take them apart; Can cook up an ode out of patches and shreds, To muddle my readers, and bother their heads. Old Homer, and Virgil, and Ovid I scan, Anacreon, and Sappho, who changed to a swan ;— Iambics and sapphics I grind at my wiU, And with ditties of love every noddle can fill. Oh, 'twould do your heart good, Launce, to see my mill grind Old stuff into verses, and poems refin'd ;— SALMAGUNDI. 29 Dan Spencer, Dan Chaucer, those poets of old, Though cover'd with dust, are yet true sterHng gold ; I can grind off their tarnish, and bring them to view, New modell'd, new mill'd, and improved in their hue. But I promise no more — only give me the place. And I'll warrant I'll fill it with credit and grace ; By the hving ! I'll figure and cut you a dash —As bold as Will Wizard, or 'Sbidlikens-flash I Pindar Cockloft. ADVERTISEMENT. Perhaps the most fruitful source of mortification to a merry writer who, for the amusement of himself and the public, employs his leisure in sketching odd characters from imagina- tion, is, that he cannot flourish his pen, but every Jack-pud- ding imagines it is pointed directly at himself:— he cannot, in his gambols, throw a fool's cap among the crowd, but every queer f eUow insists upon puttng it on his own head ; or chalk an outlandish figure, but every outlandish genius is eager to write his own name under it. However we may be mortified, that these men should each individually think himself of suffi- cient consequence to engage our attention, we should not care a rush about it, if they did not get into a passion and com- plain of having been ill-used. It is not in our hearts to hurt the feelings of one single mortal, by holding him up to public ridicule ; and if it were, we lay it down as one but instantly they apply it most unjustifiably to some " dear friend," and then accuse us vociferously of the personahty which originated in their own officious friendship ! Truly it is an ill-natured town, and most earnestly do we hope it may not meet with the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah of old. As, however, it may be thought incumbent upon us to make some apology for these mistakes of the town ; and as our good- nature is truly exemplary, we would certainly answer this expectation were it not that we have an invincible antipathy to making apologies. We have a most profound contempt for any man who cannot give three good reasons for an unreason- able thing; and wiU therefore condescend, as usual, to give the public three special reasons for never apologizing :— first, an apology implies that we are accountable to some body or another for our conduct ; — now as we do not care a fiddle-stick, as authors, for either pubhc opinion or private ill-will, it would be implying a falsehood to apologize: — second, an apology would indicate that w^e had been doing what we ought not to have done. Now, as we never did nor ever intend to do any thing wrong it would be ridiculous to make an apology :— third, we labour under the same incapacity in the art of apologizing that lost Langstaff his mistress; we never yet undertook to 104 SALMAGUNDI. make apology without committing a new offence, and making matters ten times worse than they were before ; and we are, therefore, determined to avoid such predicaments in future. But though we have resolved never to apologize, yet we have no particular objection to explain; and if this is all that's wanted, we will go about it directly : allons, gentleman ! before, however, we enter upon this serious affair, we take this opportunity to express our surprise and indignation at the incredulity of some people.— Have we not, over and over, assured the town that we are three of the best-natured fellows living? And is it not astonishing, that having already given seven convincing proofs of the truth of this assurance, they should still have any doubts on the subject? but as it is one of the impossible things to make a knave believe in honesty, so perhaps it may be another to make this most sarcastic, satiri- cal, and tea-drinking city believe in the existence of good- nature. But to our explanation.- — Gentle reader! for we are convinced that none but gentle or genteel readers can relish our excellent productions, if thou art in expectation of being perfectly satisfied with what we are about to say, thou mayest as well ' ' whistle lillebullero" and skip quite over what follows ; for never wight was more disappointed than thou wilt be most assuredly. — But to the explanation: We care just as much about the public and its wise conjectures, as we do about the man in the moon and his whim- whams, or the criticisms of the lady who sits majestically in her elbow-chair in the lobster ; and who, belying her sex, as we are credibly informed, never says any thing worth listening to. We have launched our bark, and we will steer to our destined port with undeviating perseverance, fearless of being shipwrecked by the way. Good- nature is our steersman, reason our ballast, whim the breeze that wafts us along, and morality, our leading star. SALMAGUJSDl. 105 NO. IX.-SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. It in some measure jumps with my humour to be ''melan- choly and gentleman-like" this stormy night, and I see no reason why I should not indulge myself for once. — Away, then, with joke, with fun, and laughter, for a while; let my soul look back in mournful retrospect, and sadden with the memory of my good aunt Charity — who died of a French- man! Stare not, oh, most dubious reader, at the mention of a complaint so uncommon; grievously hath is afihcted the ancient family of the Cocklofts, who carry their absurd antipathy to the French so far, that they will not- suffer a clove of garlic in the house : and my good old friend Chris- topher was once on the point of abandoning his paternal country mansion of Cockloft-hall, merely because a colony of frogs had settled in a neighbouring swamp. I verily believe he would have carried his whim-wham into effect, had not a fortunate drought obliged the enemy to strike their tents, and, like a troop of wandering Arabs, to march off towards a moister part of the country. My aunt Charity departed this life in the fifty-ninth year of her age, though she never grew older after twenty-five. In her teens she was, according to her own account, a celebrated beauty,— though I never could meet with any body that re- membered when she was handsome; on the contrary. Ever- green's father, who used to gaUant her in his youth, says she was as knotty a little piece of humanity as he ever saw ; and that, if she had been possessed of the least sensibility, she would, Hke poor old Acco, have most certainly run mad at her own figTire and face the first time she contemplated herself in a looking-glass. In the good old times that saw my aunt in 106 SALMAGUNDI. the hey-day of youth, a fine lady was a most formidable animal, and required to be approached with the same awe and devotion that a Tartar feels in the presence of his Grand Lama. If a gentleman offered to take her hand, except to help her into a carriage, or lead her into a drawing-room, such frowns ! such a rustling of brocade and taffeta ! her very paste shoe-buckles sparkled with indignation, and for a moment assumed the brilliancy of diamonds : in those days the person of a belle was sacred ; it was unprof aned by the sacrilegious grasp of a stranger : simple souls !— they had not the waltz among them yet ! My good aunt prided herself on keeping up this buckram dehcacy; and if she happened to be playing at the old-fash- ioned game of forfeits, and was fined a kiss, it was always more trouble to get it than it was worth ; for she made a most gallant defence, and never surrendered until she saw her adversary inclined to give over his attack. Evergreen's father says he remembers once to have been on a sleighing party with her, and when they came to Kissing-bridge, it fell to his lot to levy contributions on Miss Charity Cockloft ; who, after squalling at 2, hideous rate, at length jumped out of the sleigh plump into a snow-bank ; where she stuck fast like an icicle, until he came to her rescue. This latonian feat cost her a rheimiatism, from which she never thoroughly recovered. It is rather singular that my aunt, though a great beauty, and an heiress withal, never got married. The reason she alleged was, that she never met with a lover who resembled Sir Charles Grandison, the hero of her nightly dreams and waking fancy ; but I am privately of opinion that it was owing to her never having had an offer. This much is certain, that for many years previous to her decease, she declined all attentions from the gentlemen, and contented herself with watching over the welfare of her fellow-creatures. She was, indeed, observed to take a considerable lean towards Method- ism, was frequent in her attendance at love feasts, read Whitefield and Wesley, and even went so far as once to travel the distance of five and twenty miles to be present at a camp- meeting. This gave great offence to my cousin Christopher and his good lady, who, as I have already mentioned, are rigidly orthodox; and had not my aunt Charity been of a most pacific disposition, her religious whim-wham would have occasioned many a family altercation. She was, indeed, as good a soul as the Cockloft family ever boasted; a lady of SALMAGUNDI. 107 unbounded loving-kindness, which extended to man, woman, and child ; many of whom she almost killed with good-nature. Was any acquaintance sick ? in vain did the wind whistle and the storm beat; my aunt would waddle through mud and mire, over the whole town, but what she would visit them. She would sit by them for hours together with the most per- severing patience ; and tell a thousand melancholy stories of human misery, to keep up their spirits. The whole catalogue of yerh teas was at her fingers' ends, from formidable worm- wood down to gentle balm; and she would descant by the hour on the healing quahties of hoar-hound, catnip, and penny-royal. — Wo be to the patient that came under the benevolent hand of my aunt Charity; he was sure, willy nilly, to be drenched with a deluge of decoctions; and full many a time has my cousin Christopher borne a twinge of pain in silence through fear of being condemned to suffer the martyrdom of her materia-medica. My good aunt had, more- over, considerable skill in astronomy, for she could tell when the sun rose and set every day in the year ; and no woman in the whole world was able to pronounce, with more certainty, at what precise minute the moon changed. She held the story of the moon's being made of green cheese, as an abominable slander on her favourite planet; and she had made several valuable discoveries in solar eclipses, by means of a bit of burnt glass, which entitled her at least to an honorary admis- sion in the American-philosophical-society. Hutchings im- proved was her favourite book ; and I shrewdly suspect that it was from this valuable work she drew most of her sovereign remedies for colds, coughs, corns, and consumptions. But the truth must be told ; with all her good qualities my aunt Charity was afflicted with one fault, extremely rare among her gentle sex; — it was curiosity. How she came by it, I am at a loss t6 imagine, but it played the very vengeance with her and destroyed the comfort of her life. Having an in- vincible desire to know every body's character, business, and mode of living, she was for »ver prying into the affairs of her neighbours ; and got a great deal of ill v/ill from people towards whom she had the kindest disposition possible.— If any family on the opposite side of the street gave a dinner; my aunt would mount her spectacles, and sit at the window until the company were all housed ; merely that she might know who they were. If she heard a story about any of lier acquain- tance, she would, forthwith, set off full sail and never rest 108 , SALMAGUNDI. until, to use her usual expression, she had got "to the bottom of it;" which meant nothing onore than teUing it to every body she knew. I remember one night my aunt Charity happened to hear a a most precious story about one of her good friends, but un- fortunately too late to give it immediate circulation. It made her absolutely miserable; and she hardly slept a wink all night, for fear her bosom friend, Mrs. Sipkins, should get the start of her in the morning and blow the whole affair. You must know there was always a contest between these two ladies, who should first give currency to the good-natured things said about every body ; and this unfortunate rivalship at length proved fatal to their long and ardent friendship. My aunt got up full two hours that morning before her usual time ; put on her pompadour tafeta gown, and sallied forth to lament the misfortune of her dear friend. Would you believe it! — wherever she went Mrs. Sipkins had anticipated her; and, instead of being listened to with uplifted hands and open- mouthed wonder, my unhappy aunt was obliged to sit down quietly and listen to the whole affair, with numerous addi- tions, alterations, and amendments! — now this was too bad; it would almost have provoked Patience Grizzle or a saint ; — it was too much for my aunt, who kept her bed for three days afterwards, with a cold, as she pretended ; but I have no doubt it was owing to this affair of Mrs. Sipkins, to whom she never would be reconciled. But I pass over the rest of my aunt Charity's life, checquered with the various calamities and misfortunes and mortifications incident to those worthy old gentlewomen who have the do- mestic cares of the whole community upon their minds ; and I hasten to relate the melancholy incident that hurried her out of existence in the full bloom of antiquated virginity. In their frolicksome malice the fates had ordered that a French boarding-house, or Pension Francaise, as it was called, should be estabhshed directly opposite my aunt's residence. Cruel event ! unhappy aunt Charity ! — ^it threw her into that alarming disorder denominated the fidgets; she did nothing but watch at the window day after day, but without becoming one whit the wiser at the end of a fortnight than she was at the beginning; she thought that neighbour Pension had a mon- strous large family, and somehow or other they were all men ! she could not imagine what business neighbour Pension fol- lowed to support so numerous a household; and wondered SALMAGUNDI. 109 whj: there was always such a scraping of fiddles in the par- lour, and such a smell of onions from neighbour ^Pension's kitchen ; in short, neighbour Pension was continually upper- most in her thoughts, and incessantly on the outer edge of her tongue. This was, I believe, the very first time she had ever •failed "to get at the bottom of a thing;" and the disappoint- ment cost her many a sleepless night I warrant you. I have little doubt, however, that my aunt would have ferretted neighbour Pension out, could she have spoken or understood French ; but in those times people in general could make them- selves understood in plain English ; and it was always a stand- ing rule in the Cockloft family, which exists to this day, that not one of the females should learn French. My aunt Charity had lived, at her window, for some time in vain ; when one day, as she was keeping her usual look-out, and suffering all the pangs of unsatisfied curiosity, she beheld a little, meagre, weazel-faced Frenchman, of the most forlorn, diminutive, and pitiful proportions, arrive at neighbour Pen- sion's door. He was dressed in white, with a little pinched-up cocked hat ; he seemed to shake in the wind, and every blast that went over him whistled through his bones and threat^ied instant annihilation. This embodied spiiit-of -famine was fol- lowed by three carts, lumbered with crazy trunks, chests, band-boxes, bidets, medicine - chests, parrots, and monkeys; and at his heels ran a yelping pack of little black-nosed pug dogs. This was the one thing wanting to fill up the measure of my aunt Charity's afflictions ; she could not conceive, for the soul of her, who this mysterious little apparition could be that made so great a display ; what he could possibly do with so much baggage, and particularly with his parrots and mon- keys ; or how so small a carcass could have occasion for so many trunks of clothes. Honest soul ! she had never had a peep into a Frenchman's wardrobe ; that depot of old coats, hats, and breeches, of the growth of every fashion he has fol- lowed in his life. From the time of this fatal arrival, my poor aunt was in a quandary ;— -all her inquiries were fruitless ; no one could ex- pound the history of this mysterious stranger: she never held up her head afterwards, — drooped daily, took to her bed in a fortnight, and in "one little month" I saw her quietly depos- ited in the family vault : — ^being the seventh Cockloft that has died of a whim- wham ! Take warning, my fair country-women ! and you, oh, ye ex- 110 SALMAGUNDI. cellent ladies, whether married or single, who pry into other people's affairs and neglect those of your own household;— who are so busily employed in observing the faults of others that you have no time to correct your own ;— remember the fate of my dear aunt Charity, and eschew the evil spirit of curiosity. ^ FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. I FIND, by perusal of our last number, that Will Wizard and Evergreen, taking advantage of my confinement, have been playing some of their gambols. I suspected these rogues of some mal-practices, in consequence of their queer looks and knowing winks whenever I came do we to dinner ; and of their not showing their faces at old Cockloft's for several days after the appearance of their precious effusions. Whenever these two waggish fellows lay their heads together, there is always sure to be hatched some notable piece of mischief ; which, if it tickles nobody else, is sure to make its authors merry. The public will take notice that, for the purpose of teaching these my associates better manners, and punishing them for their high misdemeanors, I have, by virtue of my authority, sus- pended them from all interference in Salmagundi, until they show a proper degree of repentance ; or I get tired of support- ing the burthen of the work myself. I am sorry for Will, who is already sufficiently mortified in not daring to come to the old house and tell his long stories and smoke his segar ; bu* Evergreen, being an old beau, may solace himself in his dis- gi-ace by trimming up all his old finery and making love to the little girls. At present my right-hand man is cousin Pindar, whom I have taken into high favour. He came home the other night all in a blaze like a sky-rocket— whisked up to his room in a paroxysm of poetic inspiration, nor did we see any thing ol: him until late the next morning, when he bounced upon us at breakfast, " Fire in each eye— and paper in each hand." This is just the way with Pindar, he is like a volcano ; will remain for a long time silent without emitting a single spark, and then, all at once, burst out in a tremendous explosion of rhyme and rhapsody. SALMAGUNDI. HI As the letters of my friend Mustapha seem to excite consid' erable curiosity, I have subjoined another. I do not vouch for the justice of his remarks, or the correctness of his con- chisions; they are full of the blunders and errors in which strangers continually indulge, who pretend to give an account of this country before they well know the geography of the street in which they hve. The copies of my friend's papers being confused and without date, I cannot pretend to give them in systematic order ; — in fact, they seem now and then to treat of matters which have occurred since his departure ; whether these are sly interpolations of that meddlesome wight Will Wizard, or whether honest Mustapha was gifted with the spirit of prophecy or second sight, I neither know — nor, in fact, do I care. The following seems to have been Avritten when the Tripolitan prisoners were so much annoyed by the ragged state of their wardrobe. Mustapha feelingly depicts the embarrassments of his situation, traveller-hke ; makes an easy transition from his breeches to the seat of government, and incontinently abuses the whole administration; hke a sapient traveller I once knew, who damned the French nation in toto— because they eat sugar with green peas. LETTER FEOM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN. CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. Sweet, oh, Asem ! is the memory of distant friends ! like the mellow ray of a departing sun it falls tenderly yet sadly on the heart. Every hour of absence from my native land rolls heavily by, like the sandy wave of the desert ; and the fair shores of my country rise blooming to my imagination, clothed in the soft, illusive charms of distance. I sigh, yet no one lis- tens to the sigh of the captive ; I shed the bitter tear of recol- lection, but no one sympathizes in the tear of the turbaned stranger ! Think not, however, thou brother of my soul, that I complain of the horrors of my situation ; — think not -that my captivity is attended with the labours, the chains, the scourges, the insults, that render slavery, with us, more dreadful than the pangs of hesitating, lingering death. Light, indeed, are 112 SALMAGUNDI. the restraints on the personal freedom of thy kinsman ; birt who can -enter into the afflictions of the mind? — who can de- scribe the agonies of the heart? they are mutable as the clouds of the air— they are countless as the waves that divide me from my native country. I have, of late, my dear Asem, laboured under an inconve- nience singularly unfortunate, and am reduced to a dilemma most ridiculously embarrassing. Why should I hide it from the companion of my thoughts, the partner of my sorrows and my joys? Alas! Asem, thy friend Mustapha, the invincible captain of a ketch, is sadly in want of a pair of breeches ! Thou wilt doubtless smile, oh, most grave Mussulman, 'to hear me indulge in such ardent lamentations about a circumstance so trivial, and a want apparently so easy to be satisfied ; but little canst thou know of tho mortifications attending my necessities, and the astonishing difficulty of supplying them. Honoured by the "smiles and attentions of the beautiful ladies of this city, who have fallen in love with my whiskers and my turban ; courted by the bashaws and the gi^eat men, who delight to have me at their feasts ; the honour of my company eagerly solicited by every fiddler who gives a concert ; think of my chagrin at being obliged to decline the host of invitations that daily overwhelm me, merely for want of a pair of breeches ! Oh, Allah ! Allah ! that thy disciples could come into the world all be-feathered like a bantam, or with a pair of leather breeches like the wild deer of the forest ! Surely, my friend, it is the destiny of man to be for ever subjected to petty evils ; which, however trifling in appearance, prey in silence on his little pittance of enjoyment, and poison those moments of sunshine which might otherwise be consecrated to happiness. The want of a garment, thou wilt say, is easily supplied ; and thou mayest suppose need only be mentioned, to be remedied at once by any tailor of the land : little canst thou conceive the impediments which stand in the way of my comfort ; and still less art thou acquainted with the prodigious great scale on which every thing is transacted in this country. The nation moves most majestically slow and clumsy in the most trivial affairs, like the unwieldy elephant which makes a formidable difficulty of picking up a straw I When I hinted my necessities to the officer who has charge of myself and my companions, I expected to have them forthwith relieved; but he made an amazing long face, told me that we were prisoners of state, that we must, therefore, be clothed at the expense of govern- SALMAGUNDI. 113 ment ; that as no provision had been made by congress for an emergency of the kind, it was impossible to furnish me with a pair of breeches, until all the sages of the nation had been con- vened to talk over the matter and debate upon the expediency of granting my request. Sword of the immortal Khahd, thought I, but this is great !— this is truly subhme 1 All the sages of an immense logocracy assembled together to talk about my breeches! Yain mortal that I am!— I cannot but own I was somewhat reconciled to the delay, which must nec- essarily attend this method of clothing me, by the considera- tion that if they made the affair a national act, my "name must, of course, be embodied in history," and myself and my breeches flourish to immortahty in the annals of this mighty empire ! " But, pray," said I, "how does it happen that a matter so insignificant should be erected into an object of such impor- tance as to employ the representative wisdom of the nation ; and what is,the cause of their talking so much about a trifle?" — "Oh," replied the officer, who acts as our slave-driver, "it all proceeds from economy. , If the government did not spend ten times as much money in debating whether it was proper to supply you with breeches, as the breeches themselves would cost, the people who govern the bashaw and his divan would straightway begin to complain of their liberties being infringed ; the national finances squandered ! not a hostile slang-whanger throughout the logocracy, but wo^ild burst forth hke a barrel of combustion, and ten chances to one but the bashaw and the sages of his divan would all be turned out of office together. My good Mussulman," continued he, "the administration have the good of the people too much at heart to trifle with their pockets ; and they would sooner assemble and talk away ten thousand dollars, than expend fifty silently out of the treasury ; such is the wonderful spirit of economy that pervades every branch of this government." "But," said I, *'how is it possi- ble they can spend money in talking ; surely words cannot be the current coin of this country?" "Truly," cried he, smiling, "your question is pertinent enough, for words indeed often supply the ^lace of cash among us, and many an honest debt is paid in promises : but the fact is, the grand bashaw and the members of congress, or grand-talkers-of-the-nation, either receive a yearly salary or are paid by the day." " By the nine hundred tongues of the great beast in Mahomet's vision, but the murder is out ; — it is no wonder these honest men talk so 114 SALMAGUNDI. much about nothing, when they are paid for talking, like ^y- labourers." " You are mistaken," said my driver, " it is noth- ing but economy !" I remained silent for some minutes, for this inexplicable word economy always discomfits me; and when I flatter my- self 1 have grasped it, it slips through my fingers like a jack- o'-lantern. I have not, nor perhaps ever shall acquire, suffi- cient of the philosophic pohcy of this government to draw a proper distinction between an individual and a nation. If a man was to throw away a pound in order to save a beggarly penny, and boast, at the same time, of his economy, I should think him on a par with the fool in the fable of Alfanji, who, in skinning a flint worth a farthing, spoiled a knife worth fifty times the sum, and thought he had acted wisely. The shrewd fellow would doubtless have valued himself much more highly on his economy, could he have known that his example would one day be followed by the bashaw of America, and the sages of his divan. This economic disposition, my friend, occasions much fight- ing of the spirit, and innumerable contests of the tongue in this talking assembly.— Wouldst thou believe it? they were actually employed for a whole week in a most strenuous and eloquent debate about patching up a hole in the wall of the room appropriated to their meetings! A vast profusion of nervous argument and pompous declamation was expended on the occasion. Some of the oi-atoi's, I am told, being rather wag- gishly inclined, were most stupidly jocular on the occasion ; but their waggery gave great offence ; and was highly reprobated by the more weighty part of the assembly, who hold all wit and humour in abomination, and thought the business in hand much too solemn and serious to be treated Hghtly. It is sup- posed by some that this affair would have occupied a whole winter, as it was a subject upon ./hich several gentlemen spoke who had never been known to open their lips in that place except to say yes and no. These silent members are by way of distinction denominated orator mums, and are highly valued in this country on account of their great talent for silence ;— a qualification extremely rare in a logocracy. Fortunately for the public tranquillity, in the hottest part of the debate, when two rampant Virginians, brim-full of logic and philosophy, were measuring tongues, and syllogistically cudgelling each other out of their unreasonable notions, the president of the divan, a knowing old gentleman, one night SALMAGUNDI. 115 slyly sent a mason with a hod of mortar, who, in the course of a few minutes, closed up the hole and put a final end to the ar- gument. Thus did thiswise old gentleman, by hitting on a most simple expedient, in all probability save his country as much money as would build a gun-boat, or paj^T .-a hireling slang- whanger for a whole volume of words. As it happened, only a few thousand dollars were expended in paying these men, who are denominated, I suppose in derision, legislators. Another instance of their economy I relate with pleasure, for I really begin to feel a regard for these poor barbarians. They talked away the best part of a whole winter before they could determine not to expend a few dollars in purchasing a sword to bestow on an illustrious warrior : yes, Asem, on that very hero who frightened all our poor old women and young children at Derne, and fully proved himself a greater man than the mother that bore him. Thus, my friend, is the whole collective wisdom of this mighty logocracy employed in somni- ferous debates about the most trivial affairs ; hke I have some- times seen a herculean mountebank exerting all his energies in balancing a straw upon liis nose. Their sages behold the minu- test object with th(i microscopic eyes of a pismire ; mole-hills swell into mountains, and a grain of mustard-seed will set the whole ant-hill in a hub-bub. Whether this indicates a capa- cious vision, or a diminutive mind, I leave thee to decide ; for my part, I consider it as another proof of the great scale on which every thing is transacted in this coimtry. I have before told thee that nothing can be done without con- sulting the sages of the nation, who compose the assembly called the congress. This prolific body may not improperly be termed the "mother of inventions;" and a most fruitful mother it is, let me tell thee, though its children are generally abortions. It has lately laboured with what was deemed the conception of a mighty navy.— All the old women and the good wives that assist the bashaw in his emergencies hurried to head-quarters to be busy, Hke midwives, at the dehvery. — AU was anxiety, fidgeting, and consultation ; when, after a deal of groaning and stiniggling, instead of formidable first rates and gallant frigates, out crept a litter of sorry little gun- boats ! These are most pitiful little vessels, partaking vastly of the character of the grand bashaw, who has the credit of begetting them ; being flat, shallow vessels that can only sail before the wind: — must always keep in with the land; — are continually foundering or running ashore; and, in short, are 116 SALMAGUNDI. only fit for smooth water. Though intended for the defence of the maritime cities, yet the cities are obliged to defend them; and they require as much nursing as so many ricketty little bantlings. They are, however, the darling pets of the grand bashaw, being the children of his dotage, and, perhaps from their diminutive size and palpable weakness, are called the "infant navy of America." The act that brought them into existence was almost deified by the majority of the peo- ple as a grand stroke of economy. — By the beard of Mahomet, but this word is truly inexplicable ! To this economic body, therefore, was I advised to address my petition, and humbly to pray that the august assembly of sages would, in the plenitude of their wisdom and the mag- nitude of their powers, munificently bestow on an imfortu- nate captive, a pair of cotton breeches ! " Head of the immor- tal Amrou," cried I, "but this would be presumptuous to a de- gree ; what ! after these worthies have thought proper to leave their country naked and defenceless, and exposed to all the po- litical storms that rattle without, can I expect that they will lend a helping hand to comfort the extremities of a solitary captive?" My exclamation was only answered by a smile, and I was consoled by the assurance that, so far from being neg- lected, it was every way probable my breeches might occupy a whole session of the divan, and set several of the longest heads together by the ears. Flattering as was the idea of a whole nation being agitated about my breeches, yet I own I was somewhat dismayed at the idea of remaining in querpo, until all the national gray -beards should have made a speech on the occasion, and given their consent to the measure. The embarrassment and distress of mind which I experienced was visible in my countenance, and my guard, who is a man of in- finite good-nature, immediately suggested, as a more expedi- tious plan of supplying my wants — a benefit at the theatre. Though profoundly ignorant of his meaning, I agreed to his proposition, the result of which I shall disclose to thee in another letter. Fare thee well, dear Asem; in thy pious prayers to our great prophet, never forget to solicit thy friend's return ; and when thou numberest up the many blessings bestowed on thee by all-bountiful Allah, pour forth thy gratitude that he has cast thy nativity in a land where there is no assembly of legislative chatterers : — no great bashaw, who bestrides a gun- boat for a hobby-horse: — where the word economy is un- SALMAOUNDL 117 known ;— and where an unfortunate captive is not obliged to call upon the whole nation, to cut liim out a pair of breeches. Ever thine, MUSTAPHA. FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. Though enter'd on that sober age, When men withdraw from fashion's stage. And leave the follies of the day. To shape their course a graver way ; Still those gay scenes I loiter round. In which my youth sweet transport found : And though I feel their joys decay, And languish every hour away, — Yet hke an exile doom'd to part, From the dear country of his heart, From the fair spot in which he sprung. Where his first notes of love were sung, Will often turn to wave the hand. And sigh his blessings on the land; Just so my lingering watch I keep. Thus oft I take my farewell peep. And, like that pilgrim who retreats. Thus lagging from his parent seats, When the sad thought pervades his mind, That the fair land he leaves behind Is ra^vaged by a foreign foe, Its cities waste, its temples low, And ruined all those haunts of joy That gave him rapture when a boy ; Turns from it with averted eye, And while he heaves the anguish'd sigh, Scarce feels regret that the loved shore Shall beam upon his sight no more \— Just so it grieves my soul to view. While breathing forth a fond adieu^ The innovations pride has made. The fustian, frippery, and parade. That now usurp with mawkish grace Pure tranquil pleasure's wonted place 1 118 SALMAGUNDI. 'Twas joy we look'd for in my prime, That idol of the olden time ; When all our pastimes had the art To please, and not mislead, the heart. Style curs'd us not,— that modern flash, That love of racket and of trash ; Which scares at once all feeling joys, And drowns dehght in empty noise ; Which barters friendship, mirth, and truth, The artless air, the bloom of youth. And all those gentle sweets that swarm Eound nature in her simplest form, For cold display, for hollow state, The trappings of the would-be great. - Oh ! once again those days recall, When heart met heart in fashion's hall ;, When every honest guest would flock To add his pleasure to the stock. More fond his transports to express, Than show the tinsel of his dress ! These were the times that clasp'd the sou] In gentle friendship's soft control, Our fair ones, unprof an'd by art, Content to gain one honest heart. No train of sighing swains desired, Sought to be loved and not admired. But now 'tis form, not love, unites ; 'Tis show, not pleasure, that invites. Each seeks the ball to play the queen, To flirt, to conquer, to be seen ; Each grasps at imiversal sway, And reigns the idol of the day ; Exults amid a thousand sighs. And triumphs when a lover dies. Each belle a rival belle surveys, like deadly foe with hostile gaze ; Nor can her " dearest friend" caress. Till she has slyly scann'd her dress ; Ten conquests in one year will make. And six eternal friendships break ! How oft I breathe the inward sigh, And feel the dew-drop in my eye, SALMAGUNDI. 119 When I behold some beauteous frame, Divine in every thing but name. Just venturing, in the tender age, On fashion's late new-fangled stage ! Where soon the guiltless heart shall cease To beat in artlessness and peace ; • Where all the flowers of gay delight With which youth decks its prospects bright, Shall wither 'mid the cares, the strife. The cold realities of life ! Thus lately, in my careless mood, As I the world of fashion view'd While celebrating great and small That grand solemnity, a ball, My roving vision chanced to light On two sweet forms, divinely bright ; Two sister nymphs, ahke in face, In mien, in loveliness, and grace ; * Twin rose-buds, bursting into bloom, In aU their brilliance and perfume : Like those fair forms that often beam Upon the Eastern poet's dream ! For Eden had each lovely maid In native innocence arrayed, — And heaven itself had almost shed ^ Its sacred halo round each head ! They seem'd, just entering hand in hand, To cautious tread this fairy land ; To take a timid, hasty view, Enchanted with a scene so new. The modest blush, untaught by art, Bespoke their purity of heart ; And every timorous act unfurl'd Two souls unspotted by the world. Oh, how these strangers joy'd my sight. And thriil'd my bosom -with delight ! They brought the visions of my youth Back to my soul in all their truth ; Recall'd fair spirits into day. That time's rough hand had swept away ! Thus the bright natives from above, Who come on messages of love, 120 8ALMA0UNDI. Will bless, at rare and distant whiles, Our sinful dwelling by tbeir smiles ! Oh I my romance of youth is past, Dear airy dreams too bright to last ! Yet when such forms as these appear, • I feel your soft remembrance here ; For, ah ! the simple poet's heart. On which fond love once play'd its part. Still feels the soft pulsations beat. As loth to quit their former seat. Just like the harp's melodious wire, Swept by a bard with heavenly fire. Though ceased the loudly swelling strain Yet sweet vibrations long remain. Full soon I found the lovely pair Had sprung beneath a mother's care, Hard by a neighbouring streamlet's side. At once its ornament and pride. The beauteous parent's tender heart Had well f ulfill'd its pious part ; And, like the holy man of old. As we're by sacred writings told. Who, when he from his pupil sped, Pour'd two-fold blessings on his head.- So this fond mother had imprest ^ Her early virtues in each breast, A.nd as she found her stock enlarge, Had stampt new graces on her charge. The fair resign'd the calm retreat. Where first their souls in concert beat. And flew on expectation's wing, To sip the joys of life's gay spring; To sport in fashion's splendid maze, Where friendship fades and love decays. So two sweet wild flowers, near the side Of some fair river's silver tide. Pure as the gentle stream that laves ^The green banks with its lucid waves, Bloom beauteous in their native ground^ Diffusing heavenly fragrance round ; But should a venturous hand transfer These blossoms to the gay parterre, SALMAGUNDI. 121 Where, spite of artificial aid, The fairest plants of nature fade, Though they may shine supreme awhile 'Mid pale ones of the stranger soil, The tender beauties soon decay,- And their sweet fragrance dies away. Blest spirits ! who, enthroned in air. Watch o'er the virtues of the fair. And with angelic ken survey Their windings through hfe's chequer'd way; Who hover round them as they ghde Down fashion's smooth, deceitful tide. And guard them o'er that stormy deep Where dissipation's tempests sweep : Oh, make this inexperienced pair The objects of your tenderest care. Preserve them from the languid eye, The faded cheek, the long-drawn sigh; And let it be your constant aim To keep the fair ones still the same : Two sister hearts, unsulhed, bright As the first beam of lucid light That sparkled from the youthful sun, When first his jocund race begun. So when these hearts shall burst their ghrine, To wing their flight to realms divine. They may to radiant mansions rise Pure as when first they left the skies. 122 8ALMAQUNDL NO. X.-SATURDAY, MAY 16, 180T- FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. ^ The long interval whicli has elapsed since the publication of our last number, like many other remarkable events, has given rise to much conjecture and excited considerable soUci- tude. It is but a day or two since I heard a knowing young gentleman observe, that he suspected Salmagundi woiild be a nine days' wonder, and had evem prophesied that the ninth would be our last effort. But the age of prophecy, as well as that of chivalry, is past ; and no reasonable man should now venture to foretell aught but what he is^determined to bring about himself : — he may then, if he please, monopolize predic- tion, and be honoured as a prophet even in his own country. . Though I hold whether we write, or not write, to be none of the public's business, yet as I have just heard of the loss of three thousand votes at least to the Clintonians, I feel in a remarkably dulcet humour thereupon, and will give some account of the reasons which induced us to resume our useful labours : — or rather our amusement ; for, if writing cost either of us a moment's labour, there is not a man but what would hang up his pen, to the great detriment of the world at large, and of our pubhsh^ in particular; who has actually bought himself a pair of trunk breeches, with the profits of our writings ! ! He informs me that several persons having called last Saturday for No. X., took the disappointment so much to heart, that he really apprehended some terrible catastrophe; and one good-looking man, in particular, declared his inten- tion of quitting the country if the work was not continued. Add to this, the town has grown quite melancholy in the last fortnight; and several young ladies have declared, in my hearing, that if another number did not make its appearance SALMAGUNDI. 123 soon, they would be obliged to amuse themselves with teasing their beaux and making them miserable. Now I assure my readers there was no flattery in this, for they no more sus- pected me of being Launcelot Langstaff , than they suspected me of being the emperor of China, or the man in the moon. I have also received several letters complaining of our indo- lent procrastination; and one of my correspondents assures me, that a number of young gentlemen, who had not read a book through since' they left school, but who have taken a wonderful liking to our paper, will certainly relapse into their old habits unless we go on. For the sake, therefore, of all these good people, and most especially for the satisfaction of the ladies, every one of whom we would love, if we possibly could, I have again wielded my pen with a most hearty determination to set the whole world to rights ; to make cherubims and seraphs of all the fair ones of this enchanting town, and raise the spirits of the poor federahsts, who, in truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever since the American-Tickft met with the accident of being so unhappily thrown out. to LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Sir: — I felt myself hurt and offended by Mr, Evergreen's terrible phiUppic against modern music, in No. II. of your work, and was under serious apprehension that his strictures might bring the art, which I have the honour to profess, into contempt. The opinion of yourself and fraternity appears indeed to have a wonderful effect upon the town.— I am told the ladies are all employed in reading Bunyan and Pamela, and the waltz has been entirely forsaken ever since the winter balls have closed. Under these apprehensions I should have addressed you before, had I not been sedulously employed, while the theatre continued open, in supporting the astonish- ing variety of the orchestra, and in composing a new chime or Bob-Major for Trinity Church, to be rung during the summer, beginning with dine^-dong di-do, instead of di-do ding-dong. ,The citizens, especially those who live in the neighbourhood of that harmonious quarter, will, no doubt, be infinitely de- lighted with this novelty. 124 SALMAGUNDI. But to the object of this communication. So far, sir, from agreeing with Mr. Evergreen in thinking that all modem music is but the mere dregs and drainings of the ancient, I trust, before this letter is concluded, I shall convince you and him that some of the late professors of this enchanting art have completely distanced the paltry ejfforts of the ancients ; and that I, in particular, have at length brought it almost to absolute perfection. The Greeks, simple souls ! were astonished at the powers of Orpheus, who made the woods and rocks dance to his lyre; — of Amphion, who converted crotchets into bricks, and qua^ vers into mortar ; — and of Arion, who won upon the compas^ sion of the fishes. In the fervency of admiration, their poets fabled that Apollo had lent them his lyre, and inspired them with his own spirit of harmony. What then would they have said had they witnessed the vf onderf ul effects of my skill ? had they heard me in the compass of a single piece, describe in glowing notes one of the most sublime operations of nature; and not only make inanimate objecte dance, but even speak ; and not only speak, but speak in strains of exquisite harmony ? Let me not, however, be understood to say that I am the sole author of this extraordinary improvement in the art, for I confess I took the hint of many of my discoveries from some of those meritorious productions that have lately come abroad and made so much noise under the title of overtures. From some of these, as, for instance, Lodoiska, and the battle of Marengo, a gentleman, or a captain in the city militia, or an amazonian young lady, may indeed acquire a tolerable idea of military tactics, and become very well experienced in the firing of musketry, the roaring of cannon, the rattling of drmns, the whisthng of fifes, braying of trumpets, groans of the dying, and trampling of cavalry, without ever going to the wars ; but it is more especially in the art of imitating inimitable things, and giving the language of every passion and sentiment of the human mind, so as entirely to do away the necessity of speech, that I particularly excel the most celebrated musicians of ancient and modern times. I think, sir, I may venture to say there is not a sound in the whole compass of nature which I cannot imitate, and even improve upon ; — nay, what I consider the perfection of my art, I have discovered a method of expressing, in the most striking manner, that undefinable, indescribable silence which accom- panies the falling of snow. SALMAGUNDI. 125 In order to prove to you that I do not arrogate to myself what I am unable to perform, I will detail to you the different movements of a grand piece which I pride myself upon ex- ceedingly, called the "Breaking up of the ice in the North River." The piece opens with a gentle andante affetuosso, which ush- ers you into the assembly-room in the state-house in Albany, where the speaker addresses his farewell speech, informing the members that the ice is about breaking up, and thanking them for their great services and good behaviour in a manner so pa- thetic as to bring tears into their eyes.— Flourish of Jacks-a- donkies.— Ice cracks; Albany in a hub-bub: — air, " Three chil- dren sliding on the ice, all on a summer's day."— Citizens quarrelhng in Dutch; chortis of a tin trumpet, a cracked fiddle, and a hand-saw ! allegro moderato. — Hard frost :— this, if given with proper spirit, has a charming effect, and sets every body's teeth chattering. — Symptoms of snow— consulta- tion of old women who complain of pains in the bones and rheumatics; air, ''There was an old woman tossed up in a blanket," &c. allegro staccato ; wagon breaks into the ice; — people all run to see what is the matter ; air, siciliano — "Can you row the boat ashore, Billy boy, Billy boy;" — an- dante;— ivo^t, fish froze up in the ice; air, — " Ho, why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray, and why does thy nose look so blue ?" .Flourish of two-penny trumpets and rattlers; — consultation of the North-river society ;— determine to set the North-river on fire, as soon as it will burn;— air, "O, what a fine kettle of fish." Part II.— Great Thaw.— This consists of the most melting strains. Avowing so smoothly as to occasion a great overflowing of scientific rapture; air—" One misty moisty morning." The house of assembly breaks up— air — "The owls came out and flew about." Assembly-men embark on their way to New- York air "The ducks and the geese they all swam over, fal, de ral," &c. Vessel sets sail — chorus of mariners — "Steer her up, and let her gang." After this a rapid move- ment conducts you to New York;— the North-river society hold a meeting at the corner of Wall-street, and determine to delay burning tfll aU the assembly-men are safe home, for fear of consuming some of their own members who belong to that re- spectable body. Eeturn again to the capital. — Ice floats down the river; lamentation of skaters; Siiv, affetuosso — "I sigh and lament me in vain," &c.— Albanians cutting up sturgeon ;— air. 126 SALMAGUNDI. ''O the roast beef of Albany." — Ice runs against. Polopoy's island, with a terrible crash.— This is represented by a fierce fellow travelling with his fiddle-stick over a huge bass viol, at the rate^of one hundred and fifty bars a minute, an^ tearing the music to rags; — this being what is called execution. — The great body of ice passes West-point, and is saluted by three or four dismounted cannon, from Fort Putnam.— "Jefferson's march" by a full band;— air, "Yankee doodle," with seventy-six varia- tions, never before attempted, except by the celebrated eagle, which flutters his wings over the copper-bottomed angel at Messrs. Paff's in Broadway. Ice passes New- York : conch-shell sounds at a distance — ferrymen calls o-v-e-r ; — people run down Courtlandt-street— ferry-boat sets sail air— accompanied by the conch-shell— " We'll all go* over the ferry." — Rondeau — giving a particular account of Brom the Powle§ hook admiral, who is supposed to be closely connected with the North-river society.— The society raake a grand attempt to fire the stream, but are utterly defeated by a remarkable high tide, which brings the plot to light ; drowns upwards of a thousand rats, and occasions twenty robins to ibreak their necks.* — Society not being discouraged, apply to " Common Sense," for his lan- tern; Air— "Nose, nose, jolly red nose." Flock of wild geese fly over the city ;— old wives chatter in the fog- — cocks crow at Communipaw— drums beat on Governor's island. — The whole to conclude with the blowing up of Sand's powder- house. Thus, sir, you perceive what wonderful powers of expression have been hitherto locked up in this enchanting art : — a whole history is here told without the aid of speech, or writing; and provided the hearer is in the least acquainted with music, he cannot mistake a single note. As to the blowing up of the powder-house, I look upon it as a chef d'ouvre, which I am confident will delight all modem amateurs, who very properly estimate music in proportion to the noise it makes, and dehght in thundering cannon and earthquakes. I must confess, however, it is a difficult part to manage, and I have already broken six pianos in giving it the proper force and effect. But I do not despair, and am quite certain that by the time I have broken eight or ten more, I shall have brought it to such perfection, as to be able to teach any young lady of tolerable ear, to thunder it away to the infinite delight of papa * Vide — Solomon Lang. SALMAGUNDI. 127 and mamma, and the great annoyance of those Vandals, who are so barbarous as to prefer the simple melody of a Scots air, to the sublime effusions of modern musical doctors. In my warm anticipations of future improvement, I have sometimes almost convinced myself that music will, in time, be brought to such a climax of perfection, as to supersede the necessity of speech and writing; and every kind of social intercourse be conducted by the flute and fiddle. — The immense benefits that will result from this improvement must be plain to every man of the least consideration. In the present un- happy situation of mortals, a man has but one way of making himself perfectly understood ; if he loses his speech, he must inevitably be dumb aU the rest of his life; but having once learned this new musical language, the loss of speech will be a mere trifle not worth a moment's uneasiness. Not only this, Mr. L., but it will add much to the harmony of domestic inter- course ; for it is certainly much more agreeable to hear a lady give lectures on the piano than, viva voce, in the usual discord, ant measure. This manner of discoursing may also, I think, be introduced with great effect into our national assembhes, where every man, instead of wagging his tongue, should be obliged to flourish a fiddle-stick, by which means, if he said nothing to the purpose, he would, at aU events, "discourse most eloquent music," which is more than can be said of most of them at present. They might also soimd their own trumpets without being obliged to a hireling scribbler, for an immortahty of nine days, or subjected to the censure of egotism. But the most important result of this discovery is that it may be applied to the establishment of that great desideratum, in the learned world, a universal language. Wherever this science of music is cultivated, nothing more will be necessary than a knowledge of its alphabet; which being almost the same everywhere, will amount to a universal medium of com munication. A man may thus, with his violin under his arm, a piece of rosin, and a few bundles of catgut, fiddle his way through the world, and never be at a loss to make himself understood. I am, etc. Demy Semiquaver. [end of vol. one.] SALMAGUNDI. VOLUME TWO. NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER. Without the knowledge or permission of the authors, and which, if he dared, he would have placed near where their remarks are made on the great difference of manners which exists between the sexes now, from what it did in the days of our grandames. The danger of that cheek-by-jowl familiarity of the present day, must be obvious to many ; and I think the following a strong example of one of its evils. EXTRACTED FROM "I REMEMBER the Count M , one of the most accomplished and handsomest young men in Vienna ; when I was there he was passionately in love with a girl of almost peerless beauty. She was the daughter of a man of great rank, and great influ- ence at court ; and on these considerations, as well as in regard to her charms, she was followed by a multitude of suitors. She was hvely and amiable, and treated them all with an affa- bility which still kept them in her train, although it was gener- ally known she had avowed a partiality for Count M ; and that preparations were making for their nuptials. The Count was of a refined mind, and a delicate sensibility ; he loved her for herself alone : for the virtues which he beheved dwelt in her beautiful form ; and, like a lover of such perfections, he never approached her without timidity; and when he touched her, a fire shot thi-ough his veins, that warned him not to invade the vermillion sanctuary of her hps. Such were his feelings when, one evening, at his intended father-in-law's, a party of y oimg people were met to celebrate a certain festival ; several of the young lady's rejected suitors were present. For- feits were one of the pastimes, and all went on with the great- est merriment, till the Count was commanded, by some witty 130 SALMAGUNDI. marri'selle, to redeem his glove by saluting the cheek of "his intended bride. The Count blushed, trembled, advanced, retreated; again advanced to his mistress; — and, — at last, — with a tremor that shook his whole soul, and every fibre of his frame, with a modest and diffident grace, he took the soft ringlet which played upon her cheek, pressed it to his hps, and retired to demand his redeemed pledge in the most evident confusion. His mistress gaily smiled, and the game went on. "One of her rejected suitors who was of a merry, unthink- ing disposition, was adjudged by the same indiscreet crier of the forfeits as "his last treat before he hanged himself " to snatch a kiss from the object of his recent vows. A hvely con- test ensued between the gentleman and lady, which lasted for more than a minute ; but the lady yielded, though in the midst of a convulsive laugh. " The Coimt had the mortification — the agony — to see the lips, which his passionate and delicate love would not permit him to touch, kissed with roughness, and repetition, by afiother man :— even by one whom he really despised. Mourn- fully and silently, without a word, he rose from his chair— left the room and the house. By that good-natured kiss the fair boast of Vienna lost her lover— lost her husband. The Count SALMAGUNDI 131 NO. XL-TUESDAY, JUNE 2, 1807. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUBA-DUB KELI KHAN, CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. The deep shadows of midnight gather around me ; — the foot- steps of the passengers have ceased in the streets, and nothing disturbs the holy silence of the hour save the sound of distant drums, mingled with the shouts, the bawlings, and the discord- ant revelry of his majesty, the sovereign mob. Let the hour be sacred to friendship, and consecrated to thee, oh, thou brother of my inmost soul ! Oh, Asem ! I almost shrink at the recollection of the scenes of confusion, of licentious disorganization, which I have wit- nessed during the last three days. I have beheld this whole city, nay, this whole state, given up to the tongue, and the pen ; to the puffers, the bawlers, the babblers, and the slang- whangers. I have beheld the community convulsed with a civil war, or civil talk ; individuals verbally massacred, fami- lies annihilated by whole sheets full, and slang- whangers coolly bathing their pens in ink and rioting in the slaughter of their thousands. I have seen, in short, that awful despot, the peo- ple, in the moment of unlimited power, wielding newspapers in one hand, and with the other scattering mud and filth about, like some desperate lunatic reheved from the restraints of his straight waistcoat. I have seen beggars on horseback, ragamuffins riding in coaches, and swine seated in places of honour ; I have seen liberty ; I have seen equality ; I have seen fraternity !— I have seen that great political puppet-show AN ELECTION. A few days ago the friend, whom I have mentioned in some of my former letters, called upon me to accompany him to 133 SALMA G UNDI. witness this grand ceremony; and we forthwith sallied out* to the polls, as he called them. Though for several weeks before this splendid exhibition, nothing else had been talked of, yet I do assure thee I was entirely ignorant of its nature ; and when, on coming up to a church, my companion informed me we were at the poll, I supposed that an election was some great rehgious ceremony like the fast of Ramazan, or the great fes- tival of Haraphat, so celebrated in the east. My friend, however, undeceived me at once, and entered into a long dissertation on the nature and object of an elec- tion, the substance of which was nearly to this effect: "You know," said he, "that this country is engaged in a violent in- ternal warfare, and suffers a variety of evils from civil dissen- sions. An election is a grand trial of strength, the decisive battle, when the belligerents draw out their forces in martial array ; when every leader, burning with warHke ardour, and encouraged by the shouts and acclamations of tatterdemalions, buffoons, dependents, parasites, toad eaters, scrubs, vagrants, mumpers, ragamuffins, bravoes, and beggars, in his rear; and puffed up by his bellows-blowing slang-whangers, waves gal- lantly the banners of faction, and presses forward to office AND IMMORTALITY ! "For a month or two previous to the critical period which is to decide this important affair, the whole community is in a ferment. Every man, of whatever rank or degree, such is the wonderful patriotism of the people, disinterestedly neglects his business, to devote himself to his country ; — ^and not an insig- nificant fellow, but feels himself inspired, on this occasion, with as much warmth in favour of the cause he has espoused, as if all the comfort of his life, or even his life itself, was de- pendent on the issue. Grand councils of war are, in the first place, called by the different powers, which are dubbed gen- eral meetings, where all the head workmen of the party col- lect, and arrange the order of battle; — appoint the different commanders, and their subordinate instruments, and furnish the funds indispensable for supplying the expenses of the war. Inferior councils are next tailed in the different classes or wards; consisting of young cadets, who are candidates for offices ; idlers who come there for mere curiosity ; and orators who appeals for the purpose of detailing all the crimes, the faults, or the weaknesses of their opponents, and speaking the sense of the meeting, as it is called ; for as the meeting gen- erally consists of men whose quota of sense, taken individually 8ALMA0UNDL 138 would make but a poor figure, these orators are appointed to collect it all in a lump ; when I assure you it makes a very formidable appearance, and furnishes sufficient matter to spin an oration of two or three hours. "The orators who declaim at these meetings are, with a few exceptions, men of most profound and perplexed elo- quence ; who are the oracles of barbers' shops, market-places, and porter-houses ; and who you may see every day at the comers of the streets, taking honest men prisoners by the but- ton, and talking their ribs quite bare without mercy and with- out end. These orators, in addressing an audience, generally mount a chair, a table, or an empty beer barrel,* which last is supposed to afford considerable inspiration, and thimder away their combustible sentunents at the heads of the audience, who are generally so busily employed in smoking, drinking, and hearing themselves talk, that they seldom hear a word of the matter. This, however, is of little moment; for as they come there to agree at all events to a certain set of resolutions, or articles of war, it is not at all necessary to hear the speech ; more especially as few would understand it if they did. Do not suppose, however, that the minor persons of the meeting are entirely idle. — Besides smoking and drinking, which are generally practised, there are few who do not come with as great a desire to talk as the orator himself; each has his httle circle of listeners, in the midst of whom he sets his hat on one side of his he^d, and deals out matter-of-fact information ; and draws self-evident conclusions, with the pertinacity of a ped- ant, and to the great edification of his gaping auditors. Nay, the very urchins from the nursery, who are scarcely eman- cipated from the dominion of birch, on these occasions strut pigmy great men ; — bellow for the instruction of gra^y-bearded ignorance, and, like the frog in the fable, endeavour to puff themselves up to the size of the great object of their emulation — the principal orator." "But is it not preposterous to a degree," cried I, "for those puny whipsters to attempt to lecture age and experience ? They should be sent to school to learn better." "Not at all," replied my friend; " for as an election is nothing more than a war of words, the man that can wag his tongue with the greatest elasticity, whether he speaks to the purpose or not, is entitled to lecture at ward meetings and polls, and instriK^t all who are inclined to listen to him : you may have remarked a ward meeting of politic dogs, where although the great dog 134 SALMAGUIsDI. is, ostensibly, the leader, and makes the most noise, yet every Uttle scoundrel of a cur has something to say ; and in propor- tion to his insignificance, fidgets, and worries, and puffs about mightily, in order to obtain the notice and approbation of his betters. Thus it is with these little, beardless, bread-and-but- ter iDoliticians who, on this occasion, escape from the jurisdic- tion of their mammas to attend to the affairs of the nation. You will see them engaged in dreadful wordy contest with old cartmen, cobblers, and tailors, and plume themselves not a lit- tle if they should chance to gain a victory. — Aspiring spirits! how interesting are the first dawnings of political greatness ! an election, nly friend, is a nursery or hot-bed of genius in a logocracy; and I look with enthusiasm on a troop of these Lilliputian partisans, as so many chatterers, and orators, and puffers, and slang- whangers in embryo, who will one day take an important part in the quarrels, and wordy wars of their country. "As the time for fighting the decisive battle approaches, ap- pearances become more and more alarming; committees are appointed, who hold little encampments from whence they send out small detachments of tattlers, to reconnoitre, harass, and skirmish with the enemy, and if possible, ascertain their numbers ; every body seems big with the mighty event that is impending ; the orators they gradually swell up beyond their usual size; the little orators they grow greater and greater; the secretaries of the ward committees strut about looking like wooden oracles; the puffers put on the airs of mighty conse- quence; the slang- whangers deal out direful innuendoes, and threats of doughty import; and all is buzz, murmur, suspense, and sublimity ! "At length the day arrives. The storm that has been so long gathering, and threatening in distant thunders, bursts forth in terrible explosion : all business is at an end ; the whole city is in a tumult ; the people are running helter-skelter, they know not whither, and they know not why; the hackney coaches rattle through the streets with thundering vehe- mence, loaded with recruiting Serjeants who have been prowl- ing in cellars and caves, to unearth some miserable minion of poverty and ignorance, who will barter his vote for a glass of beer, or a ride in a coach with such fine gentlemen! — the buz- zards of the party scamper from poll to poll, on foot or on horseback ; and they worry from committee to committee, and buzz, and fume, and talk big, and— do nothing : like the vaga- SALMAGUNDI. 135 bond drone, who wastes his tune in the laborious idleness of seesaw-song^ and bufey nothingness." I know not how long my friend would have continued his detail, had he not been interrupted by a squabble which took placed between two old continentals, as they were called. It seems they had entered into an argument on the respective merits of their ^cause, and not being able to make each other clearly understood, resorted to what is called knock-down ar- guments, which form the superlative degree of argumentum adhominem; but are, in my opinion, extremely in consistent with the true spirit of a genuine logocracy. After they had beaten each other soundly, and set the whole mob together by the ears, they came to a full explanation ; when it was discov- ered that they were both of the same way of thinking; — where- upon they shook each other heartily by the hand, and laughed with great glee at their humorous misunderstanding. I could not help bemg struck with the exceeding great num- ber of ragged, dirty-looking persons that swaggered about the place and seemed to think themselves the bashaws of the land, I inquired of my friend, if these people were employed to drive away the hogs, dogs, and other intruders that might thrust themselves in and interrupt the ceremony? "By no means," replied he; "these are the representatives of the sovereign people, who come here to make governors, senators, and mem- bers of assembly, and are the source of all power and authority in this nation." "Preposterous!" said I, "how is it possible that such men can be capable of distinguishing between an honest man and a knave ; or even if they were, will it not always happen that they are led by the nose by some intrig- uing demagogue, and made the mere tools of ambitious pohtical jugglers? Surely it would be better to trust to providence, or even to chance, for governors, than resort to the discriminat- ing powers of an ignorant mob. — I plainly perceive the con- sequence. A man who possesses superior talents, and that honest pride which ever accompanies this possession, will al- ways be sacrificed to some creeping insect who will prostitute himself to familiarity with the lowest of mankind; and, hke the idolatrous Egyptian, worship the wallowing tenants of filth and mire." " All this is true enough," replied my friend, "but after all, you cannot say but that this is a free country, and that the people can get drunk cheaper here, particularly at elections, than in the despotic countries of the east." I could not, with 136 SALMAGUNDI. any degree of propriety or truth, deny this last assertion ; ^f or just at that moment a patriotic brewer arrived with a load of beer, which, for a moment, occasioned a cessation of argu- ment. The great crowd of buzzards, puffers, and "old con- tinentals " of all parties, who throng to the polls, to persuade, to cheat, or to force the freeholders into the right way, and to maintain the freedom of suffrage, seemed for a moment to for- get their antipathies and joined, heartily, in a copious libation of this patriotic and argumentative beverage. These beer-barrels indeed seem to be most able logicians, weU stored with that kind of sound argument best suited to the comprehension, and most relished by the mob, or sovereign people ; who are never so tractable as when operated upon by this convincing liquor, which, in fact, seems to be imbued with the very spirit of a logocracy. No sooner does it begin its operation, than the tongue waxes exceeding valorous, and becomes impatient for some mighty conflict. The puffer puts himself at the head of his body-guard of buzzards, and his legion of ragamuffins, and wo then to every unhappy adver- sary who is uninspired by the deity of the beer-barrel — he is sure to be talked and argued into complete insignificance. While I was making these observations, I was surprised to observe a bashaw, high in oflSce, shaking a fellow by the hand, that looked rather more ragged than a scare-crow, and inquir- ing with apparent solicitude concerning the health of his family; after which he slipped a little folded paper into his hand, and turned away. I could not help applauding his humility in shaking the feUow's hand, and his benevolence in relieving his distresses, for I imagined the paper contained something for the poor man's necessities ; and trtdy he seemed verging towards the last stage of starvation. My friend, how- ever, soon undeceived me by saying that this was an elector, and that the bashaw had merely given him the list of candi- dates for whom he was to vote. "Ho! ho!" said I, "then he is a particular friend of the bashaw?" "By no means," replied toy friend, "the bashaw will pass him without notice the day after the election, except, perhaps, just to drive over him with his coach." My friend then proceeded to inform me that for some time before, and during the continuance of an election, there was a most delectable courtship, or intrigue, carried on between the great bashaws and the mother mob. That mother mob gener- ally preferred the attentions of the rabble, or of fellows of her SALMAGUNDI. 137 own stamp ; but would sometimes condescend to be treated to a feasting, or any thing of that kind, at the bashaw's expense ; nay, sometimes when she was in good humour, she would con- descend to toy with them in her rough way : — but wo be to the bashaw who attempted to be familiar with her, for she was the most pestilent, cross, crabbed, scolding, thieving, scratching, toping, wrong-headed, rebellious, and abominable termagant that ever was let loose in the world, to the confusion of honest gentlemen bashaws. Just then a fellow came round and distributed among the crowd a number of hand-bills, written by the ghost of Wash- ington, the fame of whose illustrious actions, and still more illustrious virtues, has reached even the remotest regions of the east, and who is venerated by this people as the Father of his country. On reading this paltry paper, I could not re- strain my indignation. "Insulted hero," cried I, "is it thus thy name is profaned, thy memory disgraced, thy spirit drawn down from heaven to administer to the brutal violence of party rage ! — It is thus the necromancers of the east, by their infernal incantations, sometimes call up the shades of the just, to give their sanction to frauds, to lies, and to every species of enormity." My friend smiled at my warmth, and observed, that raising ghosts, and not only raising them, but making them speak, was one of the miracles of elections. "And believe me," continued he, "there is good reason for the ashes of departed "heroes being disturbed on these occasions, for such is the sandy foundation of our government, that there never happens an election of an alderman, or a collector, or even a constable, but we are in imminent danger of losing our liber- ties, and becoming a province of France, or tributary to the British islands." "By the hump of Mahomet's camel," said J, "but this is only another striking example of the prodigious great scale on which every thing is transacted in this country !" By this time, I had become tired of the scene; my head ached with the uproar of voices, mingling in all the discordant tones of triumphant exclamation, nonsensical argument, in- temperate reproach, and drunken absurdity.— The confusion was such as no language can adequately describe, and it seemed as if all the restraints of decency, and all the bands of law, had been broken, and given place to the wide ravages of licen- tious brutality. These, thought I, are the orgies of hberty! these are the manifestations of the spirit of independence! these are the symbols of man's sovereignty ! Head of Maho- 138 SALMAGUNDI. met! with what a fatal and inexorable despotism do empty names and ideal phantoms exercise their dominion over the human mind ! The experience of ages has demonstrated, that in all nations, barbarous or enlightened, the mass of the people, the mob, must be slaves, or they will be tyrants ; but their tyranny will not be long:— some ambitious leader, having at first condescended to be their slave, wiU at length become their master ; and in proportion to the vileness of his former servi' tude, wiU be the severity of his subsequent tyranny.— Yet, with innumerable examples staring them in the face, the people still bawl out liberty ; by which they mean nothing but freedom from every species of legal restraint, and a warrant for all kinds of licentiousness : and the bashaws and leaders, in courting the mob, convince them of their power; and by administering to their passions, for the purposes of ambition, at length learn, by fatal experience, that he who worships the beast that carries him on his back', wiU sooner or later be thrown into the dust and trampled under foot by the animal who has learnt the secret of its power by this very adoration. Ever thine, MUSTAPHA. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. MINE UNCLE JOHN. To those whose habits of abstraction may have led them into some of the secrets of their own minds, and whose free- dom from daily toil has left them at leisure to analyze their feelings, it will be nothing new to say that the present is pecu^ liarly the season of remembrance. The flowers, the zephyrs, and the warblers of spring, returning after their tedious ab- sence, bring naturally to our recollection past times and buried feehngs; and the whispers of the fuU-foliaged grove, faU on the ear of contemplation, like the sweet tones of far distant friends whom the rude j ostlers of the world have severed from us and cast far beyond our reach. It is at such times, that casting backward many a lingering look we recall, with a kind of sweet-souled melancholy, the days of our yoUth, and the jocimd companions who started with us the race of life, but parted midway in the journey to pursue some winding SALMAGUNDI. I39 path that allured them with a prospect more seducing— and never returned to us again. It is then, too, if we have been aflaicted with any heavy sorrow, if we have even lost — and who has not! — an old friend, or chosen companion, that his shade wiU Jhover around us ; the memory of his virtues press on the heart ; and a thousand endearing recollections, forgotten amidst the cold pleasures and midnight dissipations of winter, arise to our remembrance. These speculations bring to my mind my uncle' john, the history of whose loves, and disappointments, I have promised to the world. Though I must own myself much addicted to forgetting my promises, yet, as I have been so happily re- minded of this, I believe I must pay it at once, "and there is an end." Lest my readers— good-natured souls that they are! —should, in the ardour of peeping into millstones, take my uncle for an old acquaintance, I here inform them, that the old gentleman died a great many years ago, and it is impossi- ble they should ever have known him : — I pity them — for they would have known a good-natured, benevolent' man, whose example might have been of service. The last time I saw my uncle John was fifteen years ago, when I paid him a visit at his old mansion. I found him read- ing a newspaper— for it was election time, and he was always a warm federahst, and had made several converts to the true pohtical faith in his time ;— particularly one old tenant, who always, just before the election, became a violent anti;— in order that he might be convinced of his errors by my uncle, who never failed to reward his conviction by some substantial benefit. After we had settled the affairs of the nation, and I had paid my respects to the old family chronicles in the kitchen,— an indispensable ceremony,— the old gentleman exclaimed, with heai-t-felt glee, " WeU, I suppose you are for a trout-fishing ;— I have got every thing prepared ;— but first you must take a walk with me to see my improvements." I was obliged to consent; though I knew my uncle would lead me a most villainous dance, and in all probability treat me to a quagmire, or a tumble into a ditch. If my readers choose to accompany me in this expedition, they are welcome ; if not, let them stay at home like lazy fellows— and sleep— or be hanged. Though I had been absent several years, yet there was very Little alteration in the scenery, and every object retained the same features it bore when I was a school-boy: for it was in 140 8ALMAGUNDI. this spot that I grew up in the fear of ghosts, and in the "breack- ing of many of the ten commandments. The brook, or river as they woiild call it in Europe, still murmured with its wonted sweetness through the meadow ; and its banks were still tufted with dwarf willows, that bent down to the surface. The same echo inhabited the valley, and the same tender air of repose pervaded the whole scene. Even my good uncle was but little altered, except that his hair was grown a little grayer, and his forehead had lost some of its former smoothness. He had, however, lost nothing of his former activity, and laughed heartily at the difficulty I found in keeping up with him as he stumped through bushes, and briers, and hedges; talking all the time about his improvements, and teUing what he would do with such a spot of ground and such a tree. At length, after showing me his stone fences, his famous two-year-old buU, his new invented cart, which was to go before the horse, and his Eclipse colt, he was pleased to return home to dinner. After dinner and returning thanks,— which with him was not a ceremony merely, but an offering from the heart,— my uncle opened his trunk, took out his fishing-tackle, and, with- out saying a word, saUied forth with some of those truly alarming steps which Daddy Neptune once took when he was in a great hurry to attend to the affair of the siege of Troy. Trout-fishing was my uncle's favourite sport; and, though I always caught two fish to his one, he never would acknowl- edge my superiority ; but puzzled himself often and often to account for such a singular phenomenon. Following the current of the brook for a mile or two, we re- traced many of our old haunts, and told a hundred adventures which had befallen us at different times. It was like snatch- ing the hour-glass of time, inverting it, and roUing back again the sands that had marked the lapse of years. At length the shadows began to lengthen, the south- wind gradually settled into a perfect calm, the sun threw his rays through the trees on the hill-tops in golden lustre, and a kind of Sabbath still- ness pervaded the whole valley, indicating that the hour was fast approaching which was to relieve for a while the farmer from his rural labour, the ox from his toil, the school-m-chin from his primer, and bring the loving ploughman home to the feet of his blooming dairymaid. As we were watching in silence the last rays of the sun, beaming their farewell radiance on the high hills at a distance, my uncle exclaimed, in a kind of half -desponding tone, while SALMAGUNDI. 141 he rested his arm over an old tree that had fallen— "I know not how it is, my dear Launce, but such an evening, and such a still quiet scene as this, always make me a Httle sad ; and it is, at such a time, I am most apt to look forward with regret to the period when this farm, on which " I have been young, but now am old," and every object around me that is endeared by long acquaintance, — when all these and I must shake hands and part. I have no fear of death, for my life has afforded but httle temptation to wickedness ; and when I die, I hope to leave behind me more substantial proofs of virtue than will be found in my epitaph, and more lasting memorials than churches built or hospitals endowed ; with wealth wrung from the hard hand of poverty by an unfeeling landlord or unprin- cipled knave ; — but still, when I pass such a day as this and contemplate such a scene, I cannot help feeling a latent wish to linger yet a httle longer in this peaceful asylum ; to enjoy a little more sunshine in this world, and to have a few more fishing-matches with my boy." As he ended he raised his hand a little from the fallen tree, and dropping it languidly by his side, turned himseK towards home. The sentiment, the look, the action, all seemed to be prophetic. And so they were, for when I shook him by the hand and bade him fare- well the next morning— it was for the last time ! He died a bachelor, at the age of sixty-three, though he had been all his hfe trying to get married; and always thought himself on the point of accomplishing his wishes. His dis- appointments were not owing either to the deformity of his mind or person ; for in his youth he was reckoned handsome, and I myself can witness for him that he had as kind a heart as ever was fashioned by heaven ; neither were they owing to his poverty, — which sometimes stands in an honest man's way; — for he was born to the inheritance of a small estate which was sufficient to establish his claim to th& title of "one well-to-do in the world." The truth is, my uncle had a prodig- ious antipathy to doing things in a hurry. — "A man should consider," said he to me once—" that he can always get a wife, but cannot always get rid of her. For my part, " continued he, "I am a young fellow, with the world before me," — he was but about forty!— "and am resolved to look sharp, weigh matters well, and know what's what, before I marry: — in short, Launce, I don't intend to do the thing in a hurry, depend uponit.''^ On this whim- wham, he proceeded; he began with young girls, and ended with widows. The girls he courted until they grew old maids, or married out of pure apprehen- 142 SALMAGUNDI. sion of incurring certain penalties hereafter ; and the widows not having quite as much patience, generally, at the end of a year, while the good man thought himself in the high road to success, married some harum-scarum young fellow, who had not such an antipathy to doing things in a hurry. My uncle would have inevitably sunk under these rei)eated disappointments — for he did not want sensibility— had he not hit upon a discovery which set all to rights at once. He con- soled his vanity,— for he was a little vain, and soothed his pride, which was his master-passion,— by telling his friends very significantly, while his eye would flash triumph, " that he might have had her.^^ — Those who know how much of the bitter- ness of disappointed affection arises from wounded vanity and exasperated pride, will give my uncle credit for this discovery. My uncle had been told by a prodigious number of married men, and had read in an innumerable quantity of books^ that a man could not possibly be happy except in the married state ; so he determined at an early age to marry, that he might not lose his only chance for happiness. He accordingly forthwith paid his addresses to the daughter of a neighbouring gentleman farmer, who was reckoned the beauty of the whole world ; a phrase by which the honest country people mean nothing more than the circle of then* acquaintance, or that territory of land which is within sight of the smoke of their own hamlet. This young lady, in addition to her beauty, was highly ac- comphshed, for she had spent five or six months at a boarding- school in town ; where she learned to work pictures in satin, and paint sheep that might be mistaken for wolves ; to hold up her head, sit straight in her chair, and to think every species of useful acquirement beneath her attention. When she re- turned home, so completely had she forgotten every thing she knew before, that on seeing one of the maids milking a cow, she asked her father, with an air of most enchanting ignorance, "what that odd-looking thing was doing to that queer animal?" The old man shook his head at this ; but the mother was de- lighted at these symptoms of gentihty, and so enamoured of her daughter's accomplishments that she actually got framed a picture worked in satin by the young lady. It represented the Tomb Scene in Eomeo and Juliet. Eomeo was dressed in an orange-coloured cloak, fastened round his neck with a large golden . clasp ; a white satin tamboured waistcoat, leather breeches, blue silk stockings, and white topt boots. The ami- able Juliet shone in a flame-coloured gown, most gorgeously bespangled with silver stars, a high-crowned muslin cap that SALMAGUNDI. I43 reached to the top of the tomb ;— on her feet she wore a pair of short-quartered, high-heeled shoes, and her waist was the exact fac-simile of an inverted sugar-loaf. The head of the "noble county Paris" looked hke a chimney-sweeper's brush that had lost its handle ; and the cloak of the good Friar hung about him as gracefully as the armour of a rhinoceros. The good lady considered this picture as a splendid proof of her daughter's accomplishments, and hung it up in the best parlour, as an honest tradesman does his certificate of admission into that en- hghtened body yclept the Mechanic Society. With this accomplished young lady then did my uncle John become deeply enamoured, and as it was his first love, he de- termined to bestir himself in an extraordinary manner. Once at least in a fortnight, and generally on a Sunday evening, he would put on his leather breeches, for he was a great beau, mount his gray horse Pepper, and ride over to see Miss Pamela, though she lived upwards of a mile off, and he was obliged to pass close by a church-yard, which at least a hundred credita- ble persons would swear was haunted ! — Miss Pamela could not be insensible to such proofs of attachment, :and accordingly received him with considerable kindness ; her mother always left the room when he came, and my uncle had as good as made a declaration, by saying one evening, very signifi- cantly, " that he behoved that he should soon change his con- dition ;" when, some how or other, he began to think he was doing things in too great a hurry, and that it was high time to consider ; so he considered near a month about it, and there is lio saying how much longer he might have spun the thread of his doubts had he not been roused from this state of indecision by the news that his mistress had married an attorney's ap- prentice whom she had seen the Sunday before at church ; where he had excited the applause of the whole congregation by the invincible gravity with which he listened to a Dutch sermon. The young people in the neighbourhood laughed a good deal at my uncle on the occasion, but he only shrugged his shoulders, looked mysterious, and replied, ' ' Tut, hoys ! I might have had Tier." NOTE BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. Our publisher, who is busily engaged in printing a celebrated work, which is per- haps more generally read in this city than any other book, not excepting the Bible; —I mean the New York Directory— has begged so hard that we will not overwhelm him with too much of a good thing, that we have, with Langstaff's approbation, ei4 short the residue of uncte John's amours. In all probability it will be given in ;^^'ture number, whenever Launcelot is in the humour for it— he is such an odd— uum— for fear of another suspension. 144r SALMAGUNDI. NO. XII -SATURDAY, JUNE 27, 180T. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Some men delight in the study of plants, in the dissection of a leaf, or the contour and complexion of a tuHp ;— others are charmed with the beauties of the feathered race, or the varied hues of the insect tribe. A naturalist will spend hours in the fatiguing pursuit of a butterfly, and a man of the ton will waste whole years in the chase of a fine lady. I feel a respect for their avocations, for my own are somewhat similar. I love to open the great volume of human character : — to me the ex- amination of a beau is more interesting than that of a Daffodil or Narcissus; and I feel a thousand times more pleasure in catching a new view of human nature, than in kidnapping the most gorgeous butterfly, — even an Emperor of Morocco himself ! In my present situation I have ample room for the indul- gence of this taste ; for, perhaps, there is not a house in this city more fertile in subjects for the anatomist of hmnan char- acter, than my cousin Cockloft's. Honest Christopher, as I have before mentioned, is one of those hearty old cavaliers who pride themselves upon -keeping up the good, honest, un- ceremonious hospitahty of old times.— He is never so happy as when he has drawn about him a knot of sterling-hearted asso- ciates, and sits at the head of his table dispensing a warm, cheering welcome to all. His countenance expands at every glass and beams forth emanations of hilarity, benevolence, and good-fellowship, that inspire and gladden every guest around him. It is no wonder, therefore, that such excellent social qualities should attract a host of friends and guests ; in fact, my cousin is almost overwhelmed with them ; and they all, uniformly, pronounce old Cockloft to be one of the finest old fellows in the world. His wine also always comes in for a good share of their approbation ; nor do they forget to do honour ^-o at SALMAGUNDI. 145 Mrs. Cockloft's cookery, pronouncing it to be modelled after the most approved recipes of Heliogabulus and Mrs. Glasse. The variety of company thus attracted is particularly pleasing to me ; for, being considered a privileged person in the family, I can sit in a corner, indulge in my favourite amusement of observation, and retreat to my elbow-chair, Hke a bee to his hive, whenever I have collected sufficient food for meditation. Will Wizard is particularly efficient in adding to the stock of originals which frequent our house : for he is one of the most inveterate hunters of oddities I ever knew ; and his first care, on making a new acquaintance, is to gallant him to old Cock- loft's, where he never fails to receive the freedom of the house in a pinch from his gold box. Will has, without exception, the queerest, most eccentric, and indescribable set of intimates that ever man possessed ; how he became acquainted with them I cannot conceive, except by supposing there is a secret attrac- tion or unintelligible sympathy that unconsciously draws to- gether oddities of every soil. WiU's great crony for some time was Tom Straddle, to whom he reaUy took a great liking. Straddle had just arrived in an importation of hardware, fresh from the city of Birmingham, or rather, as the most learned English would caU it, Brumma- gem^ so famous for its manufactories of gimblets, pen-knives, and pepper-boxes ; and where they make buttons and beaux enough to inundate our whole country. He was a young man of considerable standing in the manufactory at Birmingham, sometimes had the honour to hand his master's daughter into a tim- whiskey, was the oracle of the tavern he frequented on Sundays, and could beat all his associates, if you would take his word for it, in boxing, beer-drinking, jumping over chairs, and imitating cats in a gutter and opera singers. Straddle was, moreover, a member of a Catch-club, and was a great hand at ringing bob-majors; he was, of course, a complete con- noisseur of music, and entitled to assume that character at all performances in the art. He was Hkewise a member of a Spouting-club, had seen a company of strolHng actors perform in a bam, and had even, like Abel Drugger, " enacted" the part of Major Sturgeon with considerable applause^ he was conse- quently a profound critic, and fully authorized to turn up his nose at any American performances. — He had twice partaken of annual dinners, given to the head manufacturers of Birming- ham, where he had the good fortune to get a taste of turtle and turbot ; and a smack of Champaign and Burgundy ; and he 146 SALMAGUNDI. had heard a vast deal of the roast beef of Old England ; he was therefore epicure sufficient to d n every dish, and every glass of wine, he tasted in America ; though at the same time he was as voracious an animal as ever crossed the Atlantic. Straddle had been splashed half a dozen times by the carriages of nobiUty, and had once the superlative felicity of being kicked out of doors by the footman of a noble Duke ; he could, therefore, talk of nobility and despise the untitled plebeians of America. In short, Straddle was one of those dapper, bustling, florid, round, self-important " gremmew" who bounce upon us half beau, half button-maker; undertake to give us the true polish of the bon-ton, and endeavour to inspire us with a pro- per and dignified contempt of our native country. Straddle was quite in raptures when his employers deter- mined to send him to America as an agent. He considered himself as going among a nation of barbarians, where he would be received as a prodigy ; he anticipated, with a proud satisfac- tion, the bustle and confusion his arrival would occasion ; the crowd that would throng to gaze at him as he passed through the streets ; and had little doubt but that he should occasion as much curiosity as an Indian-chief or a Turk in the streets of Birmingham. He had heard of the beauty of our women, and chuckled at the thought of how completely he should echpse their unpolished beaux, and the number of despairing lovers that would mourn the hour of his arrival. I am even informed by Will Wizard that he put good store of beads, spike-nails, and looking-glasses in his trimk to win the affections of the fair ones as they paddled about in their bark canoes; — the rea- son Will gave for this error of Straddle's, respecting our ladies, was, that he had read in Guthrie's Geography that the abo- rigines of America were all savages, and not exactly under- standing the word aborigines, he applied to one of his fellow apprentices, who assured him that it was the Latin word for inhabitants. Wizard used to teU another anecdote of Straddle, which always put him in a passion ; Will swore that the captain of the ship told him, that when Straddle heard they were off the banks of Newfoundland, he insisted upon going on shore there to gather some good cabbages, of which he was excessively fond ; Straddle, however, denied all this, and declared it to be a misQ^ievous quiz of Will Wizard ; who indeed often made himself merry at his expense. However this may be, certain it is, he kept his tailor and shoemaker constantly employed for SALMAGUNDI. 147 a month before his departure ; equipped himself with a smart crooked stick about eighteen inches long, a pair of breeches of most unheard-of length, a little short pair of Hoby's white- topped boots, that seemed to stand on tip-toe to reach liis breeches, and his hat had the true trans-atlantic decHnation towards his right ear. The fact was, nor did he make any se- cret of it— he was determined to " astonish the natives afewP^ Straddle was not a little disappointed on his arrival, to find the Americans were rather more civihzed than he had imag- ined ; — he was suffered to walk to his lodgings unmolested by a crowd, and even unnoticed by a single mdividual ; — no love- letters came pouring in upon him ; no rivals lay in wait to assassinate him ; his very dress excited no attention, for there were many fools dressed equally ridiculously with himself. This was mortifying indeed to an aspiring youth, who had come out with the idea of astonishing and captivating. He was equally unfortunate in his pretensions to the char- acter of critic, connoisseur, and boxer; he condemned our whole dramatic corps, and everything appertaining to the theatre ; but his critical abihties were ridiculed— he found fault with old Cockloft's dinner, not even sparing his wine, and was never invited to the house afterwards;— he scoured the streets at night, and was cudgelled by a sturdy watchman ;-^he hoaxed an honest mechanic, and was soundly kicked. Thus disap- pointed in all his attempts at notoriety. Straddle hit on the ex- pedient which was resorted to by the Giblets — he determined to take the town by storm. — He accordingly bought horses and equipages, and forthwith made a furious dash at style in a gig and tandem. As Straddle's finances were but limited, it may easily be sup- posed that his fashionable career infringed a Httle upon his con- signment, which was indeed the case, for, to use a true cockney phrase, Brummagem suffered. But this was a circumstance that made little impression upon Straddle, who was now a lad of spirit, and lads of spirit always despise the sordid cares of keeping another man's money. Suspecting this circumstance, I never could witness any of his exhibitions of style, without some whimsical association of ideas. Did he give an entertain- ment to a host of guzzling friends, I immediately fancied them gormandizing heartily at the expense of poor Birmingham, and swallowing a consignment of hand-saws and razors. Did I behold him dashing through Broadway in his gig, I saw him, "in my mind's eye," driving tandem on a nest of tea-boards; 148 8ALMA0UNDL nor could I ever contemplate his cockney exhibitions of horse- manship, but my mischievous imagination would picture him spurring a cask of hardware like rosy Bacchus bestriding a • beer barrel, or the little gentleman who bestraddlea the world in the front of Hutching's almanac. Straddle was equally successful with the Griblets, as may well be supposed ; for though pedestrian merit may strive in vain to become fashionable in Gotham, yet a candidate in an equipage is always recognized, and hke Philip's ass, laden with gold, will gain admittance every where. Mounted in his curricle or his gig, the candidate is like a statue elevated on a high pedestal ; his merits are discernible from afar, and strike the dullest optics. Oh! Gotham, Gotham! most enhghtened of cities ! — how does my heart swell with delight when I be- hold your sapient inhabitants lavishing their attention with such wonderful discernment ! Thus Straddle became quite a man of ton, and was caressed, and courted, and invited to dinners and balls. Whatever was absurd and ridiculous in him before, was now declared to be the style. He criticised our theatre, and was listened to with reverence. He pronounced our musical entertainments bar- barous ; and the judgment of Apollo himself would not have been more decisive. H^ abused our dinners ; and the god of eating, if there be any such deity, seemed to speak through his organs. He became at once a man of taste, for he put his malediction on every thing; and his arguments were conclus- ve, for he supported every assertion with a bet. He was like- wise pronounced, by tEe learned in the fashionable world, a young man of great research and deep observation ; for he had sent home, as natural curiosities, an ear of Indian corn, a pair of moccasons, a belt of wampum, and a four-leaved clover. He had taken great pains to enrich this curious collection with an Indian, and a cataract, but without success. In fine, the peo- ple talked of Straddle and his equipage, and Straddle talked of his horses, until it was impossible for the most critical observer to pronounce, whether Straddle or his horses were most ad- mired, or whether Straddle admired himself or his horses most. Straddle was now in the zenith of his glory. He swaggered about parlours and drawing-rooms Avith the same unceremoni- ous confidence he used to display in the taverns at Birming- ham. He accosted a lady "as he would a bar-maid, and this was pronounced a certain proof that he had been used to bet- ter company in Birmingham. He became the great man of aU SALMAGUNDI. 149 the taverns between New- York and Harlem, and no one stood a chance of being accommodated, until Straddle and his horses were perfectly satisfied. He d d the landlords and waiters, with the best air in the world, and accosted them with the true gentlemanly familiarity. He staggered from the dinner table to the play, entered the box Hke a tempest, and staid long enough to be bored to death, and to bore all those who had the misfortune to be near him. From thence he dashed off to a ball, time enough to flounder through a cotillion, tear half a dozen gowns, commit a number of other depredations, and make the whole company sensible of his infinite condescension in coming amongst them. The people of Gotham thought him. a prodigious fine fellow; the young bucks cultivated his acquaintance with the most persevering assiduity, and his retainers were sometimes complimented with a seat in his cur- ricle, or a ride on one of his fine horses. The belles were dehghted with the attentions of such a fashionable gentleman, and struck with astonishment at his learned distinctions be- tween wrought scissors and those of cast-steel ; together with his profound dissertations on buttons and horse-flesh. The rich merchants courted his acquaintance because he was an Enghshman, and their wives treated him with great deference, because he had come from beyond seas. I cannot help here obsei-ving, that your salt water is a marvellous great sharpener of men's wits, and I intend to recommend it to some of my acquaintances in a particular essay. Straddle continued his brilliant career for only a short time. His prosperous journey over the turnpike, of fashion was checked by some of those stumbling-blocks in the way of aspir- ing youth, called creditors— or duns ;— a race of people, who, as a celebrated writer observes, " are hated by gods and men." Consignments slackened, whispers of distant suspicion floated in the dark, and those pests of society, the tailors and shoe- makers, rose in rebellion against Straddle. In vain were all his remonstrances, in vain did he prove to them that though he had given them no money, yet he had given them more custom, and as many promises, as any young man in the city. They were inflexible, and the signal of danger being given, a host of other prosecutors pounced upon his back. Straddle saw there was but one way for it ; he determined to do the thing genteelly, to go to smash like a hero, and dashed into the limits in high style, being the fifteenth gentleman I have known to drivr.tandem t,o t]^e— ne plus ultra—the d 1. 150 SALMAGUNDI. Unfortunate Straddle ! may thy fate be a warning to , all young gentlemen who come out from Birmingham to aston- ish the natives! — I should never have taken the trouble to dilineate his character had he not been a genuine cockney, and worthy to be the representative of his numerous tribe. Perhaps my simple countrymen may hereafter be able to distinguish between the real Enghsh gentleman, and indi- viduals of the cast I have heretofore spoken of, as mere mon- grels, springing at one bound from contemptible obscurity at home, to day-hght and splendour in this good-natured land. The true-bom and true-bred English gentleman is a character I hold in great respect ; and I love to look back to the period when our forefathers flourished in the same generous soil, and hailed each other as brothers. But the cockney !— when I con- template him as springing too from the same source, I feel ashamed of the relationship, and am tempted to deny my ori- gin. In the character of Straddle is traced the complete out- hne of a true cockney, of Enghsh growth, and a descendant of that individual facetious character mentioned by Shakspeare, ^''wtio in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.''^ TEE STRANGER AT HOME; or, A TOUR IN BROAD- WAY. by jeremy cockloft, the younger. Preface. Your learned traveller begins his travels at the commence- ment of his journey; others begin theirs at the end; and a third class begin any how and any where, which I think is the true way. A late facetious writer begins what he calls ' ' a Pic- ture of New York," with a particular description of Glen's Falls, from whence with admirable dexterity he makes a digression to the celebrated Mill Rock, on Long-Island ! Now this is what I like ; and I intend, in my present tour, to digress as often and as long as I please. If, therefore, I choose to make a hop, skip, and jump, to China, or New-Holland, or Terra Incognita, or ComnaunipaYT, 1^ can, produce a host of BALMAGUNDL 151 examples to justify me, even in books that have been praised by the EngHsh reviewers, whose jiat being all that is necessary to give books a currency in this country, I am determined, as soon as I finish my edition of travels in seventy-five volumes, to transmit it forthwith to them for judgment. If these trans- atlantic censors praise it, I have no fear of its success in this country, where their approbation gives, like the tower stamp, a fictitious value, and makes tinsel and wampum pass current for classic gold. Chapter I. Battery— flag-staff kept by Louis Keaffee — Eeaffee main- tains two spy-glasses by subscriptions— merchants pay two shillings a-year to look through them at the signal poles on Staten-Island— a very pleasant prospect ; but not so pleasant as that from the hill of Howth— quere, ever been there? — Young seniors go down to the flag-staff to buy peanuts and beer, after the fatigue of tl^eir morning studies, and sometimes to play at ball, or some other innocent amusement— digression to the Olympic, and Isthmian games, with a description of the Isthmus of Corinth, and that of Darien : to conclude with a dis- sertation on the Indian custom of offering a whiff of tobacco smoke to their great spirit, Areskou.— Return to the battery— dehghtful place to indulge in the luxury of sentiment— How various are the mutations of this world ! but a few days, a few hours— at least not above two hundred years ago, and this spot was inhabited by a race of aborigines, who dwelt in bark huts, Hved upon oysters and Indian corn, danced buffalo dances, and were lords " of the fowl and the brute" — but the spirit of time and the spirit of brandy have swept them from their ancient inheritance ; and as the white wave of the ocean, by its ever toiling assiduity, gains on the brown land, so the white man, by slow and sure degrees, has gained on the brown savage, and dispossessed him of the land of his forefathers.— Conjectures on the first peophng of America— different opin- ions on that subject, to the amount of near one hundred — opinion of Augustine Torniel— that they are the descendants of Shem and Japheth, who came by the way of Japan to America— Juffridius Petri says they came from Friezeland, mem. cold journey. —Mons. Charron says they are descended from the Gauls— bitter enough.— A. Mihus, from the Celtse— Kircher, from the Egyptians— L'Compte, from the Phenicians 152 SALMAGUNDI. — Lescarbot, from the Canaanites, alias the Anthropophagi— Brerewood from the Tartars — Grotius, from the Norwegians— and Linkum Fidelius has written two foho volumes to prove that America was first of all peopled either by the Antipodeans or the Cornish miners, who, he maintains, might easily have made a subterraneous passage to this country, particularly the antipodeans, who, he asserts, can get along under ground as fast as moles— quere, which of these is in the right, or are they all wrong? — For my part, I don't see why America had not as good a right to be peopled at first, as any Mttle contemptible country in Europe, or Asia, and I am determined to write a book at my first leisure, to prove that Noah was born here— and that so far is America from being indebted to any other country for inhabitants, that they were every one of them peopled by colonies from her !— mem. battery a very pleasant place to walk on a Sunday evening— not quite genteel though —everybody w£dks there, and a pleasure, however genuine, is spoiled by general participation— the fashionable ladies of New^ York turn up their noses if you ask them to walk on the bat- tery on Sunday— quere, have they scruples of conscience, or scruples of delicacy?— neither— they have only scruples of gen- tility, which are quite different things. Chapter II. Custom-house— origin of duties on merchandise — this place much frequented by merchants— and why? — different classes of merchants— importers— a kind of nobility— wholesale mer- chants—have the privilege of going to the city assembly! — Eetail traders cannot go to the assembly. — Some curious speculations on the vast distinction betwixt selling tape by the piece or by the yard. — Wholesale merchants) look down upon the retailers, who in return look down upon the green-grocers, who look down upon the market women, who don't care a straw about any of them.— Origin of the distinctions of rank ^Dr. Johnson once horribly puzzled to settle the point of pre- cedence between a louse and a flea — good hint enough to humble, purse-proud arrogance. — Custom-house partly used as a lodging house for the pictures belonging to the academy of arts— couldn't afford the statues house-room, most of them in the cellar of the City-hall— poor place for the gods and godesses — after Olympus. -^Pensive reflections on the uns and SALuMA G UNDL 153 downs of life— Apollo, and the rest of the set, used to cut a great figure in days of yore.— Mem. every dog has his day- sorry for Venus, though, poor wench, to be cooped up in a cellar with not a siagle grace to wait on her! — Eulogy on the gentlemen of the academy of arts, for the great spirit with which they began the undertaking, and the perseverance with which they have pursued it.— It is a pity, however, they began at the wrong end — maxim— If you want a bird and a cage, always buy the cage first— hem ! a word to the wise? Chapter III. Bowling-Green — fine place for pasturing cows — a perqui- site of the late corporation — formerly ornamented with a statue of George the 3d— people pulled it down in the war to make bullets— great pity, as it might have been given to the academy— it would have become a cellar as well as any other. — Broadway — great difference in the gentility of streets — a man who resides in Pearl-street or Chatham-row, derives no kind of dignity from his domicil ; but place him in a certain part of Broadway, anywhere between the battery and WaU-street, and he straightway becomes entitled to figure in the beau monde, and strut as a person of prodigious consequence! — Quere, whether there is a degree of purity in the air of that quarter which changes the gross particles of vulgarity into gems of re- finement and pohsh? — A question to be asked, but not to be answered— Wall-street — City-hall, famous place for catch- poles, deputy-sheriffs, and young lawyers ; which last attend the courts, not because they have business there but because they have no business any where else. My blood always cur- dles when I see a catch-pole, they being a species of vermin, who feed and fatten on the common wretchedness of mankind, who trade in misery, and in becoming the executioners of the law, by their oppression and villainy, almost counterbalance all the benefits which are derived from its salutary regulations —Story of Quevedo about a catch-pole possessed by a devil, who, on being interrogated, declared that he did not come there voluntarily, but by compulsion ; and that a decent devil would never, of his own free will enter into the body of a catch-pole; instead, therefore, of doing him the injustice to say that here was a catch-pole be-deviled, they should say, it was a devil be-catch-poled ; that being in reaUty the truth— 154 SALMAOUNBI. Wonder what has become of the old crier of the court, who used to make more noise in preserving silence than the audi- ence did in breaking it — if a man happened to drop his cane, the old hero would sing out ' ' silence !" in a voice that emulated the " wide-mouthed thunder "—On inquiring, found he had re- tired from business to enjoy otium cum dignitate, as many a great man had done before — Strange that wise men, as they are thought, should toil through a whole existence merely to enjoy a few moments of leisure at last ! — why don't they begin to be easy at first, and not purchase a moment's pleasure with an age of pain?— mem. posed some of the jockeys — eh! Chapter IV. Barber's pole; three different orders of shavers in New York — those who shave pigs; N. B. — freshmen and sophomores, —those who cut beards, and those who shave notes of hand; the last are the most respectable, because, in the course of a year, they make more money, and that honestly, than the whole corps of other shavers can do in half a century; besides, it would puzzle a common barber to ruin any man, except by cutting his throat ; whereas your higher order of shavers, your true blood-suckers of the community, seated snugly behind the curtain, in watch .for prey, live on the vitals of the unfortu- nate, and grow rich on the ruins of thousands. — Yet this last class of barbers are held in high respect in the world; they never offend against the decencies of life, go often to church, look down on honest poverty walking on foot, and call them- selves gentlemen; yea, men of honour! — Lottery offices — another set of capital shavers! — licensed gambling houses! — good things enough though, as they enable a few honest, in- dustrious gentlemen to humbug the people— according to law; —besides, if the people will be such fools, whose fault is it but their own if they get 5*^?— Messrs. Paff— beg pardon for putting them in bad company, because they are a couple of fine fellows ^mem. to recommend Michael's antique snuff box to all ama- teurs in the ar#.— Eagle singing Yankee-doodle— N. B.— Buffon, Penant, and the rest of the naturalists, all naturals not to know the eagle was a singing bird; Linkum Fidelius knew better, and gives a long description of a bald eagle that sere- naded him once in Canada ; — digression ; particular account of the Canadian Indians; — story about Areskou learning to make fishing nets of a spider — don't beheve it though, because, SALMAGUNDI 155 according to Linkum, and many other learned authorities, Areskou is the same as Mars^ being derived from his Greek names of Ares; and if so, he knew well enough what a net was without consulting a spider ;— story of Arachne being changed into a spider as a reward for having hanged herself; — deri- vation of the word spinster from spider;— Colophon, now Al- tobosco, the birthplace of Arachne, remarkable for a famous breed of spiders to this day ;— mem. — nothing like a little schol- arship—make the ignoramus^ viz., the majority of my readers, stare like wild pigeons; — return to New- York a short cut- meet a dashing belie, in a little thick white veil — tried to get a peep at her face— saw she squinted a little — thought so at first ; — never saw a face covered with a veil that was worth looking at ; — saw some ladies holding a conversation across the street about going to church next Sunday— talked so loud they frightened a cartman's horse, who ran away, and overset a basket of gingerbread with a httle boy under it;— mem.— I don't much see the use of speaking-triunpets now-a-days. Chapter V. Bought a pair of gloves ; dry -good stores the genuine schools of politeness— true Parisian manners there -got a pair of gloves and a pistareen's worth of bows for a dollar— dog cheap ! — Courtlandt-street corner — famous place to see the belles go by — quere, ever been shopping with a lady ?— some account of it — ladies go into all the shops in the city to buy a pair of gloves- good way of spending time, if they have nothing else to do.— Oswego-market — looks very much like a triumphal arch— some account of the manner of erecting them in ancient times ;— di- gression to the arc/i-duke Charles, and some account of the ancient Germans.— N. B. — quote Tacitus on this subject.— Par- ticular description of market-baskets, butcher's blocks, and wheelbarrows ;— mem. queer things run upon one wheel !— Saw a cart-man driving fuU-tilt through Broadway— ran over a child— good enough for it — what business had it to be in the way?— Hint concerning the laws against pigs, goats, dogs, and cartmen— grand apostrophe to the sublime science of jurispru- dence ;— comparison between legislators and tinkers; quere, whether it requires greater ability to mend a law than to mend a kettle?— inquiry into the utility of making laws that are broken a hundred times a day with impunity ;— my lord Coke's opinion on the subject;— my lord a very great man— so was 156 SALMAGUNDI. lord Bacon \ good story about a criminal named Hog claiming relationship with him. — Hogg's porter-house; — great haimt of Will Wizard ; Will put down there one night by a sea-captain, in an argument concerning the era of the Chinese empire Whangpo ; — Hogg's capital place for hearing the same stories, the same jokes, and the same songs every night in the year— mem. except Sunday nights ; fine school for young politicians too— some of the longest and thickest heads in the city come there to settle the nation. — Scheme of Ichabod Fungus to restore the balance of Europe ;— digression ; — some account of the balance of Europe ; comparison between it and a pair of scales, with the Emperor Alexander in one and the Emperor Napoleon in the other: fine fellows— both of a weight, can't tell which will kick the beam: — mem. don't care much either — nothing to me : — Ichabod very unhappy about it — thinks Na- poleon has an eye on this country— capital place to pasture his horses, and provide for the rest of his family :—Dey-street — ancient Dutch name of it, signifying murderers' valley, for- merly the site of a great peach orchard; my grandmother's history of the famous Peach ivar— arose from an Indian steal- ing peaches out of this orchard; good cause as need be for a war ; just as good as the balance of power. Anecdote of a war between two Italian states about a bucket; introduce some capital new truisms about the folly of mankind, the ambition of kings, potentates, and princes; particularly Alexander, Csesar, Charles the Xllth, Napoleon, little King Pepin, and the great Charlemagne. — Conclude with an exhortation to the present race of sovereigns to keep the king's peace and abstain from all those deadly quarrels which produce battle, murder, and sudden death : mem. ran my nose against a lamp-post — conclude in great dudgeon. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Our cousin Pindar, after having been confined for some time past with a fit of the gout, which is a kind of keepsake in our family, has again set his mill going, as my readers will perceive. On reading his piece I could not help smiling at the high compliments which, contrary to his usual style, he has lavished on the dear sex. The old gentleman, unfortunately SALMAGUNDI 157 observing my merriment, stimaped out of the room with great vociferation of crutch, and has not exchanged three words with me since. I expect every hour to hear that he has packed up his movables, and, as usual in all cases of disgust, retreated to his old country house. Pindar, like most of the old Cockloft heroes, is wonderfully susceptible to the genial influence of warm weather. In winter he is one of the most crusty old bachelors under heaven, and is wickedly addicted to sarcastic reflections of every kind ; particularly on the little enchanting foibles and whim-whams of women. But when the spring comes on, and the mild influence of the sun releases nature from her icy fetters, the ice of his bosom dissolves into a gentle current which,reflects the bewitching qualities of the tafr ; as in some mild clear evening, when nature reposes in silence, the stream bears in its pure bosom all the starry magnificence of heaven. It is under the control of this influence he has written his piece ; and I beg the ladies, in the plenitude of their harnfless conceit, not to flatter themselves that because the good Pindar has suffered them to escape his censures he had nothing more to censure. It is but sunshine and zephyrs which have wrought this wonderful change ; and I am much mistaken if the first north-easter don't convert all his good nature into most exquisite spleen. FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. How often I cast my reflections behind. And call up the days of past youth to my mind, When f oUy assafls in habihments new, When fashion obtrudes some fresh whim- wham to view; When the fopHngs of fashion bedazzle my sight, Bewilder my feelings— my senses benight; I retreat in disgust from the world of to-day, To commune with the world that has moulder'd away; To converse with the shades of those friends of my love, Long gather'd in peace to the angels above. In my rambles through life should I meet with annoy. From the bold beardless stripling — the turbid pert boy. One rear'd in the mode lately reckon'd genteel, Which neglecting the head, aims to perfect the heel; 158 SALMAGUNDI. Which completes the sweet f opling while yet in his teens, And fits him for fashion's light changeable scenes ; Proclaims him a man to the near and the far, Can he dance a cotilhon or smoke a segar ; And though brainless and vapid as vapid can be, To routs and to parties pronounces him free : — Oh, I think on the beaux that existed of yore, On those rules of the ton that exist now no more I I recall with dehght how each yonker at first In the cradle of science and virtue was nursed: — How the graces of person and graces of mind, The pohsh of learning and fashion combined, Till softened in manners and strengthened in head, By the classical lore of the hving and dead, Matured in his person till manly in size. He then was presented a beau to our eyes I My nieces of late have made frequent complaint That they suffer vexation and painful constraint By having their circles too often distrest By some three or four goslings just fledged from the nest, Who, propp'd by the credit their fathers sustain, Alike tender in years and in person and brain, But plenteously stock'd with that substitute, brass, For true wits and critics would anxiously pass. They complain of that empty sarcastical. slang, So common to all the coxcombical gang. Who the fair with their shallow experience vex. By thinimming for ever their weakness of sex ; And who boast of themselves, when they tails: with proud air Of Man's mental ascendancy over the fair. 'Twas thus the young owlet produced in the nest. Where the eagle of Jove her young eaglets had prest, Pretended to boast of his royal descent. And vaunted that force which to eagles is lent. Though fated to shun with his dim visual ray, The cheering deUghts and the brilliance of day ; To forsake the fair regions of sether and light, For dull moping caverns of darkness and night : Still talk'd of that eagle-like strength of the eye, Which approaches unwinking the pride of the sky, Of that wing which unwearied can hover and play In the noon-tide effulgence and torrent of day. SALMAGUNDI. 159 Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain, Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain, 'Tis the commonplace jest of the nursery scape-goat, 'Tis the commonplace ballad that croaks from his throat ; He knows not that nature— that pohsh decrees, That women should always endeavour to please. That the law of their system has early imprest The importance of fitting themselves to each guest ; And, of course, that Ml oft when ye trifle and play, 'Tis to gratify triflers who strut in your way. The child might as well of its mother complain, As wanting true wisdom and soundness of brain : Because that, at times, while it hangs on her breast, She with " lulla-by-baby" beguiles it to rest. 'Tis its weakness of mind that induces the strain, For wisdom to infants is prattled in vain. 'Tis true at odd times, when in frolicsome fit. In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit May start some hght foible that clings to the fair Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare,— In the play of his fancy will sportively say Some dehcate censure that pops in his way. He may smile at your fashions, and frankly express His dishke of a dance, or a flaming red dress ; Yet he blames not your want of man's physical force, Nor complains though ye cannot in Latin discourse. He dehghts in the language of nature ye speak. Though not so refined as true classical Greek. He remembers that Providence never design'd Our females like suns to bewilder and blind ; But like the mild orb of pale ev'ning serene, Whose radiance illumines, yet softens the scene. To hght us with cheering and welcoming ray. Along the rude path when the sun is away. I own in my scribbhngs I lately have nam'd Some faults of our fair which I gently have blam'd, But be it for ever by all understood My censures were only pronounc'd for their good. I dehght in the sex, 'tis the pride of my mind To consider them gentle, endearing, refin'd ; As our solace below in the journey of Hfe, To smooth its rough passes ;— to soften its strife : 160 BALMAQUNDL As objects intended our joys to supply, And to lead us in love to the temples on high. How oft have I felt, when two lucid blue eyes, As calm and as bright as the gems of the skies, Have beam'd their soft radiance into my soul, Impress'd with an awe like an angel's control ! Yes, fair ones, by this is for ever defin'd The fop from the man of refinement and mind ; The latter beheves ye in bounty were given As a bond upon earth of our union with heaven: And if ye are weak, and are frail, in his view, * 'Tis to call forth fresh warmth and his fondness renew. 'Tis his joy to support these defects of your frame. And his love at your weakness redoubles its flame : He rejoices the gem is so rich and so fair, And is proud that it claims his protection and care. SALMAQUMDL * 161 NO. XIII.-FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-OHAIR. I "WAS not a little perplexed, a short time since, by the eccen- tric conduct of my knowing coadjutor. Will Wizard. For two or three days, he was completely in a quandary. He would come into old Cockloft's parlour ten times a day, swing- ing his ponderous legs along with his usual vast strides, clap his hands into his sides, contemplate the httle shepherdesses: on the mantel-piece for a few minutes, whistling all the while, and then sally out full sweep, without uttering a word. To be sure, a pish or a pshaw occasionally escaped him ; and he was observed once to pull out his enormous tobacco-box, drum for a moment upon its lid with his knuckles, and then return it into his pocket without taking a quid:— 'twas evident Will was full of some mighty idea : — not that his restlessness was any way uncommon ; for I have often seen Will throw himself ahnost into a fever of heat and fatigue— doing nothing. But his inflexible taciturnity set the whole family, as usual a won- deriug: as Will seldom enters the house without giving one of his "one thousand and one" stories. For my part, I began to think that the late fracas at Canton had alarmed Will for the safety of his friends Kinglun, Chinqua, and Consequa; or, that something had gone wrong in the alterations of the thea- tre—or that some new outrage at Norfolk had put him in a orry ; in short, I did not know what to think ; for WiQ i s such an universal busy-body, and meddles so much in every thing going forward, that you might as well attempt to con- jecture what i§ going on in the north star, as in his precious pericranium. Even Mrs. Cockloft, who, like a worthy woman as she is, seldom troubles herself about any thing in this world — saving the affairs of her household, and the correct deport- ment of her female friends — was struck with the mystery of 162 SALMAGUNDI. Will's behaviour. She happened, when he came in and went- out the tenth time, to be busy darning the bottom of one of the old red damask chairs ; and notwithstanding this is to her an affair of vast importance, yet she could not help turning round and exclaiming, "I wonder what can be the matter with Mr. Wizard ?" " Nothing," repHed old Christopher, " only we shall' have an eruption soon." The old lady did not under- stand a word of this, neither did she care ; she had expressed her wonder ; and that, with her, is always sufficient. I am so well acquainted with Will's peculiarities that I can tell, even by his whistle, when he is about an essay for our paper as certainly as a weather wiseacre knows that it is going to rain when he sees a pig run squeaking about with his nose in the wind. I, therefore, laid my account with receiving a communication from him before long^ and sure enough, the evening before last I distinguished his free-mason knock at my door. I have seen many wise men in my time, philoso- phers, mathematicians, astronomers, pohticians, editors and almanac makers ; but never did I see a man look half so wise as did my friend Wizard on entering the room. Had Lavater beheld him at that moment he would have set him down, to a certainty, as a fellow who had just discovered the longitude or the philosopher's stone. Without saying a word, he handed me a roll of paper ; after which he lighted his segar, sat down, crossed his legs, folded his arms, and elevating his nose to an angle of about forty-five degrees, began to smoke like a steam engine ; — Will delights in the picturesque. On opening his budget, and perceiving the motto, it struck me that Will had brought me one of his con- founded Chinese manuscripts, and I was forthwith going to dismiss it with indignation ; but accidentally seeing the name of our oracle, the sage Lmkum, of whose inestimable folios we pride ourselves upon being the sole possessors, I began to think the better of it, and looked round to Will to express my appro-, bation. I shall never forget the figure he cut at that moment ! He had watched my countenance, on opening his manuscript, with the argus eyes of an author : and perceiving some tokens of disapprobation, began, according to custom, to puff away at his segar with such vigour that in a few minutes he had en- tirely involved himself in smoke : except his nose and one foot, which were just visible, the latter wagging with great velocity. I believe I have hinted before— at least I ought to have done so — that Will's nose is a very goodly nose ; to which it may be SALMAGUNDI 163 as well to add, that in his voyages under the tropics, it has ac- quired a copper complexion, which renders it very brilliant and luminous. You may imagine what a sumptuous appear- ance it made, projecting boldly, like the celebrated promonto- rium nasidium at Samos with a Hght-house upon it, and sur- rounded on all sides with smoke and vapour. Had my gravity been like the Chinese philosopher's ' ' within one degree of ab- solute frigidity," here would have been a trial for it.— I could not stand it, but burst into such a laugh as I do not indulge in above once in a hundred years ; — this was too much for Will ; he emerged from his cloud, threw his segar into the fire-place, and strode out of the room, pulling up his breeches, muttering something which, I verily beheve, was nothing more than a horrible long Chinese malediction. He, however, left his manuscript behind him, which I now give to the world. Whether he is serious on the occasion, or only bantering, no one, I beheve, can tell: for, whether in speaking or writing, there is such an invincible gravity in his demeanour and style, that even I, who have studied him as closely as an antiquarian studies an old manuscript or inscrip- tion, am frequently at a loss to know what the rogue would be at. I have seen him indulge in his favourite amusement of quizzing for hours together, without any one having the least suspicion of the matter, until he would suddenly twist his phiz into an expression that baffles all description, thrust his tongue in his cheek and blow up in a laugh almost ^as loud as the shout of the Romans on a certain occasion ; which honest Plutarch avers frightened several crows to such a degree that they fell down stone dead into the Campus Martins. Jeremy Cockloft the younger, who like a true modern philosopher delights in experiments that are of no kind of use, took the trouble to measure one of Will's risible explosions, and declared to me that, according to accurate measurement, it contained thirty feet square of soHd laughter : — what will the professors say to this? 164 SALMAGUlSDl. PLANS FOR DEFENDING OUR HARBOUR. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. Long-fong teko buzz tor-pe-do, Fudge —Confucius. ' We'll blow the villains all sky high; But do it with econo my. —Link. Fid. SuRELYxever was a town more subject to mid-summer fan- cies and dog-day whim-whams, than this most excellent of cities ;— our notions, hke our diseases, seem all epidemic; and no sooner does a new disorder or a new freak seize one individ- ual but it is sure to run through all the community. This is particularly the case when the summer is at the hottest, and every body's head is in a vertigo and his brain in a ferment ; 'tis absolutely necessary then the poor souls should have some bubble to amuse themselves with, or they would certainly run mad. Last year the poplar worm made its appearance most fortunately for our citizens ; and every body was so much in horror of being poisoned, and devoured ; and so busied in mak- ing humane experiments on cats and dogs, that we got through the summer quite comfortably ; — the cats had the worst of it ; — every mouser of them was shaved, and there was not a whisker to be seen in the whole sisterhood. This summer every body has had full employment in planning fortifications for our harbour. Not a cobbler or tailor in the city but has left his awl and his thimble, become an engineer outright, and aspired most magnanimously to the building of forts and de- struction of navies !— heavens ! as my friend Mustapha would say, on what a great scale is every thing in this country ! Among the various plans that have been offered, the most conspicuous is one devised and exhibited, as I am informed, by that notable confederacy, the North River Society. Anxious to redeem their reputation from the foul suspicions that have for a long time overclouded it, these aquatic incendi- aries have come forward, at the present alarming juncture, and announced a most potent discovery which is to guarantee our port from the visits of any foreign marauders. The society have, it seems, invented a cunning machine, shrewdly yclep'd a Torpedo; by which the stoutest hue of battle ship, even a SALMAGUNDI. 165 Santissima Trinida'da, may be caught napping and decomposed in a twinkling; a kind of sub-marine powder-magazine to swim under water, like an aquatic mole, or water rat, and de- stroy the enemy in the moments of unsuspicious security. This straw tickled the noses of all our dignitaries wonder- fully ; for to do our government justice, it has no objection to injuring and exterminating its enemies in any manner— pro- vided the thing can be done economically. It was determined the experiment should be tried, and an old brig was purchased, for not more than twice its value, and delivered over into the hands of its tormentors, the North River Society, to be tortured, and battered, and annihilated, secundum artem. A day was appointed for the occasion, when all the good citizens of the wonder-loving city of Gotham were invited to the blowing up ; like the fat inn-keeper in Eabelais, who requested all his customers to come on a certain day and see him burst. As I have almost as great a veneration as the good Mr. Wal- ter Shandy for all kinds of experiments that are ingeniously ridiculous, I made very particular mention of the one in ques- tion, at the table of my friend Christopher Cockloft ; but it put the honest old gentleman in a violent passion. He condemned it in toto, as an attempt to introduce a dastardly and exterminating mode of warfare. ' ' Already have we proceeded far enough, " said he, "in the science of destruction ; war is already invested with sufficient horrors and calamities, let us not increase the catalogue ; let us not by these deadly artifices provoke a sys- tem of insidious and indiscriminate hostility, that shall termin- ate in laying our cities desolate, and exposing our women, our children, and our infirm to the sword of pitiless recrimination." Honest old cavalier ! — it was evident he did not reason as a true jjolitician, — but he felt as a Christian and philanthropist; and that was, perhaps, just as well. It may be readily supposed, that our citizens did not refuse the invitation of the society to the blow-up ; it was the first naval action ever exhibited in our port, and the good people all crowded to see the British navy blown up in effigy. The young ladies were delighted with the novelty of the show, and de- clared that if war could be conducted in this manner, it would become a fashionable amusement; and the destruction of a fleet be as pleasant as a ball or a tea-party. The old folk were equally pleased with the spectacle, — because it cost them noth- ing. Dear souls, how hard was it they should be disappointed ! 166 SALMAGUNDI. the brig most obstinately refused to be decomposed ; the din- ners grew cold, and the puddings were over-boiled, throughout the renowned city of Gotham : and its sapient inhabitants, like the honest Strasburghers, from whom most of them are doubt- less descended, who went out to see the courteous stranger and his nose, all returned home after having threatened to pull down the flag-staff by way of taking satisfaction for their dis- appointment. By the. way, their is not an animal in the world more discriminating in its vengeance than a free-born mob. In the evening I repaired to friend Hogg's to smoke a socia- ble segar, but had scarcely entered the room when I was taken prisoner by my friend, Mr. Ichabod Fungus ; who, I soon saw was at his usual trade of prying into mill-stones. The old gen- tleman informed me, that the brig had actually blown up, after a world of manoeuvring, and had nearly blown up the society with it ; he seemed to entertain strong doubts as to the objects of the society in the invention of these infernal ma- chines ;— hinted a suspicion of their v/ishing to set the river on fire, and that he should not be surprised on waking one of these mornings to find the Hudson in a blaze. "Not that I disapprove of the plan-," said he, "provided it has the end in view which they profess ; no, no, an excellent plan of defence ; — no need of batteries, forts, frigates, and gun-boats ; observe, sir, aU that's necessary is that the ships must come to anchor in a convenient place; — watch must be asleep, or so compla- cent as not to disturb any boats paddhng about them— fair wind and tide— no moonlight — machines well-directed— musn't flash in the plan — bang's the word, and the vessel's blown up in a moment!" " Good," said I, "you remind me of a lubberly Chinese who was flogged by an honest captain of my acquaint- ance, and who, on being advised to retaliate, exclaimed — ' Hi yah ! s'pose two men hold fast him captain, den very mush me bamboo he !' " The old gentleman grew a little crusty, and insisted that I did not understand him ;— all that was requisite to render the effect certain was, that the enemy should enter into the pro- ject ; or, in other words, be agreeable to the measure ; so that if the machine did not come to the ship, the ship should go to the machine ; by which means he thought the success of the machine would be inevitable— provided it struck fire. "But do not you think," said I, doubtingly, "that it would be rather difficult to persuade the enemy into such an agreement? — Some people have an invincible antipathy to being blown up." ' "Not SALMAGUNDI. 167 at all, not at all," replied he, triumphantly; "got an excellent 'notion for that ;— do with them as we have done with the brig ; buy all the vessels we mean to destroy, and blow 'em up as best suits our convenience. I have thought deeply on that subject and have calculated to a certamty, that if our funds hold out we may in this way destroy the whole British navy — by contract." By this time aH the quidnuncs of the room had gathered around us, each pregnant with some mighty .scheme for the sal- vation of his country. — One pathetically lamented that we had no such men among us as the famous Toujoursdort and Grossi- tout; who, when the celebrated captain Tranchemont made war against the city of Kalacahabalaba, utterly discomfited the great king Bigstaff, and blew up his whole army by sneez- ing. — Another unparted a sage idea, which seems to have oc- cupied more heads than one ; that is, that the best way of fortifying the harbour was to ruin it at once ; choke the chan- nel with rocks and blocks ; strew it with cMvaux-de-frises and torpedoes ; and make it hke a nursery-garden, full of men-traps and spring-guns. No vessel would then have the temerity to enter our harbour; we should not even dare to navigate it our- selves. Or if no cheaper way could be devised, let Governor's Island be raised by levers and pulleys — floated with empty casks, &c., towed down to the Narrows, and dropped plump in the very mouth of the harbour!— "But," said I, "would not the prosecution of these whim- whams be rather expensive and dilatory?" " Pshaw !" cried the other— "what's a mil- lion of money to an experiment ; the true spirit of our economy requires that we should spare no expense in discovering the ^cheapest mode of defending ourselves; and then if all these modes should fail, why, you know the worst we have to do is to return to the old-fashioned hum-drum mode of forts and batteries." "By which time," cried I, "the arrival of the enemy may have rendered their erection superfluous." A shrewd old gentleman, who stood hstening by, with a mis- chievously equivocal look, observed that the most effectual mode of repulsing a fleet from our ports would be to admin- ister them a proclamation from time to time, till it operated. Unwilling to leave the company without demonstrating my patriotism and ingenuity, I communicated a plan of defence; which, in truth, was suggested long since by that infalhble oracle Mustapha, who had as clear a head for cobweb-weaving as ever dignified the shoulders of a projector. He thought the 168' SALMAGUNDI. most effectual mode would be to assemble all the slang-whang- ers, great and small, from all parts of the s^te, and marshal them at the battery; where they should be exposed, pomt blank, to the enemy, and form a tremendous body of scolding infantry; siniiilar to the poissards or doughty champions of Billingsgate. They should be exhorted to fire away, without pity or remorse, in sheets, half -sheets, columns, hand-bills, or squibs ; great canon, little canon, pica, german-text, stereotype, and to run their enemies through and through with sharp- pointed italics. They should have orders to show no quarter— to blaze away in their loadest epithets " miscreants!" " 7nur- derers!" ^^barbaHans!" '^piratesr '^robbersP' "Blackguards!" and to do away all fear of consequences, they should be guar- anteed from all dangers of pillory, kicking, cuffing, nose-pull- ing, whipping-post, or prosecution for libels. If, continued Mustapha, you wish men to fight well and valiantly, they must be allowed those weapons they have been used to handle. Your countrymen aVe notoriously adroit in the management of the tongue and the pen, and conduct all their battles by speeches or newspapers. Adopt, therefore, the plan I have pointed oat ; and rely upon it that let any fleet, however large, be but once assailed by this battery of slang- whangers, and if they have not entirely lost the sense of hearing, or a regard for their own characters and feelings, they will, at t he very first fii'e, slip their cables and retreat with as much precipita- tion as if they had unwarily entered into the atmosphere of the Bohan upas. In this manner may your wars be conducted with proper economy ; and it wiU cost no more to drive off a fleet than to write up a party, or write down a bashaw with three tails. The sly old gentleman, I have beforS mentioned, was highly delighted with this plan; and proposed, as an improvement, that mortars should be placed on the battery, which, instead of throwing shells and such trifles, might be charged with newspapers, Tammany addresses, etc., by way of red-hot shot, which would undoubtedly be very potent in blowing up any powder-magazine they might chance to come in contact with. He concluded by informing the company, that in the course of a few evenings he would have the honour to present them with a scheme for loading certain vessels with newspapers, resolu- tions of "numerous and respectable meetings," and other com- bustibles, which vessels were to be blown directly in the midst of the enemy by the bellows of the slang- whangers ; and he SALMAGUNDI. 169 was much mistaken if they would not be more fatal than fire- ships, bomb-ketches, gun-boats, or even torpedoes. These are but two or three specimens of the nature and effi- cacy of the innumerable plans with which this city abounds. Every body seems charged to the muzzle with gunpowder, — every eye flashes fireworks and torpedoes, and every corner is occupied by knots of inflammatory projectors; not one of whom but. has some preposterous mode of destruction which he has proved to be infallible by a previous experiment in a tub of water ! - Even Jeremy Cockloft has caught the infection, to the great annoyance of the inhabitants of Cockloft-hall, av hither he re- tired to make his experiments undisturbed. At one time all the mirrors in the house were unhung, —their collected rays thrown into the hot-house, to try Archimedes' plan of burning glasses ; and the honest old gardener was almost knocked down by what he mistook for a stroke of the sun, but which turned out to be nothing more than a sudden attack of one of these tremendous jack-o'-lanterns. It became dangerous to walk through the court-yard for fear of an explosion ; and the whole family was thrown into absolute distress and consternation by a letter from the old housekeeper to Mrs. Cockloft ; informing her of his having blown up a favourite Chinese gander, which I had brought from Canton, as he was majestically sailing in the duck-pond. "In the multitude of counsellors there is safety;"— if so, the defenceless city of Gotham has nothing to apprehend ;— but much do I fear that so many excellent and infallible projects wfll be presented, that we shall be at a loss which to adopt ; and the peaceable inhabitants fare like a famous projector of my acquaintance, whose house was unfortunately plundered while he was contriving a patent lock to secure his door. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. A EETEOSPECT; or, "WHAT YOU WILL." Lolling in my elbow-chair this fine summer noon, I feel myself insensibly yielding to that genial feeling of indolence the season is so well fitted to inspire. Every one who is blessed 170 SALMA UNDL with a little of the delicious languor of disposition that delights in repose, must often have sported among the fairy scenes, the golden visions, the voluptuous reveries, that swim before the imagination at such moments, and which so much resemble those blissful sensations a Mussulman enjoys after his favourite indulgence of opium, which Will Wizard declares can be com- pared to nothing but "swimming in an ocean of peacocks' feathers. In such a mood, every body must be insensible it would be idle and unprofitable for a man to send his wits a-gad ■ ding on a voyage of discovery into futurity ; or even to trouble himself with a laborious investigation of what is actually pass- ing under his eye. We are at such times more disposed to re- sort to the pleasures of memory than to those of the imagina- tion ; and, like the wayfaring traveller, reclining for a moment on his staff, had rather contemplate the ground we have travelled, than the region which is yet before us. I could here amuse myself and stultify my readers with a most elaborate and ingenious parallel between authors and travellers ; but in this balmy season which makes men stupid and dogs mad, and when doubtless many of our most strenuous admirers have great difficulty in keeping awake through the day, it would be cruel to saddle them with the formidable diffi- culty of putting two ideas together and drawing a conclusion ; or in the learned phrase, forging syllogisms in Baroco: — a terrible undertaking for the dog days ! to say the truth, my observations were only intended to prove that this, of all others, is the most auspicious moment, and my present, the most favourable mood for indulging in a restrospect. Whether, like certain great personages of the day, in attempting to prove one thing, I have exposed another ; or whether, like cer- tain other great personages, in attempting to prove a great deal, I have proved nothing at all, I leave to my readers to decide ; provided they have the power a^d inclination so to do ; but a RETROSPECT wiU I take notwithstanding. I am perfectly aware that in doing this I shaU lay myself open to the charge of imitation, than which a man might be better accused of downright house-breaking; for it has been a standing rule with many of my illustrious predecessors, occa- sionally, and particularly at the conclusion of a volume, to look over their shoulder and chuckle at the miracles they had achieved. But as I before professed, I am determined to hold myseK entirely independent of all manner of opinions and criticisms as the only method of getting on in this world in any SALMAGUNDI. 171 thing like a straight line. True it is, I may sometimes ,seem to angle a little for the good opinion of mankind by giving them some excellent reasons for doing unreasonable things ; but this is merely to show them, that although I may occasionally go wrong, it is not for want of knowing how to go right ; and here I will lay down a maxim, which will for ever entitle me to the gratitude of my inexperienced readers, namely, that a man always gets more credit in the eyes of this naughty world for sinning wilf uUy, than for sinning through sheer ignorance. It will doubtless be insisted by many ingenious cavillei-s, who will be meddling with what does not at all concern them, that this retrospect should have been taken at the commence- ment of our second volume ; it is usual, I know : moreover, it is natural. So soon as a writer has once accomphshed a volume, he forthwith becomes wonderfully increased in altitude ! he steps upon his book as upon a pedestal, and is elevated in proportion to its magnitude. A duodecimo makes him one inch taller ; an octavo, three inches, a quarto, six : — ^but he who has made out to swell a foho, looks down upon his fellow-creatures from such a fearful height that, ten to one, the poor man's head is turned for ever afterwards. From such a lofty situation, therefore, it is natural an author should cast his eyes behind ; and having reached the first landing place on the stairs of immortality, may reasonably be allowed to plead his privilege to look back over the height he has ascended. I have deviated a little from this venerable custom, merely that our retrospect might fall in the dog days— of all days in the year most congenial to the indulgence of a little self-sufficiency ; inasmuch as people have then Httle to do but to retire within the sphere of self, and make the most of what they find there. Let it not be supposed, however, that we think ourselves a whit the wiser or better since we have finished our volume than we were before ; on the contrary, we seriously assure our readers that we were fully possessed of all the wisdom and moraUty it contains at the moment we commenced writing. It is the world which has grown wiser, — not us ; we have thrown our mite into the common stock of knowledge, we have shared our morsel with the ignorant multitude ; and so far from ele- vating ourselves above the world, our sole endeavor has been to raise the world to our own level, and make it as wise as we, its disinterested benefactors. To a moral writer like myself, who, next to his own comfort and entertainment, has the good of his fellow-citizens at heart, 172 SALMAGUNDI. . a retrospect is but a sorry amusement. Like the industrious husbcmdman, he often contemplates in silent disappointment liis labours wasted on a barren soil, or the seeds he has carefully- sown, choked by a redundancy of worthless weeds. I expected long ere this to have seen a complete reformation in manner and morals, achieved by our united efforts. My fancy echoed to the applauding voices of a retrieved generation ; I anticipated, with proud satisfaction, the period, not far distant, when oiu* work would be introduced into the academies with which every lane and alley of our cities aboimds ; when our precepts would be gently mducted into every, unlucky urchin by force of birch, and my iron-bound physiogomy, as taken by Will Wiz- ard, be as notorious as that of Noah Webster, junr. Esq., or his no less renowned predecessor, the illustrious Dilworth, of spelling-book immortality. But, well-a-day I to let my readers into a profound secret — the expectations of man are like the varied hues that tinge the distant prospect ; never to be realized, never to be enjoyed but in perspective. Luckless Launcelot, that the humblest of the many air castles thou hast erected should prove a " baseless fabric !" Much does it grieve me to •onfess, that after all our lectures, and excellent admonitions, the people of New- York are nearly as much given to back- sliding and ill-nature as ever ; they are just as much abandoned to dancing, and tea-drinking ; and as to scandal, Will Wizard informs me that, by a rough computation, since the last cargo of gunpowder-tea from Canton, no less than eighteen characters have been blown up, besides a number of others that have been wofuUy shattered. The ladies still labour under the same scarcity of muslins, and delight in flesh-coloured silk stoi^kings ; it is evident, how- ever, that our advice has had very considerable effect on them, as they endeavour to act as opposite to it as possible; this being what Evergreen calls female independence. As to the Straddles, they abound as much as ever in Broadway, partic- ularly on Sundays; and Wizzard roundly asserts that he supped in company with a knot of them a few evenings since, when they liquidated a whole Birminghani consignment, in a batch of imperial champaign. I have, furthermore, in the course of a month past, detected no less than three Giblet families making their first onset towards style and gentility in the very manner we have heretofore reprobated. Nor have our utmost efforts been able to check the progress of that alarming epidemic, the rage for punning, which, though SALMAGUNDI. I73 doubtless originally intended merely to ornament and enliven conversation by little sports of fancy, threatens to overrun and poison the whole, hk'e the baneful ivy which destroys the use- ful plant it first embellished. Now I look upon an habitual punster as a depredator upon conversation; and I have -emarked sometimes one of these offenders, sitting silent on 5he watch for an hour together until some luckless wight, un- fortunately for the ease and quiet of the company, dropped a phrase susceptible of a double meaning; — when pop, our punster would dart out like a veteran mouser from her covert, seize the unlucky word, and after worrying and mumbhng at it until it was capable of no further marring, relapse again into silent watchfulness, and Me in wait for another opportu- nity. — Even this might be borne with, by the aid of a little philosophy ; but the worst of it is, they are not content to manufacture puns and laugh heartily at them themselves ; but they expect we should laugh with them ; — which I consider as an intolerable hardship, and a flagrant imposition on good-na- ture. Let those gentlemen fritter away conversation with im- punity, and deal out their wits in sixpenny bits if they please ; but I beg I may have the choice of refusing currency to their small change. I am seriously afraid, however, that our junto is not quite f lee from the infection ; nay, that it has even ap- proached so near as to menace the tranquillity of my elbow- chair : for, Will Wizzard, as we were in caucus the other night, absolutely electrified Pindar and myself with a most palpable and perplexing pun ; had it been a torpedo, it could not have more discomposed the fraternity. Sentence of banishment was unanimously decreed; but on his confessing that, like many celebrated wits, he was merely retailing other men's wares on commission, he was for that once forgiven on condi- tion of refraining from such diabolical practices in future. Pindar is particularly outrageous against punsters ; and quite astonished and put me to a nonplus a day or two since, by ask- ing abruptly "whether I thought a punster could be a good Christain?" He followed up his question triumphantly by offering to prove, by sound logic and historical fact, that the Roman empire owed its decline and fall to a pun ; and that nothing tended so much to demoralize the French nation, as their abominable rage for jeux de mots. But what, above every thing else, has caused me much vex- ation of spirit, and displeased me most with this stiff-necked nation, is, that in spite of all the serious and profound censures 174 SALMAGUNDI. of the sage Mustapha, in his various letters — ^they will talk I— they win still wag their tongues, and chatter hke very slang- whangersl this is a degree of obstinacy incompi?ehensible in the extreme ; and is another proof how alarming is the force of habit, and how difficult it is to reduce beings, accustomed to talk, to that state of silence which is the very acme of human wisdom. We can only account for these disappointments in our mod- erate and reasonable expectations, by supposing the world so deeply sunk in the mire of delinquency, that not even Her- cules, were he to put his shoulder to the axletree, would be able to extricate it. We comfort ourselves, however, by the reflection that there are at least three good men left in this de- generate age to benefit the world by example should precept ultimately fail. And borrowing, for once, an example from certain sleepy writers, who, after the first emotions of surprise in finding their invaluable effusions neglected or despised, con-- sole themselves with the idea that 'tis a stupid age, and look forward to posterity for redress; — we bequeath our volume to future generations,— and much good may it do them. Heaven grant they may be able to read it ! for, if our fashion- able mode of education continues to improve, as of latej I am under serious apprehensions that the period is not far distant when the discipline of the dancing master will supersede that of the grammarian ; crotchets and quavers supplant the alpha- bet ; and the heels, by an antipodean manoeuvre, obtain entire pre-eminence over the head. How does my heart yearn for poor dear posterity, when this work shall become as unintelli- gible to our grandchildren as it seems to be to their grand- fathers and grandmothers. In fact, for I love to be candid, we begin to suspect that many people read our numbers merely for their amusement, without paying any attention to the serious truths conveyed in every page. Unpardonable want of penetration ! not that we wish to restrict our readers in the article of laugliing, which we consider as one of the dearest prerogatives of man, and the distinguishing characteristic which raises him above all other animals: let them laugh, therefore, if they will, provided they profit at the same time, and do not mistake our object. It is one of our indisputable facts that it is easier to laugh ten follies out of countenance than to coax, reason or flog a man out of one. In this odd, singular, and indescribable age, which is neither the age of gold, silver, iron, brass, chivalry, or pills, SALMAOUNDL 175 as Sir John Carr asserts, a grave writer who attempts to attack folly with the heavy artillery of moral reasoning, will fare hke Smollet's honest pedant, who clearly demonstrated by angles, &c., after the manner of Euchd, that it was wrong to do evil ;— and was laughed at for his pains. Take my word for it, a httle well-applied ridicule, like Hannibal's appUcation of vinegar to rocks, will do more with certain hard heads and ob- durate hearts, than all the logic or demonstrations in Longinus or Euclid. But the people of G-otham, wise souls, are so much accustomed to see morality approach them clothed in formida- ble wigs and sable garbs, "with leaden eye that loves the ground," that they can never recognize her when, drest in gay attire, she comes tripping towards them with smiles and sunshine in her countenance. — Well, let the rogues remain in happy ignorance, for " ignorance is bhss," as the poets say; — and I put as imphcit faith in poetry as I do in the almanac or in the newspaper; — we will improve them, without their being the wiser for it, and they shall become better in spite of their teeth, and without their having the least suspicion of the re- formation working within them. Among all our manifold grievances, however, still some small but vivid rays of sunshine occasionally brighten along our path ; cheering our steps, and inviting us to persevere. The public have paid some little regard to a few articles of our advice; — they have purchased our numbers freely; — so much the better for our pubhsher ; — they have read them at- tentively ;— so much the better for themselves. The melan- choly fate of my dear aunt Charity has had a wonderful effect ; and I have now before me a letter from a gentleman who lives opposite to a couple of old ladies, remarkable for the interest they took in his affairs ; — his apartments were absolutely in a state of blockade, and he was on the point of changing his lodgings, or capitulating, until the appearance of our ninth number, which he immediately sent over with his compli- ments ; — the good ladies took the hint, and have scarcely ap- peared at their window since. As to the wooden gentlemen, our friend Miss Sparkle assures me, they are wonderfully im- proved by our criticisms, and sometimes venture to make a remark, or attempt a pun in company, to the great edification of all who happen to understand them. As to red shawls, they are entirely discarded from the" fair shoulders of our ladies — ever since the last importation of finery ;— nor has any lady, since the cold weather, ventured to expose her elbows to the 176 SALMAGUNDI. admiring gaze of scrutinizing passengers. But there is one victory we have achieved which has given us more pleasure than to have written down the whole administration: I am as- sured, from unquestionable authority, that our young ladies, doubtless in consequence of our weighty admonition, have not once indulged in that intoxicating, inflammatory, and whirh- gig dance, the waltz — ever since hot weather commenced. True it is, I understand, an attempt was made to exhibit it by some of the sable fair ones at the last African ball, but it was highly disapproved of by aU the respectable elderly ladies present. These are sweet sources of comfort to atone for the many wrongs and misrepresentations heaped upon us by the world ; — for even we have experienced its ill-nature. How often have we heard ourselves reproached for the insidious apphca- tions of the uncharitable ! — how often have we been accused of emotions which never found an entrance into our bosoms I — how often have our sportive effusions been wrested to serve the purposes of particular enmity and bitterness !— Meddle- some spirits! little do they know our disposition; we "lack gall" to wound the f eehngs of a single innocent individual ; we can even forgive them from the very bottom of our souls ; may they meet as ready a forgiveness from their own consciences ! like true and independent bachelors, having no domestic cares to interfere with our general benevolence, we consider it in- cumbent upon us to watch over the welfare of society ; and although we are indebted to the world for Uttle else than left- handed favours, yet we feel a proud satisfaction in requiting evil with good, and the sneer of ilhberality with the unfeigned smile of good humour. With these mingled motives of selfish- ness and philanthropy we commenced our work, and if we cannot solace ourselves with the consciousness of having done much goodl yet there is ^till one pleasing consolation left, which the world can neither give nor take away. There are moments, — lingering moments of hstless indifference and heavy-hearted despondency,— when our best hopes and affec- tions shpping, as they sometimes will, from their hold on those objects to which they usually cling for support, seem aban- doned on the wide waste of cheerless existence, without a place to cast anchor; without a shore in view to excite a single wish, or to give a mementary interest to contempla- tion. We look back with deUght upon many of these mo- ments of mental gloom, whiled away by the cheerful exercise SALMAGUNDI. ^ 177 of our pen, and consider every such triumph over the spleen as retarding the furrowing hand of time in its insidious encroach- ments on our brows. If, in addition to our own amusements, we have, as we jogged carelessly laughing along, brushed away one tear of dejection and called forth a smile in its place —if we have brightened the pale countenance of a single child of sorrow— we shall feel almost as much joy and rejoicing as a slang-whanger does when he bathes his pen in the heart's blood of a patron and benefactor ; or sacrifices one more illus- trious victim on the altar of party animosity. TO EEADERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. It is our misfortune to be frequently pestered, in our pere- grinations about this blessed city, by certain critical gad-flies ; who buzz around and merely attack the skin, without ever being able to penetrate the body. The reputation of our prom- ising _p?'ofegre Jeremy Cockloft the younger, has been assailed by "these skin-deep critics; they have questioned his claims to originality, and even hinted that the ideas for his New-Jersey Tour were borrowed from a late work entitled " My Pocket- book." As there is no literary offence more despicable in the eyes of the trio than borrowing, we immediately called Jeremy to an account : when he proved, by the dedication of the work in question, that it was first published in London in March, 1807— and that his ' ' Stranger in New- Jersey " had made its ap- pearance on the 24th of the preceding February. We were on the point of acquitting Jeremy with honour on the ground that it was impossible, knowing as he is, to bor- row from a foreign work one month before it was in existence ; when Will Wizard suddenly took up the cudgels for the crit- ics, and insisted that nothing was more probable ; for he recol- lected reading of an ingenious Dutch author who plainly con- victed the ancients of stealing from 'his labours! So much for criticism. We have received a host of friendly and admonitory letters from different quarters, and among the rest a very loving epistle from Georgetown, Columbia, signed (Teddy M'Gundy, 178 SALMAGUNDI. who addresses us by the name of Saul M'Gundy, and insists that we are descended from the same Irish progenitors, and nearly related. As friend Teddy seems to be an honest, merry rogue, we are sorry that we cannot admit his claims to kin- dred; we thank him, however, for his good-will, and should he ever be inclined to favour us with another epistle, we will hint to him, and, at the same time, to our other numerous cor- respondents, that their communications wiQ be infinitely more acceptable, if they wiQ just recollect Tom Shufileton's advice, "pay the post-boy, Muggins." SALMAGUNDI. 179 NO. XIV.-SATURDAY, SEPT. 16, 1807. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, TO-ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. Health and joy to the friend of my heart! — May the angel of peace ever watch over thy dwelling, and the star of pros- perity shed its benignant lustre on all thy undertakings. Far other is the lot of thy captive friend;— his brightest hopes extend but to a lengthened period of weary captivity, and memory only adds to the measure of his griefs, by holding up a mirror which reflects with redoubled charms the hours of past fehcity. In midnight slumbers my soul holds sweet con- verse with the tender objects of its affections;— it is then the exile is restored to his country ; — it is then the wide waste of waters th^t rolls between us disappears, and I clasp to my bosom the companion of my youth ; I awake and find it is but a vision of the night. The sigh will rise,— the tear of dejection will steal down my cheek : — I fly to my pen, and strive to for- get myself, and my sorrows, in conversing with my friend. In such a situation, my good Asem, it cannot be expected that I should be able so whoUy to abstract myself from my own feehngs, as to giVe thee a full and systematic account of the singular people among whom my disastrous lot has been cast. I can only find leisure, from my own individual sor- rows, to entertain thee occasionally with some of the most prominent features of their character; and now and then a solitary picture of their most preposterous eccentricities. I have before observed, that among the distinguishing char- acteristics of the people of this logocracy, is their invincible love of talking ; and, that I could compaj-e the nation to noth- ing but a mighty wind-mill. Thou art doubtless at a loss to X80 SALMAGUNDI. conceive how this mill is supplied with grist; or, in othei- words, how it is possible to furnish subjects to supply the per- petual motion of so many tongues. The genius of the nation appears in its highest iustre in this particular in the discovery, or rather the application, of a sub- ject which seems to supply an inexhaustible mine of words. It is nothing more, my friend, than politics ; a word which, I declare to thee, has perplexed me almost as much as the re- doubtable one of economy. On consulting a dictionary of this language, I found it denoted the science of government ; and the relations, situations, and dispositions of states and empires. —Good, thought I, for a people who boast of governing them- selves there could not be a more important subject of investi- gation. I therefore listened attentively, expecting to hear from "the most enhghtened people under the sun," for so they modestly term themselves, sublime disputations on the science of legislation and precepts of political wisdom that would not have disgraced our great prophet and legislator liimself!-— but, alas, Asem ! how continually are my expectations disap- pointed ! how dignified a meaning does this word bear in the dictionary ; — how despicable its common application ; I find it extending to every contemptible discussion of local animosity, and every petty altercation of insignificant individuals. It embraces, alike, ail manner of concerns ; from the organization of a divan, the election of a bashaw, or the levying of an army, to the appointment of a constable, the personal disputes of two miserable slang- whangers, the cleaning of the streets, or the economy of a dirt-cart. A couple of politicians will quarrel, with the most vociferous pertinacity, about the character of a bum-bailiff whom nobody cares for; or the deportment of a little great man whom nobody knows; -and this is called talk- ing politics ; nay ! it is but a few days since that I was annoyed by a debate between two of my fellow-lodgers, who were mag- nanimously employed in condemning a luckless wight to in- famy, because he chose to wear a red coat, and to entertain certain erroneous opinions some thirty years ago. Shocked at their illiberal and vindictive spirit, I rebuked them for thus indulging in slander and uncharitableness, abojit the colour of a coat ; which had doubtless for many years been worn out ; or the belief in errors, which, in all probability, had been long since atoned for and abandoned ; but they justified themselves by alleging that they were only engaged in politics, and exert- ing that liberty of speech, and freedom of discussion, which SALMAGUNDI. 181 was the glory and safeguard of their national independence. "Oh, Mahomet!" thought I, "what a country must that be, which builds its political safety on ruined characters and the persecution of individuals !" Into what transports of surprise and incredulity am I con- tinually betrayed, as the character of this eccentric people gi-adually developes itself to my observations. Every new re- search increases the peri)lexities in which I am involved, and I am more than ever at a loss where to place them in the scale of my estimation. It is thus the philosopher, in pursuing truth through the labyi-inth of doubt, error, and misrepresenta- tion, frequently finds himself bewildered in the mazes of con- tradictory experience; and almost wishes he could quietly retrace his wandering steps, steal back into the path of honest ighorance, and jog on once more in contented indifference. How fertile in these contradictions is this extensive logoc- racy! Men of different nations, maimers, and languages Uve in this country in the most perfect harmony ; and nothing is more common than to see individuals, whose respective gov- ernments are at variance, taking each other by the hand and exchanging the offices of friendship. Nay, even on the subject of religion, which, as it affects our dearest interests, our earliest opinions and prejudices, some warmth and heart-burnings might be excused, which, even in our enlightened counti^, is so fruitful in difference between man and man!— even rehgion occasions no dissension among these people ; and it has even been discovered by one of their sages that believing in one God or tv/enty Gods- "neither breaks a man's leg nor picks his pocket. " The idolatrous Persian may here bow down before his everlasting fire, and prostrate himself towards the glowing east. The Chinese may adore his Fo, or his Josh; the Egyp- tian his stork; and the Mussulman practise, unmolested, the divine precepts of our immortal prophet. Nay, even the for- lorn, abandoned Atheist, who lies down at night without com- mitting himself to the protection of heaven, and rises in the morning without returning thanks for his safety ; — wlio hath no deity but his own will ;— whose soul, like the sandy desert, is barren of every flower of hope to throw a solitary bloom over the deal level of sterihty and soften the wide extent of desolation ; — ^whose darkened views extend not beyond the hori- zon that bounds his cheerless existence;— to whom no blissful perspective opens beyond the grave;— even he is suffered to indulge in his desperate opinions, without exciting one other 182 SAL3IA0UNDL emotion than pity or contempt. But this mild and tolerating spirit reaches not beyond the pale of religion : — once differ in politics, in mere theories, visions, and chimeras, the growth of interest, of folly, or madness, and deadly warfare ensues; every eye flashes fire, every tongue is loaded with reproach, and every heart is filled with gall and bitterness. At this period several unjustifiable and serious injuries on the part of the barbarians of the British island, have given a new impulse to the tongue and the pen, and occasioned a terrible wordy fever.— Do not suppose, my friend, that I mean to condemn any proper and dignified expression of resentment for injuries. On the contrary, I love to see a word before a blow: for "in the fulness of the heart the tongue moveth." But my long experience has convinced me that people who talk the most about taking satisfaction for affronts, generally content themselves with talking instead of revenging the in- sult : like the street women of this country, who, after a pro- digious scolding, quietly sit down and fan themselves cool as fast as possible. But to return :— the rage for talking has now, in consequence of the aggressions I alluded to, increased to a degree far beyond what I have observed heretofore. In the gardens of his highness of Tripoli are fifteen thousand bee- hives, three hundred peacocks, and a prodigious number of parrots and baboons; — and yet I declare to thee, Asem, that their buzzing, and squalling, and chattering is nothing com- pared to the wild uproar and war of words now raging within the bosom of this mighty and distracted logocracy. Politics pervade every city, every village, every temple, every porter- house ;— the universal question is, "what is the news?"— This is- a kind of challenge to political debate ; and as no two men thmk exactly alike, 'tis ten to one but before they finish all the polite phrases in the language are exhausted by way of giving fire and energy to argument. .What renders this talking fever more alarming, is that the people appear to be in the unhappy state of a patient whose palate nauseates the medicine best cal- culated for the cure of Ms disease, and seem anxious to con- tinue in the full enjoyment of their chattering epidemic. They alarm each other by direful reports and fearful apprehensions ; like I have seen a knot of old wives in this country entertain themselves with stories of ghosts and goblins until their im- aginations were in a most agonizing panic. Every day begets some new tale, big with agitation; and the busy goddess, rumour, to speak in the poetic language of the Christians, is SALMAGUNDI. 183 constantly in motion. She mounts her rattling stage-wagon and gallops about the country, freighted with a load of " hints," " informations," " extracts of letters from respectable gentlemen," "observations of respectable correspondents,-" and "unquestionable authorities;" — which her high-priests, the slang-whangers, retail to their sapient followers with all the solemnity— and all the authenticity of oracles. True it is, the unfortunate slang-whangers are sometimes at a loss for food to supply this insatiable appetite for intelligence; and are, not unf requently, reduced to the necessity of manufacturing dishes suited to the taste of the times : to be served up as morning and evening repasts to their disciples. When the hungry politician is thus full charged with im- portant information, he sallies forth to give due exercise to his tongue ; and tells all he knows to everybody he meets. Now it is a thousand to one that eve^-y person he meets is just as wise as himself, charged with the saiAe articles of information, and possessed of the same violent inclination to give it vent ; for in this country every man adopts some particular slang- whanger as the standard of his judgment, and reads every thing he writes, if he reads nothing else ; which is doubtless the reason why the people of this iogocracy are so marvelously enhghtened. So away they tilt at each other with their bor- rowed lances, advancing to the combat with the opinions and speculations of their respective slang-whangers, which in all probability are diametrically opposite: — here, then, arises as fair an opportunity for a battle of words as heart could wish ; and thou mayest rely upon it, Asem, they do not let it pass un- improved. They sometimes begin with argument ; but in pro- cess of time, as tfie tongue begins to wax wanton, other auxil- iaries become necessary ; recrimination commences ; reproach follows close at its heels ; — from pohtical abuse they proceed to personal; and thus often is a friendship of years trampled down by this contemptible enemy, this gigantic dwarf of poli- tics, the mongrel issue of grovelling ambition and aspiring ignorance ! There would be but Httle harm indeed in all this, if it ended merely in a broken, head ; for this might soon be healed, and the scar, if any remained, might serve as a wa^iiing ever after against the indulgence of political intemperance; — —at the worst, the loss of such heads as these would be a gain to the nation. But the evil extends far deeper; it threatens to impair all social intercourse, and even to sever the sacred union of 184 SALMAGUNDI. family and kindred. The convivial table is disturbed; the cheerful fireside is invaded; the smile of social hilarity is chased away ;— the bond of social love is broken by the ever- lasting intrusion of this fiend of contention, who lurks in the sparkling bowl, crouches by the fireside, growls in the friendly circle, infests every avenue to pleasure ; and, like the scowling incubus, sits, on the bosom of society, pressing down and smothering every throb and pulsation of liberal philanthropy. But thou wilt perhaps ask, " What can these people dispute about? one would suppose that being all free and equal, they would harmonize as brothers; children of the same parent, and equal heirs of the same inheritance. " This theory is most exquisite, my good friend, but in practice it turns out the very dream of a madman. Equality, Asem, is one of the most con- sanunate scoundrels that ever crept from the brain of a politi- cal juggler — a fellow who thrusts his hand into the pocket of honest industry, or eiTterprising talent, and sqanders their hard-earned profits on profligate idleness or indolent stupidity. There will always be an inequality among mankind so long as a portion of it is enlightened and industrious, and the rest idle and ignorant. The one will acquire a larger share of wealth, and its attendant comforts, refinements, and luxuries of life; and the influence, and power, which those will always possess who have the greatest ability of administering to the neces- sities of their fellow-creatures. These advantages will inevi- tably excite envy; and envy as inevitably begets ill-will: — hence arises that eternal warfare, which the lower orders of society are waging against those who have raised themselves by their own merits, or have been raised hj the merits of their ancestors, above the common level. In a nation possessed of quick feelings and impetuous passions, the hostility might en- gender deadly broils and bloody commotions; but here it merely vents itself in high-sounding words, which lead to con- tinual breaches of decorum ; or in the insidious assassination o - character, and a restless 'propensity among the base to blacken every reputation which is fairer than their own. I cannot help smiling sometimes to see the solicitude with which the people of America, so called from the country hav- ing been first discovered by Christopher Columbus, battle about them when any election takes place; as if they had the least concern in the matter, or were to be benefited by an exchange of bashaws; — they really seem ignorant that none but the bashaws and their dependants are at all interested in SALMAGUNDI. '185 the event ; and that the people at large will not find their situ- ation altered in the least. I formerly gave thee an account of an election which took place under my eye. — The result has been that the people, as some of the slang-whangers say, have obtained a glorious triumph ; which, however, is flatly denied by the opposite slang- Avhangers, who insist that their party is composed of the true sovereign people; and that the others are all jacobins, Frenchmen, and Irish rebels. I ought to apprise thee that the last is a term of great reproach here; which, perhaps, thou wouldst not otherwise imagine, consider- ing that it is not many years since this very people were engaged in a revolution ; the failure of which would have sub- jected them to the same ignominious epithet, and a participa- tion in which is now the highest recommendation to public confidence. By Mahomet, but it cannot be denied, that the consistency of this people, like every thing else appertaining to them, is on a prodigious great scale ! To return, however, to the event of the election, — The people triumphed, and much good has it done them. I, for my part, expected to see won- derful changes, and most magical metamorphoses. I expected to see the people all rich, that they would be all gentlemen bashaws, riding in their coaches, and faring sumptuously every day; emancipated from toil, and revelling in luxurious ease. Wilt thou credit me, Asem, when I declare to thee that every thing remains exactly in the same state it was before the last wordy campaign? — except a few noisy retainers, who have crept into office, and a few noisy patriots, on the other side, who have been kicked out, there is not the least difference. The labourer toils for his daily support ; the beggar still lives on the charity of those who have any charity to bestow ; and the only solid satisfaction the multitude have reaped is, that they have got a new governor, or bashaw, whom they will praise, idolize, and exalt for a while ; and afterwards, notwith- standing the sterling merits he really possesses, in compliance with im.memorial custom, they will abuse, calumniate, and tJample him under foot. Such, my dear Asem, is the way in which the wise people of "the most enlightened country under the sun" are amused with straws and puffed up with mighty conceits ; like a certain fish I have seen here, which, having his belly tickled for a short time, will swell and puff himself up to twice his usual size, and become a mere bladder of wind and vanity. The blessing of a true Mussulman Hght on thee, good Asem ; 186 SALMA G UNDI. ^ ever while thou livest be true to thy prophet ; and rejoice, that, though the boasting political chatterers of this logocracy cast upon thy countrymen the ignominious epithet of slaves, thou hvest in a country where the people, instead of being at the mercy of a tyrant with a million of heads, have nothing to do but submit to the will of a bashaw of only three tails. Ever thine, Mustapha. COCKLOFT HALL. BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Those who pass their time immured in the smoky circumfer- ence of the city, amid the rattling of carts, the brawling of the multitude, and the variety of unmeaning and discordant sounds that prey insensibly upon the nerves and beget a weari- ness of the spirits, can alone understand and feel that expan- sion of the heart, that physical renovation which a citizen experiences when he steals forth from his dusty prison to breathe the free air of heaven and enjoy the clear face of nature. Who that has rambled by the side of one of our ma- jestic rivers at the hour of sunset, when the wildly romantic scenery around is softened and tinted by the voluptuous mist of evening ; when the bold and swelling outlines of the distant mountain seem melting into the glowing horizon and a rich mantle of refulgence is thrown over the whole expanse of the heavens, but must have felt how abundant is nature in sources of pure enjoyment; how luxuriant in all that can enliven the senses or delight the imagination. The jocund zephyr, full freighted with native fragrance, sues sweetly to the senses; the chirping of the thousand varieties of insects with which our woodlands abound, forms a concert of simple melody ; even the barking of the farm dog, the lowing of the cattle, the tinkling of their bells, and the strokes of the wood- man's axe from the opposite shore, seem to partake of the soft- ness of the scene and fall tunefully upon the ear ; while the voice of the villager, chanting some.rustic baUad, swells from a distance in the semblance of the very music of harmonious love. At such time I feel a sensation of sweet tranquillity; a hallowed calm is diffused over my senses; I cast my eyes SALMA G UNDI. 187 around, and every object is serene, simple, and beautiful ; no warring passion, no discordant string there vibrates to the touch of ambition, self-interest, hatred, or revenge ; — I am at peace with the whole world, and hail all' mankind as friends and brothers. — Blissful moments! ye recall the careless days of my boyhood, when mere existence was happiness, when hope was certainty, this world a paradise, and every woman a min- istering angel !— surely man was designed for a tenant of the universe, instead of being pent up in these dismal cages, these dens of strife, disease, and discord. We were created to range the fields, to sport among the groves, to build castles in the air, and have every one of them reahzed ! A whole legion of reflections like these insinuated themselves into my mind, and stole me from the influence of the cold reah- ties before me, as I took my accustomed walk, a few weeks since, on the battery. Here watching the splendid mutations of one of our summer skies, wliich emulated the boasted glories of an Italian sun-set, I all at once discovered that it was but to pack up my portmanteau, bid adieu for awhile to my elbow- chair, and in a little time I should be transported from the re- gion of smoke, and noise, and dust, to the enjoyment of a far sweeter prospect and a brighter sky. The next morning I was off full tilt to Cockloft-Hall, leaving my man Pompey to follow at his leisure with my baggage. I love to indulge in rapid transitions, which are prompted by the quick impulse of the moment;— 'tis the only mode of guarding against that intrud- ing and deadly foe to all parties of pleasure,— anticipation. Having now made good my retreat, until the black frosts commence, it is but a piece of civility due to my readers, who I trust are, ere this, my friends, to give them a proper introduc- tion to my present residence. I do this as much to gratify them as myself: well knowing a reader is always anxious to learn how his author is lodged, whether in a garret, a cellar, a hovel, or a palace ; at least an author is generally vain enough to think so ; and an author's vanity ought sometimes to be gratified ; poor vagabond ! it is often the only gratification he ever tastes in this world ! . Cockloft-hall is the country residence of the family, or rather the paternal mansion; which, like the mother country, sends forth whole colonies to populate the face of the earth. Pindar whimsically denominates it the family hive ! and there is at least as much truth as humour in my cousin's epithet ; — for many a redundant swarm has it produced. I don't recollect 188 SALMAGUNDI. whether I have at any time mentioned to my readers, -for I seldom look back on what I have written, that the fertility of the Cocklofts is proverbial. The female members of the family are most incredibly fruitful ; and to use a favourite phrase of old Cockloft, who is excessively addicted to backgammon, they seldom fail "to throw doublets every time." I myseK have known three or four very industrious young men reduced to great extremities, with some of these capital breeders; heaven smiled upon their union, and enriched them with a numerous and hopeful offspring— who eat them out of doors. But to return to the hall.— It is pleasantly sil^uated on the bank of a sweet pastoral stream : not so near town as to invite an inundation of unmeaning, idle acquaintance, who come to lounge away an afternoon, nor so distant as to render it an absolute deed of charity or friendship to perform the journey. It is one of the oldest habitations in the country, and^ w^as built by my cousin Christopher's grandfather, who was also mine by the mother's side, in his latter days, to form, as the old gentleman expressed himself, "a snug retreat, where he meant to sit himself down in his old days and be comfortable for the -rest of his life." He was at this time a few years over four score : but this was a common saying of his, with which he usually closed his airy speculations. One would have thought, from the long vista of years through which he contemplated many of his projects, that the good man had forgot the age of the patriarchs had long since gone by, and calculated upon living a century longer at least. He was for a considerable time in doubt on the question of roofing his house with shingles or slate :— shingles would not last above thirty years ! but then they were much cheaper than slates. He settled the matter by a kind of compromise, and determined to build with shingles first; "and when they are worn out," said the old gentleman, triumphantly, "'twill be time enough to replace them with more durable materials !" But his contemplated improvements surpassed every tiling ; and scarcely had he a roof over his head, when he discovered a thousand things to be arranged before he could "sit down comfortably." In the first place, every tree and bush on the place was cut down or grubbed up by the roots, because they were not placed to his mind; and a vast quantity of oaks, chestnuts, -and elms, set out in clumps and rows, and labyrinths, which he observed in about five-and- twenty or thirty years at most, would yield a very tolerable shade, and, moreover, shut out all the surrounding country; SALMAGUNDI. 189 for he was determined, he said, to have all his views on his own land, and be beholden to no man for a prospect. This, my learned readers will perceive, was something very hke the idea of Lorenzo de Medici, who gave as a reason for preferring one of his seats above all the others, "that all the ground within view of it was his own:" now, whether my gi*andfather ever heard of the Medici, is more than I can say; I rather think, however, from the characteristic originality of the Cocklofts, that it was a whim- wham of his own begetting. Another odd notion of the old gentleman was to blow up a large bed of rocks, for the purpose of having a fish-pond, although the river ran at about one hundred yards distance from tlie house, and was well stored with fish ; — ^but there was nothing, he said, like having things to one's-self. So at it he went with all the ardour of a projector who has just hit upon some splendid and useless whim- wham. As he proceeded, his views enlarged; he would have a summer-house built on the margin of the fish-pond ; he would have it surrounded with elms and willows ; and he would have a cellar dug under it, for some incomprehensible purpose, which remains a secret to this day. "In a few years," he observed, "it would be a de- lightful piece of wood and water, where he might ramble on a summer's noon, smoke his pipe, and enjoy himself in his old days:"— thrice honest old soul! — he died of an apoplexy in his ninetieth year, just as he had begun to blow up the fish- pond. Let no one ridicule the whim- whams of my grandfather. If —and of this there is no doubt, for wise men have said it — if life is but a dream, happy is he who can make the most of the illusion. Since my grandfather's death, the hall has passed through the hands of a succession of true old cavaliers, hke himself, who gloried 'in observing the golden rules of hospitality; which, according to the Cockloft principle, consist in giving a guest the freedom of the house, cramming him with beef and pudding, and, if possible, laying him under the table with prime port, claret, or London particular. The mansion ap- pears to have been consecrated to the jolly god, and teems with monuments sacred to conviviality. Every chest of draw- ers, clothes-press, and cabinet, is decorated with enormous China punch-bowls, which Mrs. Cockloft has paraded with much ostentation, particularly in her favourite red damask bed-chamber^ and in which a projector might, with great satis- 190 BALMAQUNDl faction, practise his experiments on fleets, diving-bells,- and sub-marine boats. I have before mentioned cousin Christopher's profound ven- eration for antique furniture ; in consequence of which the old hall is furnished in much the same style with the house in town. Old-fashioned bedsteads, with high testers; massy clothes-presses, standing most majestically on eagles' claws, and ornamented with a profusion of shining brass handles, clasps, and hinges ; and around the grand parlour are solemnly arranged a set of high-backed, leather-bottomed, massy, ma- hogany chairs, that always remind me of the formal long- waisted belles, who flourished in stays and buckram, about the time they were in fashion. If I may judge from their height, it was not the fashion for gentlemen in those days to loU over the back of a lady's chair, and whisper in her ear what— might be as well spoken aloud ; — at least, they must have been Patagonians to have effected it. Will Wizard declares that he saw a Httle fat German gallant attempt once to whisper Miss Barbara Cockloft in this manner, but being unluckily caught by the chin, he dangled and kicked about for half a minute, before he could find terra firma ;— but WiU is much addicted to hyperbole, by reason of his having been a great traveller. But what the Cocklofts most especially pride themselves upon, is the possession of several family portraits, which ex- hibit as honest a square set of portly, well-fed looking gentle- men, and gentlewomen, as ever grew and flouj*ished under the pencil of a Dutch painter. Old Christopher, who is a complete genealogist, has a story to teU of each; and dilates with co- pious eloquence on the great services of the general in large sleeves, during the old French war ; and on the piety of the lady in blue velvet, who so attentively peruses her book, and was once so celebrated for a beautiful arm: but much as I rever- ence my illustrious ancestors, I find little to admire in their Diography, except my cousin's excellent memory; which is most provokingly retentive of every uninteresting particular. My allotted chamber in the hall is the same that was occupied in days of yore by my honoured uncle John. The room exhib- its many memorials which recall to my remembrance the solid excellence and amiable eccentricities of that gallant old lad. Over the mantel-piece hangs the portrait of a young lady dressed in a flaring, long-waisted, blue-silk gown; be-flowered, and be-furbelowed, and be-cuffed, in a most abundant manner- 8ALMA0UNDL 191 she holds in one hand a book, which she very complaisantly neglects to turn and smile on the spectator; in the other a flower, which I hope, for the honour of dame nature, was the sole production of the painter's imagination ; and a little behind her is something tied to a blue riband, but whether a Uttle dog, a monkey, or a pigeon, must be left to the judgment of future commentators. The little damsel, tradition says, was my uncle John's third flame; and he would infalhbly have run away with her, could he have persuaded her into the measure ; but at that time ladies were not quite so easily run away with as Coliunbine ; and my uncle, f aihng in the point, took a lucky thought; and with great gallantry ran off with her picture, which he conveyed in triumph to Cockloft-hall, and hung up in his bed-chamber as a monument of his enterprising spirit. The old gentleman prided himself mightily on this chivalric manoeuvre ; always chuckled, and pulled up his stock when he contemplated the picture, and never related, the exploit without winding up with — "I might, indeed, have carried off the origi- nal, had I chose to dangle a httle longer after her chariot- wheels ; — for, to do the girl justice, I believe she had a liking for me ; but I always scorned to coax, my boy,— always,— 'twas my way." My uncle John was of a happy temperament; — ^I would give half I am worth for his talent at self -consolation. The Miss Cocklofts have made several spirited attempts to introduce modern furniture into the hall; Dut with very indif- ferent success. Modern style has always been an object of great annoyance to honest Christopher ; and is ever treated by him with sovereign contempt, as an upstart intruder. — It is a common observation of his, that your old-fashioned substantial furniture bespeaks the respectabihty of one's ancestors, and in- dicates that the family has been used to hold up its head for more than the present generation ; whereas the fragile appen- dages of modern style seemed to be emblems of mushroom gentility ; and, to his mind, predicted that the family dignity would moulder away and vanish with the finery thus put on of a sudden. — The same whim- wham makes him averse to hav- ing his house surrounded with poplars ; which he stigmatizes as mere upstarts ; just fit to ornament the shingle palaces of modern gentry, and characteristic of the establishments they decorate. Indeed, so far does he carry his veneration for all the antique trumpery, that he can scarcely see the venerable dust brushed from its resting place on the old-fashioned testers ; or a gray -bearded spider dislodged ^vcn\ bis ancient inheritance 192 SALMAGUjSLI. without groaning ; and I once saw iiim in a transport of passion on Jeremy's knocking down a mouldering martin-coop with'his tennis-ball, which had been set up in tiie latter days of my grandfather. Another object of his peculiar affection is an old English cherry tree, which leans against a corner of the hall ; and whether the house supports it, or it supports the house, would be, I believe, a question of some difficulty to decide. It is held sacred by friend Christopher because he planted and reared it himself, and had once well-nigh broke his neck by a fall from one of its branches. This is one of his favourite stories : — and there is reason to believe, that if the tree was out of the way, the old gentleman would forget the whole af- fair ; — ^which would be a great pity. — The old tree has long since ceased bearing, and is exceedingly infirm ;— every tempest robs it of a limb ; and one wotdd suppose from the lamentations of my old friend, on such occasions, that he had lost one of his own. He often contemplates it in a half -melancholy, half- moralizing humour — "together, "he says, "have we flourished, and together shall we wither away :-~a few years, and both our heads will be laid low; and, perhaps, my mouldering bones may, one day or other, mingle with the dust of the tree I have planted." He often fancies, he says, that it rejoices to see him when he revisits the hall ; and that its leaves assume a brighter verdure, as if to welcome his arrival. How whimsically are our tenderest feelings assailed ! At one time the old tree had obtruded a withered branch before Miss Barbara's window, and she desired her father to order the gardener to saw it off. I shall never forget the old man's answer, and the look that ac- companied it. "What," cried he, "lop off the limbs of my cherry tree in its old age ?— why do you not cut off the gray locks of your poor old father ?" Do my readers yawn at this long family detail ? They are welcome to throw down our work, and never resume it again. I have no care for such ungratified spirits, and will not throw away a thought on one of them ; — full often have I contributed to their amusement, and have I not a right, for once, to consult my own ? Who is there that does not fondly turn, at times, to linger round those scenes which were once the haunt of his boy- hood, ere his heart grew heavy and his head waxed gray ;— and to dwell with fond affection on the friends who have twined themselves round liis heart, — -mingled in all his enjoyments, contributed to all his felicities ? If there be any who can- not relish these enjoyments, let them despair ; — for they ha^^e SALMAGUNDI. 193 been so soiled in their intercourse with the world, as to be in- capable of tasting some of the purest pleasures that survive the happy period of youth. To such as have not yet lost the rural feeling, I address this simple family picture ; and in the honest sincerity of a warm heart, I invite them to turn aside from bustle, care, and toil, to tarry with me for a season, in the hospitable mansion of the Cocklofts. I WAS really apprehensive, on reading the following eflFusion of Will Wizard, that he still retained that pestilent hankering after puns of which we lately convicted him. He, however, aeclares, that he is fully authorized by the example of the most popular critics and wits of the present age, whose manner and matter he has closely, and he flatters himself successfully, copied in the subsequent essay. THEATRICAL INTELLIGENCE. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. The uncommon healthiness of the season, occasioned, as several learned physicians assure me, by the universal preva- lence of the influenza, has encouraged the chieftain of our dra- matic corps to marshal his forces, and to commence the cam- paign at a much earlier day than usual. He has been induced to take the field thus suddenly, I am told, by the invasion of certain foreign marauders, who pitched their tents at Vauxhall- Garden during the warm months ; and taking advantage of his army being disbanded and dispersed in summer quarters, com- mitted sad depredations upon the borders of his territories : — carrying off a considerable portion of his winter harvest, and murdering some of his most distinguished characters. It is true, these hardy invaders have been reduced to great extremity by the late heavy rains, which injured and de- stroyed much of their camp-equipage ; besides spoihng the best part of thexr wardrobe. Two cities, a triumphal car, and a new moon for Cinderella, together with the barber's boy who was employed every night to powder and make it shine white, 194 SALMAGUNDI. have been entirely washed away, and the sea has become very wet and mouldy; insomuch that great apprehensions are entertained that it will never be dry enough for use. Add to this the noble county Paris had the misfortune to tear his cor- duroy breeches, in the scuffle with Eomeo, by reason of the tomb being very wet, which occasioned him to slip ; and he and his noble rival possessing but one poor pair of satin ones between them, were reduced to considerable shifts to keep up the dignity of their respective houses. In spite of these disad- vantages, and the untoward circumstances, they continued to enact most intrepidly ; performing with much ease and confi- dence, inasmuch as they were seldom pestered with an audi- ence to criticise and put them out of countenance. It is rumoured that the last heavy shower absolutely dissolved the company, and that our manager has nothing further to appre- hend from that quarter. The theatre opened on Wednesday last, with great eclat, as we critics say, and almost vied in brilliancy with that of my superb friend Consequa in Canton ; where the castles were all ivory, the sea mother-of-pearl, the skies gold and silver leaf, and the outside of the boxes inlaid with scallop shell-work. Those who want a better description of the theatre, may as well go and see it ; and then they can judge for themselves. For the gratification of a highly respectable class of readers, who love to see every thing on paper, I had indeed prepared a circumstantial and truly incomprehensible account of it, such as your traveller always fiUs his book with, and wliich I defy the most intelhgent architect, even the great Sir Christopher Wren, to understand. I had jumbled cornices, and pilasters, and pillars, and capitals, and trigliphs, and modules, and plinths, and volutes, and perspectives, and foreshortenings, helter-skelter; and had set all the orders of architecture, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, etc. , together by the ears, in order to work out a satisfactory description ; but the manager having sent me a polite note, requesting that I would not take off the sharp edge, as he whimsically expresses it, of public curiosity, thereby diminishing the receipts of his house, I have willingly con- sented to oblige him, and have left my description at the store of our pubHsher, where any person may see it — provided he applies at a proper hour. I cannot refrain here from giving vent to the satisfaction I received from the excellent performances of the different actors one and all ; and particularly the gentlemen who shifted SALMAGUNDI. 195 the scenes, who acquitted themselves throughout with great celerity, dignity, pathos and effect. Nor must I pass over the pecuhar merits of my friend John, who gallanted off the chairs and tables in the most dignified and circumspect man- ner. Indeed, I have had frequent occasion to applaud the cor- rectness with which this gentleman fulfils the parts allotted him, and consider him as one of the best general performers in the company. My friend, the cockney, found considerable fault with the manner in which John shoved a huge rock from behind the scenes ; maintaining that he should have put his left foot forward, and pushed it with his right hand, that being the method practised by Ms contemporaries of the royal theatres, and universally approved by then* best critics. He also took exception to John's coat, which he pronounced too short by a foot at least ; particularly when he turned his back to the com- pany. But I look upon these objections in the same light as new readings, and insist that John shall be allowed to manoeuvre his chairs and tables, shove his rocks, and wear his skirts in that style which his genius best effects. My hopes in ihe rising merit of this favourite actor daily increase ; and I would hint to the manager the propriety of giving him a benefit, advertising in the usual style of play- bills, as a "springe to catch woodcocks," that, between the play and farce, John will make a bow— for that night only ! I am told that no pains have been spared to make the exhibi- tions of this season as splendid as possible. Several expert sat- catchers have been sent into different parts of the country to catch white mice for the grand pantomime of Cinderella. A nest fiiU of httle squab Cupids have been taken in the neigh- bourhood of Communipaw; they are as yet but half fledged, of the true Holland breed, and it is hoped will be able to fly about by the middle of October ; otherwise they will be sus- pended about the stage by the waistband, hke httle alligators in an apothecary's shop, as the pantomime must positively be performed by that time. Great pains and expense have been incurred in the importation of one of the most portly pump- kins in New-England ; and the public may be assured there is now one on board a vessel from New-Haven, which will con- tain Cinderella's coach and six with perfect ease, were the white mice even ten times as large. Also several barrels of hail, rain, brimstone, and gunpowder, are in store for melo-dramas; of which a number are to be played off this winter. It is furthermore whispered me that 196 SALMAGXTNDL the great thunder-drum has been new braced, and an expert performer on that instrument engaged, who will#thunder in plain Enghsh, so as to be understood by the most illiterate hearer. This will be infinitely preferable to the miserable Italian thunderer employed last winter by Mr. Ciceri, who performed in such an unnatural and outlandish tongue that none but the scholars of signor Da Ponte cculd understand him. It will be a further gratification to the patriotic audi- ence to know, that the present thunderer is a feUow country- man, bom at Dunderbarrack, among the echoes of the High- lands ; — and that he thunders with peculiar emphasis and pom- pous enunciation, in the true style of a fourth of July orator. In addition to aU these additions, the manager has provided an entire new snow-storm; the very sight of which will be quite sufficient to draw a shawl over every naked bosom in the theatre; the snow is perfectly fresh, having been manufac- tured last August. N. B. The outside of the theatre has been ornamented with a new chimney 1 1 SALMAGUJVni. 197 NO. XV.-THUivSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1807. SKETCHES FROM NATURE. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. The brisk north-westers, which prevailed not long since, had a powerful effect in arresting the progress of belles, beaux, and wild pigeons in their fashionable northern tour, and turning them back to the more balmy region of the South. Among the rest, I was encountered, full butt, by a blast which set my teeth chattering, just as I doubled one of the frowning bluffs of the Mohawk mountains, in my route to Niagara; and facing about incontinently, I forthwith scud before the wind, and a few days since arrived at my old quarters In New- York. My first care, on returning from so long an absence, was to visit the worthy family of the Cocklofts, whom I found safe, bur- rowed in their country mansion. On inquiring for my highly respected coadjutor, Langstaff, I learned with great concern that he had relapsed into one of his eccentric fits of the spleen, ever since the era of a turtle dinner given by old Cockloft to some of the neighbouring squires ; wherein the old gentleman had achieved a glorious victory, in laying honest Launcelot fairly under the table. Langstaff, although fond of the social board, and cheerful glass, yet abominates any excess ; and has an invincible aversion to getting mellow, considering it a wil- ful outrage on the sanctity of imperial mind, a senseless abuse of the body, and an unpardonable, because a voluntary, pros- tration of both mental and personal dignity. I have heard him morahze on the subject, in a style that would have done honour to Michael Cassia himself; but I believe, if the truth were known, this antipathy rather arises from his liaving, as the phrase is, but a weak head, and nerves so extremely sensi- tive, that he is sure to suffer severely from a frohc ; and T^ill 198 SALMAQUNBL groan and make resolutions against it for a week afterwards. He therefore took this waggish exploit of old Christopher's, and the consequent quizzing which he underwent, in high dudgeon, had kept aloof from company for a fortnight, and appeared to be meditating some deep plan of retahation upon his mis- chievous old crony. He had, however, for the last day or two, shown some symptoms of convalescence : had listened, without more than half a dozen twitches of impatience, to one of Chris- topher's unconscionable long stories; and even was seen to smile, for the one hundred and thirtieth time, at a venerable joke originally borrowed from Joe Miller : but which, by dint of long occupancy, and frequent repetition, the old gentleman now firmly beHeves happened to himself somewhere in New- England. As I am well acquainted with Launcelot's haunts, I soon found him out. He was lolling on his favourite bench, rudely constructed at the foot of an old tree, which is full of fantasti- cal twists, and with its spreading branches forms a canopy of luxuriant foliage. This tree is a kind of chronicle of the short reigns of his uncle John's mistresses ; and its trunk is sorely wounded with carvingd of true lovers' knots, hearts, darts, names, and inscriptions!— frail memorials of the variety of the fair dames who captivated the wandering fancy of that old cavalier in the days of his youthful romance. Launcelot holds this tree in particular regard, as he does every thing else con- nected with the memory of his good uncle John. He was re- clining, in one of his usual brown studies, against its trunk, and gazing pensively upon the river that ghded just by, wash- ing the drooping branches of the dwarf willows that fringed its bank. My appearance roused him ;— he grasped my hand with his usual warmth, and with a tremulous but close pressure, wliich spoke that his heart entered into the salutation. After a number of affectionate inquiries and felicitations, such as friendship, not form, dictated, he seemed to relapse into his former flow of thought, and to resume the chain of ideas my appearance had broken for a moment. "I was reflecting," said he, "my dear Anthony, upon some observations I made in our last number ; and considering whether the sight of objects once dear to the affections, or of scenes where we have passed different happy periods of early life, really occasions most enjoyment or most regret. Renew- ing our acquaintance with well-known but long-separated ob- jects, revives, it is true, the recollection of former pleasures, SALMAGUNDI. 199 and touches the tenderest feelings of the heart ; like the flavour of a delicious beverage will remain upon the palate long after the cup has parted from the Hps. But on the other hand, my friend, these same objects are too apt to awaken us to a keener recollection of what we were, when they erst delighted us ; to provoke a mortifying and melancholy contrast with what we are at present. They act, in a manner, as milestones of exist- ence, showing us how far we have travelled in the journey of life ; — how much of our weary but fascinating pilgrimage is accomphshed. I look round m6, and my eye fondly recognizes thQ fields I once sported over, the river in which I once swam, and the orchard I intrepidly robbed in the halcyon days of boyhood. The fields are still green, the river still rolls un- altered and undiminished, and the orchard is still flourishing and fruitful ; — it is I only am changed. The thoughtless flow of mad-cap spirits that nothing could depress;— the elasticity of nerve that enabled me to bound over the field, to stem the stream, and cUmb the tree ;— the ' sunshine of the breast ' that beamed an illusive charm over every object, and created a paradise around me!— -where are they?— the thievish lapse of years has stolen them away, and left in return nothing but gray hairs, and a repining spirit." My friend Launcelot con- cluded liis harangue with a sigh, and as I' saw he was still under the influence of a whole legion of the blues, and just on the point of sinking into one of his whimsical and unreason- able fits of melancholy abstraction, I proposed a walk ;— he con- sented, and slipping his left arm in mine, and waving in the other a gold-heac.ed thorn cane, bequeathed him by his uncle John, we slowly rambled along the margin of the river. Langstaff, though possessing great vivacity of temper, is most wofully subject to these "thick coming fancies:" and I do not know a man whose animal spirits do insult him with more jiltings, and coquetries, and shppery tricks. In these moods he is often visited by a whim-wham which he indulges in common with the Cocklofts. It is that of looking back with regret, conjuring up the phantoms of good old times, and deck- ing them out in imaginary finery, with the Spoils of his fancy ; like a good lady widow, regretting the loss of the " poor dear man;" for whom, while living, she cared not a rush. I have seen him and Pindar, and old Cockloft, amuse themselves over a bottle with their youthful days ; until by the time they had become what is termed merry, they were the most miserable beings in existence. In a similar humour was Launcelot at 200 "^ SALMAGUNDI. present, and I knew the only way was to let him moralize himself out of it. Our ramble was soon interrupted by the appearance of a personage of no Httle importance at Cockloft-hall; —for, to let my readers into a family secret, friend Christopher is notori- ously hen pecked by an old negro, who has whitened on the place; and is his master, almanac, and counsellor. My read- ers, if haply they have sojourned in the country, and become conversant in rural manners, must have observed, that there is scarce a little hamlet but ha^ one of these old weather-beaten wiseacres of negroes, who ranks among the great characters of the place. He is always resorted to as an oracle to resolve any question about the weather, fishing, shooting, farming, and horse-doctoring: and on such occasions will slouch his remnant of a hat on one side, fold his arms, roll his white eyes, and examine the sky, with a look as knowing as Peter Pindar's magpie when peeping into a marrow-bone. Such a sage curmudgeon is Old Caesar, who acts as friend Cockloft's prime minister or grand vizier ; assumes, when abroad, his master's style and title ; to wit, squire Cockloft ; and is, in effect, abso- lute lord and ruler of the soil. As he passed us he pulled off his hat with an air of some- thing more than respect ; — it partook, I thought, of affection. ''There, now, is another memento of the kind I have been noticing," said Launcelot; "Caesar was a bosom friend and chosen playmate of cousin Pindar and myself, when we were boys. Never were we so happy as when, stealing away on a holiday to the hall, we ranged about the fields with honest Csesar. He was particularly adroit in^making our quail-traps and fishing-rods ; was always the ring-leader in all the schemes of frolicksome mischief perpetrated by the urchins of the neighbourhood ; considered himself on an equahty with the best of us; and many a hard battle have I had with him, about a division of the spoils of an orchard, or the title to a bird's nest. Many a summer evening do I remember when huddled together on the steps of the hall door, Caesar, with his stories of ghosts, goblins, and witches, would put us all in a panic, and people every lane, and church-yard, and solitary wood, with imaginary beings. In process of time, he became the constant attendant and Man Friday of cousin Pindar, whenever he went a sparking among the rosy country girls of the neighbouring farms ; and brought up his rear at every rustic dance, when he would mingle in the sable group that SALMAGUNDI. 201 always thronged the door of merriraent ; and it was enough to put to the rout a host of splenetic imps to see his mouth grad- ually dilate from MOUNTEBANK AND BUFFA-DANCER TO HIS HIGH- NESS. The numerous letters which I have written to our friend the slave-driver, as well as those to thy kinsman the snorer, and which, doubtless, were read to thee, honest Muley, have, in all probability, awakened thy curiosity to know fui'ther partic- ulars concerning the manners of the barbarians, who hold me in such ignominious captivity. I was lately at one of their public ceremonies, which, at first, perplexed me exceedingly as to its object ; but as the explanations of a friend have let me somewhat into the secret, and as it seems to bear no small analogy to ,thy profession, a description of it may contribute to thy amusement, if not to thy instruction. A few days since, just as I had finished my coffee, and was perfuming my whiskers, preparatory to a morning walk, I was waited upon Iqj an inhabitant of this place, a gay young in- fidel who has of late cultivated my acquaintance. He pre- sented me with a square bit of painted pasteboard, vdiich, he informed me, would entitle me to admittance to the city as- sembly. Curious to know the meaning of a phrase which was entirely new to me, I requested an explanation; when my friend informed me that the assembly was a numerous con- course of young people of both sexes, who, on certain occa- sions, gathered together to dance about a large room with violent gesticulation, and try to out-dress each other. — "In short," said he, "if you wish to see the natives in all their glory, there's no place like the City Assembly ; so you must go there, and sport your whiskers." Though the matter of sporting my whiskers was considerably above my apprehen^ 248 SALMA G UNDI. sion, yet I now began, as I thought, to understand him. I had heard of the war dances of the natives, which are a kind of reHgious institution, and had httle doubt but that this must be a solemnity of the kind— upon a prodigious great sc£},le. Anxious as I am to contemplate these strange people in every situation, I willingly acceded to his proposal, and, to be the more at ease, I determined to lay asid.e my Turkish dress, and appear in plain garments of the fashion of this country ; as is my custom whenever I wish to mingle in a crowd without ex- citing the attention of the gaping multitude. It was long after the shades of night had fallen, before my friend appeared to conduct me to the assembly. "These in- fidels, " thought I, ' ' shroud themselves in mystery, and seek the aid of gloom and darkness, to heighten »the solemnity of their pious orgies." Eesolving to conduct myself with that decent respect which every stranger owes to the customs of the land in which he sojourns, I chastised my features into an expression of sober reverence, and stretched my face into a degree of longitude suitable to the ceremony I was about to witness. Spite of myself, I felt an emotion of awe steaHng over my senses as I approached the majestic pile. My im- agination pictured something similar to a descent into the cave of Dom-Daniel, where the necromancers of the East are of taught their infernal arts. I entered with the same gravity demeanour that I would have approached the holy temple at Mecca, and bowed my head three times as I passed the threshold. " Head of the mighty Amrou !" thought I, on being ushered into a splendid saloon, " what a display is here ! surely I am transported to the mansions of the Houris, the elysium of the faithful !"— How tame appeared all the descriptions of en- chanted palaces in our Arabian poetry !— wherever I turned my eyes, the quick glances of beauty dazzled my vision and ravished my heart ; lovely virgins fluttered by me, darting imperial looks of conquest, or beaming such smiles of invita- tion, as did Gabriel when he beckoned our holy prophe.t to Heaven. Shall I own the weakness of thy friend, good Muley? — while thus gazing on the enchanted scene before me, I, for a moment, forgot my country ; and even the memory of my three-and-twenty wives faded from my heart ; my thoughts were bewildered and led astray by the charms of these bewitch- ing savages, and I sunk, for a while, into that delicious state of mind, where the senses, all enchanted, and all striving for mastery, produce an endless variety of tumultuous, yet pleas- SALMAOUNDL 249 ing emotions. Oh, Muley, never shall I again wonder that an infidel should prove a recreant to the single solitary wife allot- ted to him, when, even thy friend, armed with all the precepts of Mahomet, can so easily prove faithless to three-and-twenty ! "Whither have you led me?" said I, at length, to my com- panion, ''and to whom do these beautiful creatures belong? Certainly this must be the seragho of the grand bashaw of the city, and a most happy bashaw must he be, to possess treas- ures, which even his highness of Tripoh cannot parallel." "Have a care," cried my companion, "how you talk about seragHos, or you'll have all these gentle nymphs about your ears; for seraglio is a word which, beyond all others, they abhor; — most of them," continued he, "have no lord and master, but come here to catch one— they're in the market, as we term it." "Ah, hah!" said I, exultingly, " then you really have a fair, or slave-market, such as we have in the east, where the faithful are provided with the choicest virgins of Georgia and Circassia? by our glorious sun of Afric, but I should like to select some ten or a dozen wives from so lovely an assemblage ! Pray, what would you suppose they might be bought for?" Before I oould receive an answer, my attention was attracted by two or three good-looking, middle-sized men, who, being dressed in black, a colour universally worn in this country by the muftis and dervises, I immediately concluded to be high- priests, and was confirmed in my original opinion that this was a religious ceremony. These reverend personages are entitled managers, and enjoy unlimited authority in the assembhes, being armed with swords, with which, I am told, they would infallibly put any lady to death who infringed the laws of the temple. They walked round the room with great solemnity, and, with an air of profound importance and mystery, put a little piece of folded paper in each fair hand, which I concluded were religious talismans. One of them dropped on the floor, whereupon I slily put my foot on it, and, watching an oppor- tunity, picked it up unobserved, and found it to contain some unintelligible words and the mystic number 9. What were its • virtues I know not ; except that I put it in my pocket, and have hitherto been preserved from my fit of the lumbago, which I generally have about this season of the year, evei- since I tumbled into the well of Zim-zim on my pilgrimage to Mecca. I enclose it to thee in this letter, presuming it to be particularly serviceable against the dangers of thy profession,.. 250 iSALMA G UJSDI. Shortly after tlie distribution of these talismans, one of the high-priests stalked into the middle of the room with great majesty, and clapped his hands three times; a loud explosion of music succeeded from a number of black, yellow, and white musicians, perched in a kind of cage over the grand entrance. The company were thereupon throv»^n into great confusion and apparent consternation. — They hurried to and fro about the room, and at length formed themselves into httle groups of eight persons, half male and half female; — the music struck into something like harmony, and, in a moment, to my utter astonishment and dismay, they were all seized with what I concluded to be a paroxysm of religious phrenzy, tossing about their heads in a ludicrous style from side to side, and indulging in extravagant contortions of figure ; — now throwing their heels 'into the air, and anon whirling round with the velocity of the eastern idolaters, who think they pay a gi-ateful homage to the sun by imitating his motions. I expected every moment to see them fall down in convulsions, foam, at the mouth, and shriek with fancied inspiration. As usual the females seemed most fervent in their religious exercises, and performed them with a melancholy expression of feature that was peculiarly touching ; but I was highly gratified by the exemplary conduct of several male devotees, who, though their gesticulations would intimate a wild merriment of the feelings, maintained throughout as inflexible a gravity of countenance as so many monkeys of the island of Borneo at their anticks. "And pray," said I, "who is the divinity that presides in this splendid mosque?" "The divinity !— oh, I understand — you mean the helle of the evening; we have a new one every seasoii: the one at present in fashion is that lady you see yonder, dressed in white, with pink ribands, and a crowd of adorers around her." "Truly," cried I, "this is the pleasant- est deity I have encountered in the whole course of my travels ; —so familiar, so condescending, and so merry withal ; — why, her very worshippers take her by the hand, and whisper in her ear." "My good Mussulman," replied my friend, with great gravity, "I perceive you are completely in an error concern- ing the intent of this ceremony. You are now in a place of pubhc amusement, not of pubhc worship;— and the pretty- iooking young men you see making such violent and grotesque distortions, are merely indulging in our favourite amusement ^^, dancing." "I cry your mercy," exclaimed I, "these, then, 1^'^. the dancing men and women of the town, such as we have SALMAGUNDI. 251 in our principal cities, who hire themselves out for the enter- tainment of the wealthy ;— but, pray who pays them for this fatiguing exhibition?" My friend regarded me for a moment with an air of whimsical perplexity, as if doubtful whether I was in jest or earnest. " Sblood, man," cried he, " these are some of our greatest people, our fashionables, who are merely dancing here for amusement." Dancing for amusement! think of that, Muley !— thou, whose greatest pleasure is to chew opium, smoke tobacco, loll on a couch, and doze thyself into the regions of the Houris l^ Dancing for amusement ! — shall I never cease having occasion to laugh at the absurdities of these barbarians, who are laborious in their recreations, and indolent only in their hours of business? Dancing for amuse- ment !— the very idea makes my bones ache, and I never think of it without being obhged to apply my handkerchief to my forehead, and fan myself into some degree of coolness. "And pray," said I, when my astonishment had a Httle subsided, "do these musicians also toil for amusement, or are they confined to their cage, like birds, to sing for the gratifica- tion of others?— I should think the Tormer was the case, from the animation with which they fiourish their elbows." — "Not so," replied my friend, " they are well paid, which is no more than just, for*I assure you they are the most important per- sonages in the room. The fiddler puts the whole assembly in motion, and directs their movements, like the master of a pup- pet-show, who sets all his pasteboard gentry kicking by a jerk of his fingers: — there, now — look at that dapper httle gentle- man yonder, who appears to be suffering the pangs of disloca- tion in every limb : he is the most expert puppet in the room, and performs, not so much for his own amusement, as for that of the by-standers." — Just then the httle gentleman, having finished one of hi^ paroxysms of activity, seemed to be looking round for applause from the spectators. Feeling myself really much obliged to him for his exertions, I made him a low bow of thanks, but nobody followed my example, which I thought a singular instance of ingratitude. Thou wilt perceive, friend Muley, that the dancing of these barbarians is totally different from the science professed by thee in Tripoli ; — the country, in fact, is aillioted by numerous epidemical diseases, which travel from house to house, from city to city, with the regularity of a caravan. Among these, the most formidable is this dancing mania, which prevails chiefly throughout the winter. It at first seized on a few peo - 252 SALMAQUNBl pie of fashion, and being iadulged in moderation, was a cheerful exercise ; but in a little time, by quick advances, it infected all classes of the community, and became a raging epidemic. The doctors immediately, as is their usual way, instead of devising a remedy, fell together by the ears, to decide whether it was native or imported, and the sticklers for the latter opinion traced it to a cargo, of trumpery from France, as they had before hunted down the yellow-fever to a bag of coffee from the West Indies. What makes this disease the more formidable is, that the patients seem infatuated with their malady, abandon themselves to its unbounded ravages, and expose their persons to wintry storms and midnight airs, more fatal, in this capricious climate, than the withering Simoom blast of the desert. I know not whether it is a sight most whimsical or melan- choly, to witness a fit of this dancing malady. The lady hops up to the gentleman, who stands at the distance of about three paces, and then capers back again to her place ; — the gentle- man of course does the same ; then they skip one way, then they jump another ; — then they turn their backs to each other ; — then they seize each other and shake hands ; then they whirl round, and throw themselves into a thousand grotesque and ridiculous attitudes ;— sometimes on one leg, sometimes on the other, and sometimes on no leg at all;— and this they call ex- hibiting the graces ! — By the nineteen thousand capers of the great mountebank of Damascus, but these graces must be something like the crooked-backed dwarf Shabrac, who is sometimes permitted to amuse his highness by imitating the tricks of a monkey. These fits continue at short intervals from four to five hours, till at last the lady is led off, faint, languid, exhausted,, and panting, to her carriage; — rattles home;— passes a night of feverish restlessness, cold perspira- tions and troubled sleep ; — rises late next morning, if she rises at all, is nervous, petulant, or a prey to languid indifference all day ;— a mere household spectre, neither giving nor receiv- ing enjoyment; in the evening hurries to another dance; re- ceives an unnatural exhilaration from the lights, the music, the crowd, and the unmeaning bustle ; — flutters, sparkles, and blooms for a while, until the transient delirium being past, the infatuated maid droops and languishes into apathy again ; — is again led off to her carriage, and the next morning rises to go through exactly the same joyless routine. And yet, wilt thou believe it, my dear Raggi, these are 8ALMA0VNDI. 253 rational beings : nay more, their countrymen would fain per- suade me they have souls !— Is it not a thousand times to be lamented that beings, endowed with charms that might warm even the frigid heart of a dervise ; — with social and endearing powers, that would render them the joy and pride of the harem ;— should surrender themselves to a habit of heartless dissipation, which preys imperceptibly on the roses of the cheek; — which robs the eye of its lustre, the mouth of its dimpled smile, the spirits of their cheerful hilarity, and the limbs of their elastic vigour ; — wliich hurries them off in the spring-time of existence ; or, if they survive, yields to the arms of a youthful bridegroom a frame wrecked in the storms of dissipation, and struggling with premature infirmity. Alas, Muley ! may I not ascribe to this cause, the number of little old women I meet with in this country, from the age of eigh- teen to eight-and-twenty? In sauntering down the room, my attention was attracted by a smoky painting, which, on nearer examination, I found consisted of two female figures crowning a bust with a wreath of laurel. "This, I suppose," cried I, "was some favoiu-ite dancer in his time?" — " Oh, no," replied my friend, "he was only a general." — "Good; but then he must have been great at a cotillion, or expert at a fiddlestick — or why is his memorial here?" — " Quite the contrary," answered my companion, " his- tory makes no mention of his ever having flourished a fiddle- stick, or figured in a single dance. You have no doubt, heard of him; he was the illustrious Washington, the father and dehverer of his country ; and, as our nation is remarkable for gratitude to great men, it always does honour to their mem- ory, by placing their monuments over the doors of taverns, or in the corners of dancing-roonas." From thence my friend and I strolled into a small apart- ment adjoining the grand saloon, where I beheld a number of grave-looking persons with venerable gray heads, but without beards, which I thought very unbecoming, seated around a table, studying hieroglyphics ;— I approached them with rever- ence as so many magi, or learned men, endeavouring to expound the mysteries of Egyptian science: several of them threw down money, which I supposed was a reward proposed for some great discovery, when presently one of them spread his hieroglyphics on the table, exclaimed triumphantly, " two bullets and a bragger!" and swept all the money into his pocket. He has discovered a key to the hieroglyphics, thought 254 SALMAQUNBI. I ;— happy mortal ! no doubt his name will be immortalized. Willing, however, to be satisfied, I looked round on my com- panion with an inquiring eye— he understood me, and in- formed me, that these were a company of friends, who had met together to win each other's money, and be agreeable. "Is that all?" exclaimed I, "why, then, I pray you, make way, and let me escape from this temple of abominations, or who knows but these people, who meet together to toil, worry, and fatigue themselves to death, and give it the name of pleas- ure ; — and who win each other's money by way of being agree- able ; — may some one of them take a liking to me, and pick my pocket, or break my head in a paroxysm of hearty good- will I" Thy friend, Mustapha. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libera Pulsanda tellus. —Hor. Now is the tyme for wine and myrthf ul sportes, For dance, and song, and disportes of syche sortes. — Link. Fid. The winter campaign has opened. Fashion has summoned her numerous legions at the sound of trumpet, tamborine, and drum ; and all the harmonious minstrelsy of the orchestra, to hasten from the dull, silent, and insipid glades and groves, where they have vegetated during the summer; recovering from the ravages of the last winter's campaign. Our fair ones have hurried to town, eager to pay their devotions to this tute- lary deity, and to make an offering at her shrine of the few pale and transient roses they gathered in their healthful re- treat. The fiddler rosins his bow, the card-table devotee is shufiaing her pack ; the young ladies are industriously spang- ling muslins; and the tea-party heroes are airing their cha- peaux bras, and pease-blossom breeches, to prepare for figur- ing in the gay circle of smiles, and graces, and beauty. Now the fine lady forgets her country friends in the hurry of fashionable engagements, or receives the simple intruder, who has foolishly accepted her thousand pressing invitations, with such politeness that the poor soul determines never to come again; — now the gay buck, who erst figured at Ballston, and SALMAGUNDI. 255 quaffed the pure spring, exchanges the sparkling water for still more sparkling champaign ; and deserts the nymph of the foimtain, to enlist under the standard of jolly Bacchus. In short, now is the important time of the year in which to har- angue the bon-ton reader ; and, hke some ancient hero in front of the battle, to spirit him up to deeds of noble daring, or still more noble suffering, in the ranks of fashionable warfare. Such, indeed, has been my intention; but the nmnber of cases which have lately come before me, and the variety of complaints I have received from a crowd of honest and well- meaning correspondents, call for more iminediate attention. A host of appeals, petitions, and letters of advice are now be- fore me ; and I believe the shortest way to satisfy my peti- tioners, memorialists, and advisers, will be to publish their letters, as I suspect the object of most of them is merely to get into print. TO ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Sir: — As you appear to have taken to yourself the trouble of meddling in the concerns of the beau monde, I take the hberty of appealing to you on a subject which, though con- sidered merely as a very good joke, has occasioned me gi-eat vexation and expense. You must know I pride myself on being very useful to the ladies : that is, I take boxes for them at the theatre; go shopping with them, supply them with bouquets, and furnish them with novels from the circulating library. In consequence of these attentions, I am become a great favourite, and there is seldom a party going on in. the city without my having an invitation. The grievance I have to mention is the exchange of hats which takes place on these occasions; for, to speak my mind Jreely, there are certain young gentlemen who seem to consider fashionable parties a^ mere places to barter old clothes ; and I am informed that a number of them manage, by this great system of exchange, to keep their crowns decently covered without their hatter suffer- ing in the least by it. It was but lately that I went to a private ball with a new hat, and on returning, in the latter part of the evening, and asking for it, the scoundrel of a servant, with a broad grin, informed me that the new hats had been dealt out half an hour since, and they were then on the tliird quality ; and I was in 256 SALMAGUNDI. the end obliged to borrow a young lady's beaver rather than go home with any of the ragged remnants that were left. ' Now I would wish to know if there is no possibility of hav- ing these offenders punished by law; and whether it would not be advisable for ladies to mention in their cards of invita- tion, as a postscript, "steahngof hats and shawls positively prohibited." At any rate I would thank you, Mr. Evergreen, to discountenance the thing totally, by publishing in your paper that stealing a hat is no joke. Your humble servant, Walter Withers. My correspondent is informed that the police have deter- mined to take this matter into consideration, and have set apart Saturday mornings for the cognizance of fashionable larcenies. Mr. Evergreen — Sir: — Do you think a married woman may lawfully put her husband right in a story, before strangers, when she knows him to be in the wrong; and can any thing authorize a wife in the exclamation of— "lord, my dear, how can you say so?" Margaret Timson. Dear Anthony: — Going down Broadway this morning in a great hurry, I ran full against an object which at first put me to a prodigious nonplus. Observing it to be dressed in a man's hat, a cloth overcoat and spatterdashes, I framed my apology accordingly, exclaiming, "my dear sir, I ask ten thousand pardons ;— I assure you, sir, it was entirely accidental : — pray excuse me, sir," &c. At every one of these excuses the thing answered me with a downright laugh ; at which I was not a little surprised, until, on resorting to my pocket-glass, I dis- covered that it was no other than my old acquaintance, Cla- rinda Trollop ; — I never was more chagrined in my life ; for being an old bachelor, I like to appear as young as possible, and am always boasting of the goodness of my eyes. I beg of you, Mr. Evergreen, if you have any feeling for your contem- poraries, to discourage this hermaphrodite mode of dress, for really, if the fashion take, we poor bachelors will be utterly at a loss to distinguish a woman from a man. Pray let me know your opinion, sir, whether a lady who wears a man's hat and spatterdashes before marriage, may not be apt to usurp some other article of his dress afterwards. Your humble servant, Roderic Worry. SALMA G UNDI. 257 Dear Mr. Evergreen :— The other night, at Richard the Third, I sat behind three gentlemen, who talked very loud on the subject of Richard's wooing Lady Ann directly in the face of his crimes against that lady. One of them declared such an unnatural scene would be hooted at in China. Pray, sir, was that Mr. Wizard? Selina Badger. P. S. The gentleman I allude to had a pocket-glass, and wore his hair fastened behind by a tortoise-shell comb, with two teeth wanting. Mr. Evergrin — Sir: — Being a little curious in the affairs of the toilette, I was much interested by the sage Mustapha's remarks, in your last number, concerning the art of manu- facturing a modern Jfine lady. I would have you caution your fair readers, however, to be very careful in the management of their machinery; as a deplorable accident happened last assembly, in consequence of the architecture of a lady's figure not being sufiiciently strong. In the middle of one of the cotillions, the company was suddenly alarmed by a , tj-e- mendous crash at the lower end of the room, and, on crowding to the place, discovered that it was a fine figure which had unfortunately broken down from too great exertion in a pigeon "sving. By great good luck I secured the corset, which I carried home in triumph; and the next morning had it publicly dissected, and a lecture read on it at Surgeon's Hall. I have since commenced a dissertation on the subject; in AYhich I shall treat of the superiority of those figures manu- factured by steel, stay-tape, and whale-bone^ to those formed by dame nature. I shall show clearly that the Venus de Medicis has no pretension to beauty of form, as she never wore stays, and her ^--aist is in exact proportion to the rest of her body. I shall inquire into the mysteries of compression, and how tight a figure can be laced^ without danger of faint- ing; and whether it would not be advisable for a lady, when dressing for a ball, to be attended by the family physician, as culprits are when tortured on the rack, to know how much more nature will endure. I shall prove that ladies have disi covered the secret of that notorious juggler, who offered to squeeze himself into a quart bottle ; and I shall demonstrate, to the satisfaction of every fashionable reader, that there is a degree of heroism in purchasing a preposterously slender waist at the expense of an old age of decrepitude and rheu- 258 SALMAOUNDL matics. This dissertation shall be published as soon as fin- ished, and distributed gratis among boarding-school madams and all worthy matrons who are ambitious that their daughters should sit strait, move like clock-work, and "do credit to their bringing up." In the mean time, I have hung up the skeleton of the corset in the museum, beside a dissected weazle and a stuffed aUigator, where it may be inspected by all those naturalists who are fond of studying the "human form divine." Yours, &c. Julian Cognous. P.S. By accurate calculation I find it is dangerous for a fine figure, when full dressed, to pronounce a word of more than three syllables. Fine Figure, if in love, may indulge in a gentle sigh ; but a sob is hazardous. Fine Figure may smile with safety, may even venture as far as a giggle, but must never risk a loud laugh. Figure must never play the part of a confidante; as at a tea-party some fine evenings since, a young lady, whose unparalleled impalpability of waist was the envy of the drawing-room, burst with an important secret, and had three ribs — of her corset ! — fractured on the spot. Mr. Evergreen — Sir: — I am one of those industrious gem- men who labour hard to obtain currency in the fashionable world. I have went to great expense in little boots, short vests, and long breeches ; — my coat is regularly imported, per stage, from Philadelphia, duly insured against all risks, and my boots are smuggled from Bond-street. I have lounged in Broadway with one of the most crooked walking-sticks I could procure, and have sported a pair of salmon-coloured small- clothes, and fiame-coloured stockings, at every concert and ball to which I could purchase admission. Being affeared that I might possibly appear to less advantage as a pedestrian, in consequence of my being rather short and a httle bandy, I have lately hired a tall horse with cropped ears and a cocked tail, on which I have joined the cavalcade of pretty gemmen, who exhibit bright stirrups every fine morning in Broadway and take a canter of two miles per day, at the rate of three hundred dollars per annum. But, sir, all this expense has been laid out in vain, for I can scarcely get a partner at an assembly, or an invitation to a tea-party. Pray, sir, inform me what more I can do to acquire admission into the true stylish circles, and whether it would not be advisable to SALMAGUNDI. ' 269 charter a curricle for a month and have my cypher put on it, as is done by certain dashers of my acquaintance. Yours to serve, Malvolio Dubster. TEA: A POEM, FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. And earnestly recommended to the attention of all Maidens of a certain age. Old time, my dear girls, is a knave who in truth From the fairest of beauties will pilfer their youth; Who, by constant attention and wily deceit, For ever is coaxing some guace to retreat; And, like crafty seducer, with subtle approach, The further indulged, will still further encroach. Since this "thief of the world" has made off with your bloom, And left you some score of stale years in its room- Has depriv'd you of all those gay dreams, that would dance In your brains at fifteen, and your bosoms entrance ; And has forc'd you almost to renounce, in despair. The hope of a husband's affection and care — Since such is thccase, and a case rather hard I Permit one who holds you in special regard. To furnish such hints in your loveless estate As may shelter your names from distraction and hate. Too often our maidens, grown aged, I ween. Indulge to excess in the workings of spleen ; And at times, when annoy'd by the slights of mankind, Work off their resentment— by speaking their mind: Assemble together in snuff -taking clan, And hold round the tea-urn a solemn divan. A convention of tattling— a tea party hight. Which, like meeting of witches, is brew'd up at night : Where each matron arrives, fraught with tales of surprise, With knowing suspicion and doubtful surmise ; Like the broomstick whirl'd hags that appear in Macbeth, Each bearing some relic of venom or death, " To stir up the toil and to double the trouble, That fire may burn, and that cauldron may bubble." 260 • SALMAGUNDI. When the party commences, all starch'd and all glimi^ They talk of the weather, their corns, or sit mmn: They will tell you of cambric, of ribands, of lace. How cheap they were sold— and will name you the place. They discourse of their colds, and they hem and they cough^ And complain of their servants to pass the time off; Or list to the tale of some doating mamma How her ten weeks' old baby will laugh and say taa 1 But tea, that enlivener of wit and of soul — More loquacious by far than the draughts of the bowl, Soon unloosens the tongue and enlivens the mind. And enlightens their eyes to die faults of mankind. 'Twas thus with the Pythia, who served at the founts That flow'd near the far-famed Parnassian mount, While the steam was inhal'd of the sulphuric spring. Her vision expanded, her fancy took wing; — By its aid she pronounced the oracular will That Apollo commanded his sons to fufill. But alas ! the sad vestal, performing the rite, Appear'd like a demon— terrific to sight. E'en the priests of Apollo averted their eyes, And the temple of Delphi resounded her cries, But quitting the nymph of the tripod of yore, We return to the dames of the tea-pot once more. In harmless chit-chat an acquaintance they roast, And serve up a friend, as they serve up a toast ; Some gentle faux pas, or some female mistake, Is like sweetmeats delicious, or rehshed as cake ; A bit of broad scandal is like a dry crust. It would stick in the throat, so they butter it first With a little affected good-nature, and cry "No body regrets the thing deeper than I." Our young ladies nibble a good name in play As for pastime they nibble a biscuit away : While with shrugs and surmises, the toothless old dame, As she mumbles a crust she will mumble a name. And as the f eU sisters astonished the Scot, In predicting of Banquo's descendants the lot. Making shadows of kings, amid flashes of hght. To appear in array and to frown in his sight, So they conjure up spectres all hideous in hue, Which, as shades of their neighbours, are passed in review. SALMAGUNDI 261 The wives of our cits of inferior degree, Will soak up repute in a little bohea; The potion is vulgar, and vulgar the slang With which on their neighbours' defects they harangue; But the scandal improves, a refinement in wrong 1 As our matrons are richer and rise to souchong. With hyson— a beverage that's still more refin'd, Our ladies of fashion enliven their mind, And by nods, innuendoes, and hints, and what not, Eeputations and tea send together to pot. While madam in cambrics and la,ces array'd, With her plate and her liveries in splendid parade, WlQ drink in imperial a friend at a sup. Or in gunpowder blow them by dozens all up. Ah me ! how I groan when with full swelling sail Wafted stately along by the favouring gale, A China ship proudly arrives in our bay. Displaying her streamers and blazing away. Oh 1 more fell to our port, is the cargo she bears, Than grenadoes, torpedoes, or warlike affairs : Each chest is a bombshell thrown into our town To shatter repute and bring character down. Ye Samquas, ye Chinquas, Chouquas, so free. Who discharge on our coast your cursed quantums of tea, Oh think, as ye waft the sad weed from your strand. Of the plagues and vexations ye deal to our land. As the Upas' dread breath, o'er the plain where it flies, Empoisons and blasts each green blade that may rise, So, wherever the leaves of your shrub find their way. The social affections soon suffer decay : Like to Java's drear waste they embarren the heart, Till the blossoms of love and of friendship depart. Ah, ladies, and was it by heaven design'd. That ye should be merciful, loving and kind ! Did it form you like angels, and send you below - To prophesy peace— to bid charity flow ! And have ye thus left your primeval estate. And wandered so widely — so strangely of late? Alas ! the sad cause I too plainly can see— These evils have all come upon you through tea ! Cursed weed, that can make our fair spirits resign The character mild of their mission divine ; 262 SALMAGUJyBL That can blot from their bosoms that tenderness true, Which from female to female for ever is due ! Oh, how nice is the texture — how fragile the frame Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair fame ! 'Tis the sensitive plant, it recoils from the breath And shrinks from the touch as if pregnant with death. How often, how often, has innocence sigh'd ; Has beauty been reft of its honour— its pride ; Has virtue, though pure as an angel of light, Been painted as dark as a demon of night : All offer'd up victims, an auto da fe, At the gloomy cabals— the dark orgies of tea! If I, in the remnant that's left me of life, Am to suffer the torments of slanderous strife, Let me fall, I implore, in the slang- whanger's claw, Where the evil is open, and subject to law. Not nibbled, and mumbled, and put to the rack. By the sly underminings of tea party clack : Condemn me, ye gods, to a newspaper roasting. But spare me I oh, spare me, a tea table toasting! NO. XX.-MONDAY JANUAKY 25, 1808. PROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Extremum hunc mihi concede laborem. ViRO. " Soft you, a word or two before we part." In this season of festivity, when the gate of time swings open on its hinges, and an honest rosy-faced New- Year comes waddling in, Hke a jolly fat-sided alderman, loaded with good wishes, good humour, and minced pies ;— at this joyous era it has been the custom, from time immemorial, in this ancient and respectable city, for periodical writers, from reverend, grave, and potent essayists like ourselves! down to the humble but industrious editors of magazines, reviews, and newspapers, to tender their subscribers the compliments of the season; and when they have shly thawed their hearts with SALMAGUNDI. 203 a little of the sunshine of flattery, to conclude by delicately dunning them for their arrears of subscription money. In Uke manner the carriers of newspapers, who undoubtedly belong to the ancient and honourable order of hterati, do regu- larly, at the commencement of the year, salute their patrons with abundance of excellent advice, conveyed in exceeding good poetry, for which the aforesaid good-natured patrons are well pleased to pay them exactly twenty -five cents. In walk- ing the streets I am every day saluted with good wishes from old gray-headed negroes, whom I never recollect to have seen before ; and it was but a few days ago, that I was called to receive the compliments of an ugly old woman, who last spring was employed by Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room and put things in order; a phi^se which, if rightly under- stood, means little else than huddling every thing into holes' and corners, so that if I want to find any particular article, it is, in the language of an humble but expressive saying,— "looking for a needle in a haystack." Not recognizing my visitor, I demanded by what authority she wished me a "Happy New- Year?" Her claim was one of the weakest she could have urged, for I have an innate and mortal antipathy to this custom of putting things to rights ;— so giving the old witch a pistereen, I desired her forthwith to mount her broom- stick, and ride off as fast as possible. Of all the various ranks of society, the bakers alone, to their immortal honour be it recorded, depart from this prac- tice of making a market of congratulations ; and, in addition to always allowing thirteen to the dozen, do with great liber- ality, instead of drawing on the purses of their customers at the New- Year, present them with divers large, fair, spiced cakes; which, like the shield of Achilles, or an Egyptian obehsk, are adorned with figures of a variety of strange animals, that, in their conformation, out-marvel all the wild wonders of nature. This honest gray-beard custom of setting apart a certain portion of this good-for-nothing existence for the purposes of cordiality, social merriment, and good cheer, is one of the inestimable relics handed down to us from our worthy Dutch ancestors. In perusing one of the manuscripts from my worthy grandfather's mahogany chest of drawers, I find the new year was celebrated with great festivity during that golden age of our city, when the reins of government were held by the renowned Eip Yan Dam, who always did honour 264 SALMAGUNDI. to the season by seeing out the old year; a ceremony which consisted in plying his guests with bumpers, until not one of them was capable of seeing. "Trxily," observes my grand- father, who was generally of these parties — " Truly, he was a most stately and magnificent burgomaster! inasmuch as he did right lustily carouse it with his friends about New- Year ; roasting huge quantities of turkeys; baking innumerable minced pies; and smacking the hps of ail fair ladies the which he did meet, with such sturdy emphasis that the same might have been heard the distance of a stone's throw." In his days, according to my grandfather, were first invented these notable cakes, hight new-year-cookies, which originally were impressed on one side with the honest, burly counte- nance of the illustrious Eip ; and on the other with that of the noted St. Nicholas, vulgarly called Santaclaus; — of all the saints in the kalendar the most venerated by true Hollanders, and their unsophisticated descendants. These cakes are to this time given on the first of January to all visitors, together with a glass of cherry-bounce, or raspberry-brandy. It is wifh great regret, however, I observe that the simplicity of this venerable usage has been much violated by modern pretend- ers to style! and our respectable new-year-cookies, and cherry-bounce, elbowed aside by plum-cake and outlandish liqueurs, in the same way that our worthy old Dutch famihes are out-dazzled by modern upstarts, and mushroom cockneys. In addition to this divine origin of ncAv-year festivity ; there is something exquisitely grateful, to a good-natured mind, in seeing every face dressed in smiles;— in hearing the oft- repeated salutations that flow spontaneously from the heart to the hps;— in beholding the poor, for once, enjoying the smiles of plenty, and forgetting the cares which press hard upon them, in the jovial revelry of the feelings;— the young children decked out in their Sunday clothes and freed from their only cares, the cares of the school, tripping through the streets on errands of pleasure ; — and even the very negroes, those hohday- loving rogues, gorgeously arrayed in cast-off finery, collected in juntos, at corners, displaying their white teeth, and makmg the welkin ring with bursts of laughter,— loud enough to crack even the icy cheek of old winter. There is something so pleas- ant in all this, that I confess it would give me real pain to behold the frigid influence of modern style cheating us of this jubilee of the heart ; and converting it, as it does every other article of social intercourse, into an idle and unmeaning cere- SALMAGUNUn. 265 mony. 'Tis the annual festival of good-hiiniour ;— it comes in the dead of winter, when nature is without a charm, when our pleasures are contracted to the fireside, and when every thing that unlocks the icy fetters of the heart, and sets the genial current flowing, should he cherished, as a stray lamb found in the wilderness ; or a flower bloommg among thorns and briers. Animated by these sentiments, it is with peculiar satisfaction I perceived that the last New- Year was kept with more than ordinary enthiisiasm. It seemed as if the good old times had rolled back again and brought with them all the honest, uncere- monious intercourse of those golden days, when people were more open and sincere, more moral, and more hospitable than now ; — when every object carried about it a charm which the hand of time has stolen away, or turned to a deformity ; when the women were more simple, more domestic, more lovely, and more true ; and when even the sun, hke a hearty old blade as he is, shone with a genial lustre unknown in these degenerate days: — in short, those fairy times, v^^hen I was a mad-cap boy, crowding every enjoyment into the present moment; — making of the past an oblivion ;— of the future a heaven ; and careless of all that was "over the hills and far away." Only one thing was wanting to make every part of the celebration accord with its ancient simplicity. The ladies, who— I write it with the most piercing regret — are generally at the head of all domestic innovations, most fastidiously refused that mark of good wiQ, that chaste and holy salute which was so fashionable in the happy days of governor Eip and the patriarchs. Even the Miss Cocklofts, who belong to a family that is the last intrench- ment behind which the manners of the good old school have retired, made violent opposition ; — and whenever a gentleman entered the room, inm.iediately put themselves in a posture of defence ; — this Will Wizard, with his usual shrewdness, insists was only to give the visitor a hint that they expected an attack ; and declares, he has uniformly observed, thavt the re- sistance of those ladies who make the greatest noise and bustle, is most easily overcome. This sad innovation originated with my good aunt Charity, who was as arrant a tabby as ever wore whiskers ; and I am not a little afflicted to find that she has found so many followers, even among the young and beautiful. In compliance with an ancient and venei-able custom, sanc- tioned by time and our ancestors, and more especially by my own inclinations, I will to.ke this opportunity to salute my readers with as many good wishes as I can possibly spare ; for, 266 SAxm-AQxnrDT. in truth, I have been so prodigal of late, that I have but few remaining. I should have offered my congratulations sooner; but, to be candid, having made the last new-year's campaign, according to custom, under cousin Christopher, in which I have seen some pretty hard service, my head has been some- what out of order of late, and my intellects rather cloudy for clear writing. Besides, I may allege as another reason, that I have deferred my greetings until this day, which is exactly one year since we introduced ourselves to the public; and surely periodical writers have the same right of dating from the commencement of their works that monarchs have from the time of their coronation ; or our most puissant repubUc from the declaration of its independence. These good wishes are warmed into more than usual benevo- lence by the thought that I am now, perhaps, addressing my old friends for the last time. That we should thus cut off our work in the very vigour of its existence may excite some little matter of wonder in this enlightened conununity. — Now, though we could give a variety of good reasons for so doing, yet it would be an ill-natured act to deprive the public of such an admirable oppor- tunity to indulge in their favourite amusement of conjecture : so we generously leave them to flounder in the smooth ocean of glorious uncertainty. Besides, we have ever considered it as beneath persons of our dignity to account for our movements or caprices ; — thank heaven, we are not like the unhappy rulers of this enlightened land, accountable to the mob for our actions, or dependent on their smiles for support !— this much, how- ever, we will say, it is not for want of subjects that we stop our career. We are not in the situation of poor Alexander the Great, who wept, as well indeed he might, because there were no more worlds to conquer ; for, to do justice to this queer, odd, rantipole city and this whimsical country, there is matter enough in them to keep our risible muscles and our pens going until doomsday. Most people, in taking a farewell which may, perhaps, be " for ever, are anxious to part on good terms ; and it is usual, on such melancholy occasions, for even enemies to shake hands, forget their previous quarrels, and bury all former animosities in parting regrets. Now, because most people do Miis, I am determined to act in quite a different way; for, as I have lived, so I should wish to die in my own way, without imita- ting any person, whatever may be his rank, talents, oi> reputa- tion. Besides, if I know our trio, we have no enmities to SALMAGUNDI. 267 obliterate, no hatchet to bury, and as to all injuries -those we have long since forgiven. At this moment there is not an individual in the world, "not even the Pope himself, to whom we have any personal hostility. But if, shutting their eyes to the many striking proofs of good-nature displayed through the whole course of this work, there should be any persons so singularly ridiculous as to take offence at our strictures, we heartily forgive their stupidity ; earnestly entreating them to desist from all manifestations of ill-humour, lest they should, peradventure, be classed under some one of the denominations of recreants we have felt it our duty to hold up to public ridi- cule. Even at this moment we feel a glow of parting philan- throphy stealing upon us; — a sentiment of cordial good-^vill towards the numerous host of readers that have jogged on at our heels during the last year; and, in justice to ourselves, must seriously protest, that if at any time we have treated them a httle ungently, it was purely in that spirit of hearty affection with which a schoolmaster drubs an unlucky urchin, or a humane muleteer his recreant animal, at the very moment when his heart is brim-full of loving-kindness. If this is not considered an ample justification, so much the worse ; for in that case I fear we shall remain for ever unjustified ;— a most desperate extremity, and worthy of every man's commisera- tion! One circumstance in particular has tickled us mightily as we jogged along, and that is the astonishing secrecy with which we have been able to carry on our lucubrations ! Fully aware of the profound sagacity of the public of Gotham, and their wonderful faculty of distinguishing a writer by his style, it is with great self -congratulation we And that suspicion has never pointed to us as the authors of Salmagundi. Our gray-beard speculations have been most bountifully attributed to sundry smart young gentlemen, who, for aught we know, have no beards at all; and we have often been highly amused, when they were charged with the sin of writing what their harmless minds never conceived, to see them affect all the blushing modesty and beautiful embarrassment of detected virgin authors. The profound and penetrating public, having so long been led away from truth and nature by a constant perusal of those delectable histories and romances from be- yond seas, in which human nature is for the most part wickedly mangled and debauched, have never once imagined this work was a genuine and most authentic history ; that the 268 iSALMA G UNDL Cocklofts were a real family, dwelling in the city; — payipg scot and lot, entitled to the right of suffrage, and holding several respectable offices in the corporation. — As little do they suspect that there is a knot of merry old bachelors seated snugly in the old-fashioned parlour of an old-fashioned Dutch house, with a weathercock on the top that came from Holland, who amuse themselves of an evening by laughing at their neighbours in an honest way, and who manage to jog on through the streets of our ancient and venerable city without elbowing or being elbowed by a Uving soul. When we first adopted the idea of discontinuing this work, we determined, in order to give the critics a fair opportunity for dissection, to declare ourselves, one and all, absolutely defunct ; for, it is one of the rare and invaluable privileges of a periodical writer, that by an act of innocent suicide he may lawfully consign himself to the grave and cheat the world of posthumous renown. But we abandoned this scheme for many substantial reasons. In the first place, we care but little for the opinion of critics, who we consider a kind of free- booters in the republic of letters; who, hke deer, goats, and divers other graminivorous animals, gain subsistence by gorg- ing upon the buds and leaves of the young sliiiibs of the forest, thereby robbing them of their verdure and retarding their pro- gress to maturity. It also occurred to us, that though an author might lawfully in all countries kill himself outright, yet this privilege did not extend to the raising himself from the dead, if he was ever so anxious ; and all that is left him in such a case is to take the benefit of the metempsychosis act and revive under a new name and form. Far be it, therefore, from us to condemn om'selves to useless embarrassments, should we ever be disposed to resume the guardianship of this learned city of Gotham, and finish this invalua\)le work, which is yet but half completed. We hereby openly and seriously declare, that we are not dead, but intend, if it pleases Providence, to Hve for many years to come ;— to enjoy life with the genuine relish of honest souls; careless of riches, honours, and every thing but a good name, among good fellows ; and with the fuU expectation of shuffling off the renmant of existence, after the excellent fashion of that merry Grecian who died laughing. a ALMA G UNDL 3^59 TO THE LADIES. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Next to our being a knot of independent old bachelors, there is nothing on which we pride ourselves more highly than upon possessing that true chivalric spirit of gallantry, which dis- tinguished the days of king Arthur, and his valiant knights of the Round-table. We cannot, therefore, leave the lists where we have so long been tilting at folly, without giving a farewell salutation to those noble dames and beauteous damsels who have honoured us with their presence at the tourney. Like true knights, the only recompense we crave is the smile of beauty, and the approbation of those gentle fair ones, whose smile and whose approbation far excels all the trophies of honour, and all the rewards of successful ambition. True it is, that we have suffered infinite perils in standing forth as their champions, from the sly attacks of sundry arch caitiffs, who, in the overflowings of their malignity, have even accused us of entering the hsts as defenders of the very foibles and faults of the sex. — Would that we could meet with these recreants hand to hand ;— they should receive no more quarter than giants and enchanters in romance. Had we a spark of vanity in our natures, here is a glorious occasion to show our skill in refuting these illiberal msinua- tions ; — but there is something manly, and ingenuous, in mak- ing an honest confession of one's offences when about retiring from the world ; — and so, without any more ado, we doff our helmets and thus -publicly plead guilty to the deadly sin of OOOD NATURE; hoping and expecting forgiveness from our good-natured readers, — yet careless whether they bestow it or not. And in this we do but imitate sundry condemned criminals, who, finding themselves convicted of a capital crime, with great openness and candour do generally in their last dying speech make a confession of all their jH-e- vious offences, which confession is always read with great dehght by all true lovers of biography. Still, however, notwithstanding our notorious devotion to the gentle sex, and our indulgent partiality, we have endea- 270 SALMA G UNDI. voured, on divers occasions, with all the polite and becoming dehcacy of true respect, to reclaim them from many of those delusive f oUies and unseemly peccadilloes in which they are unhappily too prone to indulge. We have warned them against the sad consequences of encountertug our midnight damps and withering wintry blasts;— we have endeavoured, with pious hand, to snatch them from the wildering mazes of the waltz, and thus rescuing them from the arms of strangers, to restore them to the bosoms of their friends; to preserve them from the nakedness, the famine, the cobweb mushns, the vinegar cruet, the corset, the stay-tape, the buckram, and all the other miseries and racks of a fine figure. But, above all, we have endeavoured to lure them from the mazes of a dissi- pated world, where they wander about, careless of their value, until they lose their original worth ; — and to restore them, be- fore it is too late, to the sacred asylum of home, the soil most congenial to the opening blossom of female loveliness ; where it blooms and expands in. safety, in the fostering sunshine of maternal affection, and where its heavenly sweets are best known and appreciated. Modem philosophers may determine the proper destination of the sex; — they may assign to them an extensive and brilliant orbit, in which to revolve, to the delight of the million and the confusion of man's superior intellect ; but when on this subject we disclaim philosophy, and appeal to the higher tribunal of the heart ;— and what heart that had not lost its better feelings, would ever seek to repose its happiness on the bosom of one whose pleasures all lay without the threshold of home;— who snatched enjoyment only in the whirlpool of dissipation, and amid the thoughtless and evanescent gayety of a ballroom. The fair one who is for ever in the career of amusement, may for a while dazzle, astonish, and entertain ; but we are content with coldly admiring ; and fondly turn from ^tter and noise, to seek the happy fire-side of social life, there to confide our dearest and best affections. Yet some there are, and we delight to mention them, who mingle freely with the world, unsullied by its contaminations ; whose brilliant minds, like the stars of the firmament, are destined to shed their hght abroad and gladden every beholder with their radiance ;— to withhold them from the world, would be doing it injustice ; — ^they are inestimable gems, which were never formed to be shut up in caskets ; but to be the pride and ornament of elegant society. SALMAGUNDI. 271 We have endeavoured always to discriminate between a female of this superior order, and the thoughtless votary of pleasure; who, destitute of intellectual resources, is servilely dependent on others for every little pittance of enjoyment; who exhibits herself incessantly amid the noise, the giddy frohc, and capricious vanity of fashionable assemblages ; dissipating her languid affections on a crowd ; lavishing her ready smiles with indiscriminate prodigality on the worthy, or the undeserv- ing ; and hstening, with equal vacancy of mind, to the con- versation of the enhghtened, the frivolity of the coxcomb, and the flourish of the fiddle-stick. There is a certain artificial polish, a commonplace vivacity acquired by perpetually mingling in the beau monde ; which, in the commerce of the world, suppHes the place of natural suavity of good humour; but is purchased at the expense of all original and sterling traits of character. By a kind of fashion- able discipline, the eye is taught to brighten, the lip to smile, and the whole countenance to irradiate with the semblance of friendly welcome, while the bosom is unwarmed by a single spark of genuine kindness or ^ood-will. — This elegant simula- tion may be admired by the connoisseur of human character, as a perfection of art ; but the heart is not to be deceived by the superficial illusion ; it turns with delight to the timid re- tiring fair one, whose smile is the smile of nature; whose blush is the soft suffusion of deUcate sensibility ; and whose affections, unblighted by the chilling effects of dissipation, glow with all the tenderness and purity of artless youth. Hers is a singleness of mind, a native innocence of manners, and a sweet timidity, that steal insensibly upon the heart, and lead it a willing captive ; though venturing occasionally among the fairy haunts of pleasure, she shrinks from the broad glare of notoriety, and seems to seek refuge among her friends, even from the admiration of the world. These observations bring to mind a Uttle allegory in one of the manuscripts of the sage Mustapha; which, being in some measure apphcable to the subject of this essay, we transcribe for the benefit of our fair readers. Among the numerous race of the Bedouins, who people the vast tracts of Arabia Deserta, is a small tribe, remarkable for their habits of solitude and love of independence. They are of a rambling disposition, roving from waste to waste, slaking their thirst at such scanty pools as are found in those cheerless plains, and glory in the unenvied hberty they enjoy. A youth- 272 SALMAGUNDI. ful Arab bf this tribe, a simple son of nature, at length grow- ing weary of his precarious and unsettled mode of life, deter- mined to set out in search of some permanent abode. "I will seek," said he, "some happy region, some generous cUme, where the dews of heaven diffuse fertility ;— I will find out some imfailing stream ; and, forsaking the joyless life of my forefathers, settle on its borders, dispose my mind to gentle pleasures and tranquil enjoyments, and never wander more." Enchanted with this picture of pastoral felicity, he departed from the tents of his companions; and having journeyed during five days, on the sixth, as the sun was just rising in all the splendours of the east, he hfted up his eyes and beheld ex- tended before him, in smiling luxuriance, the fertile regions of Arabia the Happy. Gently swelling hills, tufted with bloom- ing groves, swept down into luxuriant vales, enameled with flowers of never- withering beauty. The sun, no longer darting his rays with torrid fervour, beamed with a genial warmth that gladdened and enriched the landscape. A pure and tem- perate serenity, an air of voluptuous repose, a smile of con- tented abundance, pervaded the face of nature; and every zephyr breathed a thousand delicious odours. The soul of the youthful wanderer expanded with delight ; — he raised his eyes to heaven, and almost mingled with his tribute of gratitude a sigh of regret that he had lingered so long amid the sterile sohtudes of the desert. With fond impatience he hastened to make choice of a stream where he might fix his habitation, and taste the pro- mised sweets of this land of delight. But here commenced an unforeseen perplexity; for, though he beheld innumerable streams on every side, yet not one could he find which com- pletely answered his high-raised expectations. One abounded with wild and picturesque beauty, but it was capricious and unsteady in its course ; sometimes dashing its angry billows against the rocks, and often raging and overflowing its banks. Another flowed smoothly along, without even a ripple or a murmur ; but its bottom was soft and muddy, and its current dull and sluggish. A third was pure and transparent, but its waters were of a chilling coldness, and it had rocks and flints in its bosom. A fourth was dulcet in its tinklings, and graceful in its meanderings ; but it had a cloying sweetness that palled upon the taste ; while a fifth possessed a sparkling vivacity, and a pungency of flavour, that deterred the wanderer from repeating his draught. SALMAGUNDI. 273 The youthful Bedouin began to weary with fruitless trials and repeated disappointments, when his attention was sudden- ly attracted hj a hvely brook, whose dancing waves glittered in the sunbeams, and whose pratthng current communicated an air of bewitching gayety to the surrounding landscape. The heart of the wayworn traveller beat with expectation ; but on regarding it attentively in its course, he found that it con. stantly avoided the embowering shade; loitering with equal fondness, whether gliding through the rich valley, or over the barren sand ;— that the fragrant flower, the fruitful shrub, and worthless bramble were ahke fostered by its waves, and that its current was often interrupted by unprofitable weeds. With idle ambition, it expanded itself beyond its proper bounds, and spread into a shallow waste of water, destitute of beauty or utihty, and babbling along with uninteresting vivacity and vapid turbulence. The wandering son of the desert turned away with a sigh of regret, and pitied a stream which, if content within its natural limits, might have been the pride of the valley, and the object of all his wishes. Pensive, musing, and disappointed, he slowly pursued his now almost hopeless pilgrimage, and had rambled for some time along the margin of a gentle rivulet, before he became sensible of its beauties. It was a simple pas- toral stream, which, shunning the noonday glare, pursued its unobtrusive course through retired and tranquil vales ; — now dimpling among flowery banks and tufted shrubbery; now winding among spicy groves, whose aromatic foliage fondly bent down' to meet the limpid wave. Sometimes, but not often, it would venture from its covert to stray through a flowery meadow ; but quickly, as if fearful of being seen, stole back again into its more congenial shade, and there lingered with sweet delay. Wherever it bent its course, the face of nature biightened into smiles, and a perennial spring reigned upon its borders. — The warblers of the woodland delighted to quit their recesses and carol among its bowers : while the tur- tle-dove, the timid fawn, the soft-eyed gazelle, and all the rural populace, who joy in the sequestered haunts of nature, resorted to its vicinity.— Its pure, transparent waters roUed over snow-white sands, and heaven itself was reflected in its tranquil bosom. The simple Arab threw himself upon its verdant margin ; — he tasted the silver tide, and it was Hke nectar to his lips ; — he bounded with transport, for he had found the object of his 274 SALMAGUNDI. wayfaring. "Here," cried he, "will I pitch my tent:— here will I pass my days ; for pure, oh, fair stream, is thy gentle current ; beauteous are thy borders ; and the grove must be a paradise that is refreshed by thy meanderings !'* Pendant opera interrupta. — Virg. The work's all aback, —Link. Fid. "How hard it is," exclaimed the divine Con-futse, better known among the ilHterate by the name of Confucius, " for a man to bite off his own nose!" At this moment I, WilMam Wizard, Esq., feel the full force of this remark, and cannot but give vent to my tribulation at being obUged, through the whim of friend Langstaff , to stop short in my literary career, when at the very point of astonishing my country, and reaping the brightest laurels of literature. We daily hear of shipwrecks, of failures and bankruptcies ; they are trifling mishaps which, from their frequency, excite but little astonishment or sym- pathy ; but it is not often that we hear of a man's letting im- mortality slip through his fingers; and when he does meet with such a misfortune, who would deny him the comfort of bewaUing his calamity? Next to embargo, laid upon our commerce, the greatest public annoyance is the embargo laid upon our work; in consequence of which the produce of my wits, like that of my country, must remain at home ; and my , ideas like so many merchantmen in port, or redoubtable frigates in the Potomac, moulder away in the mud of my own brain. I know of few things in this world more annoying than to be interrupted in the middle of a favourite story, at the most interesting part, where one expects to shine ; or to have a conversation broken off just when you are about coming out with a score of excel- lent jokes, not one of which but was good enough to make every fine figure in corsets split her sides with laughter. In some such predicament am I placed at present ; and I do pro- test to you, my good-looking and well-beloved readers, by the chop-sticks of the immortal Josh, I was on the very brink of treating you with a full broadside of the most ingenious and instructive essays that your precious noddles were ever both- ered with. SALMA O UNDI. 275 In the first place, I had, with infinite labour and pains, and by consulting the divine Plato, Sanconiathon, Apollonius, Rhodius, Sir John Harrington, Noah Webster, Linkum Fidel- ius, and others, fully refuted all those wild theories respecting the first settlement of our venerable country ; and proved, be- yond contradiction, that America, so far from being, as the writers of upstart Europe denominate it, the new world, is at least as old as any country in existence, not excepting Egypt, China, or even the land of the Assiniboins; which, according to the traditions of that ancient people, has already assisted at the funerals of thirteen suns and four hundred and seventy thousand moons ! I had likewise written a long dissertation on certain hiero- glyphics discovered on these fragments of the moon, which have lately fallen, with singular propriety, in a neighbouring state; — and have thrown consideraDle light on the state of literature and the arts in that planet ;— showing that the uni- versal language which prevails there is High Dutch ; thereby proving it to be the most ancient and original tongue, and cor roborating the opinion of a celebrated poet, that it is the lan- guage in which the serpent tempted our grandmother Eve. To support the theatric department, I had several very judicious critiques, ready written, wherein no quarter was shown either to authors or actors ; and I was only waiting to determine at what plays or performances they should be levelled. As to the grand spectacle of Cinderella, which is to be represented this season, I had given it a most unmerciful handling: showing that it was neither tragedy, comedy, nor farce; that the incidents were highly improbable, that the prince played Uke a perfect harlequin, that the white mice were merely powdered for the occasion, and that the new moon had a most outrageous copper nose. But my most profound and erudite essay in embryo is an analytical, hypercritical review of these Salmagundi lucubra- tions; which I had written partly in revenge for the many waggish jokes played off against me by my confederates, and partly for the purpose of saving much invaluable labour to the Zoiluses and Dennises of the age, by detecting and exposiag all the similarities, resemblances, synonymies, analogies, coinci- dences, &c., which occur in this work. I hold it downright plagiarism for any author to write, or even to think, in the same manner with any other writer that either did, doth, or may exist. It is a sage maxim of law — 276 SAL3IA0UNDL ^^ Ignorantia neminem excwsa^ "—and the same has been- ex' tended to hterature : so that if an author shall publish an idea that has been ever hinted by another, it shall be no exculpation for him to plead ignorance of the fact. All, therefore, that I had to do was to take a good pair of spectacles, or a magnify- ing glass, and with Salmagundi in hand, and a table full of books before me, to muse over them alternately, in a corner of Cockloft Hbrary: carefully comparing and contrasting all odd ends and fragments of sentences. Little did honest Launce suspect, when he sat lounging and scribbling in his elbow-chair, with no other stock to draw upon than his own brain, and no other authority to consult than the sage Linkum Fidelius ! — httle did he think that his careless, unstudied effu- sions would receive such scrupulous investigation. By laborious researches, and patiently collating words, where sentences and ideas did not correspond, I have detected sundry sly disguises and metamorphoses of which, I'll be bound, Langstaff himself is ignorant. Thus, for instance — The little man in black is evidently no less a personage than old Goody Blake, or goody something, filched from the Spec- tator, who confessedly filched her from Otway's "wrinkled hag with age grown double." My friend Launce has taken the honest old woman, dressed her up in the cast-off suit worn by Twaits, in Lampedo, and endeavoured to palm the imposture upon the enlightened inhabitants of Gotham. No further proof of the fact need be given, than that Goody Blake was taken for a witch ; and the little man in black for a conjuror ; and that they both Hved in villages, the inhabitants of which were distinguished by a most respectful abhorrence of hobgob- Hns and broomsticks ;— to be sure the astonishing similarity ends here, but surely that is enough to prove that the little man in black is no other than Goody Blake ia the disguise of a white witch. Thus, also, the sage Mustapha in mistaking a brag party for a convention of magi studying hieroglyphics, may pretend to originality of idea, and to a familiar acquaintance with the black-letter literati of the east ; — but this TripoHtan trick will not pass here ;— I refer those who wish to detect this larceny to one of those wholesale jumbles or hodge podge collections of science, which, Uke a tailor's pandemonium, or a giblet-pie, are receptacles for scientific fragments of all sorts and sizes. — The reader, learned in dictionary studies, will at once perceive I mean an encyclopaedia. There, under the title of magi, SALMAGUNDI. 277 Egypt, cards, or hieroglyphics, I forget which, will be dis- covered an idea similar to that of Mustapha, as snugly con- cealed as truth at the bottom of a well, or the rnistletoe amid the shady branches of an oak : and it may at any time be drawn from its lurking place, by those hewers of wood and drawers of water, who labour in humbler walks of criticism. This is assuredly a most unpardonable error of the sage Mus- tapha, who had been the captain of a ketch, and, of course, as your nautical men are for the most part very learned, ought to have known better. — But this is not the only blunder of the grave Mussulman, who swears by the head of Amrou, the beard of Barbarossa, and the sword of Khahd, as glibly as our good Christian soldiers anathematize body and soul, or^ sailor his eyes and odd limbs. Now I solemnly pledge myself to the world, that in all my travels through the east, in Persia, Arabia, China, and Egypt, I never heard man, woman, or child utter any of those preposterous and new-fangled assevera- tions; and that, so far from swearing by any man's head, it is considered, throughout the east, the greatest insult thcit can be offered to either the living or dead to meddle in any shape even with his beard. These are but two or three specimens of the exposures I would have made ; but I should have descended still lower; nor would have spared the most insignificant; and, or but, or nevertheless, provided I could have found a ditto in the Spectator or the dictionary ; — but all these minutiae I bequeath to the Lilliputian literati of this sagacious com- munity, who are fond of hunting "such small deer," and I earnestly pray they may find full employment for a twelve- month to come. But the most outrageous plagiarisms of friend Launcelot are those made on sundry living personages. Thus: Tom Strad- dle has been evidently stolen from a distinguished Brum- magem emigrant, since they both ride on horseback ;— Dabble, the little great man, has his origin in a certain aspiring coun- sellor, who is rising in the world as rapidly as the heaviness of his head will permit ; mine uncle John will bear a tolerable comparison, particularly as it respects the sterling quahties of his heart, with a worthy yeoman of Westchester county ; — and to deck out Aunt Charity, and the amiable Miss Cocklofts, he has rifled the charms of half the ancient vestals in this city. Nay, he has taken unpardonable Uberties with my own person I — elevating me on the substantial pedestals of a worthy gen- tleman from China, and tricking me out with claret coats, 278 SALMAGUNDI. tight breeches, and silver-sprigged dickeys, in such sort that I can scarcely recognize my own resemblance ; — whereas I abso- lutely declare that I am an exceeding good-looking man, neither too taU nor too short, too old nor too young, with a per- son indifferently robust, a head rather inclining to be large, an easy swing in my walk ; and that I wear my own hair, neither queued, nor cropped, nor turned up, but in a fair, pendulous oscillating club, tied with a yard of nine-penny black riband. And now, having said all that occurs to me on the present pathetic occasion,— having made my speech, wrote my eulogy, and drawn my portrait, I bid my readers an affectionate fare- well; exhorting them to live honestly and soberly ;— paying their taxes, and reverencing the state, the church, and the cor- poration ;— reading diligently the Bible and the almanac, the newspaper, and Salmagundi ;— which is all the reading an honest citizen has occasion for;— and eschewing all spirit of faction, discontent, irreligion, and criticism. Which is all at present. From their departed friend, William Wizard. THE END. ENOCH MORGAN'S SONS' SAP0L1O OLBAKS WINDOWS, MARBLE, KNIVES. POLISHES TIN-WARE, IEON,ST££L.dc«. 5ECRET OF gEAUTY. How to Beautify the Complexion. All women know that it is beauty, rather tlian genius, which all generations of men have worshipped in the sex. 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W.Criswell, of the Cincinnati Enquirer, profusely illustrated. A quaint literary creation. WIDOW BEDOTT PAPERS, by Mrs. Frances M. Whitcher, originally contributed to Neal's Saturday Gazette. THE CHOICE WORKS OF THOMAS HiOD, in Prose and Verse, including the cream of the Comic Annuals, with 200 illustrations. MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES, by Douglas Jerrold, editor of Punch. Mrs. Margaret Caudle's inimitable night lectures, delivered during a period of thirty years, to her sulky husband, Job Caudle. New Yorkt JOHN \r. IiOV£E.I< CO., 14 &; 16 Tesey Sfe IRRESISTIBLY DROLL GRANDFATHER LICKSHINGLE AND OTHER SKETOHEa By R. W. CRISWELL, of the Cincinnati Enquirer, Author of *' The New Shakespeare " and Other Travesties. I A VOLUME OF GEKUINE HUMOE! 1 vol., 12mo., cloth, gilt, $1.00 1 " " paper, ' 50 " Has made a wide reputation as a huvaonsX,^*-— Brooklyn Eagle. *' One of the acknowledged humorists of the day." — N. T. Mail and Express, *' Has acquired a national fame." — Utica Observer. '' His humor is as natural as sunlight." — Robt. J. Burdette. " Won a national reputation." — Pittsburgh Commercial Gazette, ** One of the brightest writers of the day." — Burlington Hawlceye. ** Has taken and held a place in the front rank." — N. Y. Truth. " There has been no brighter writer on the American press in the past fifteen years.". — Elmira Advertiser, **Mr. Criswell's writings are thoroughly original." — Bloomington Eye, *' A reputation enjoyed by few of his age." — Bradford Star, " His humor is quaint and scholarly." — Cincinnati Catholic Tele- graph, " He imitates nobody." — New Yorh Sun, " Has made a world-wide reputation."— ZowimZZe Cowrier-Joumal, JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, Publishers, 14 & 16 Vesey Street. New Tork. Maim iii—iii.ti LO ^^ELL'S libmry:-catalogue. 116. 317. 318. 119. ■}-iO 121. 12^. VZi. ICR. r 1 i • 185. VJO. V-7. inn. 140. 141. U2. Wi. H4. 145. 146. 147. 14^. 149. 150. 151. 15>i. Ii3. 154. 155, 15i5. 1ST. 158. 160. 161. MoTcWordB About the Bible, hy Rf V, JaB. S. BnPh 20 ; Lecoq, Gaboriau Pt. I . . 20 Lecoq. Pt. II 20 ■ -jof Irish History, by .iusaji a. McCarthy 10 The Leroiige Cat'ui;«r 20 'lashc?.. .,..,.,., 20 .«3 and MarpueriteH, by • !i chess , 10 Mr Srarborongb's Family, by Anrnony Trolfr-De, P )rt 1 L^J Mr ScuvaorouL'* " Ttll 15 Arden, by A. > ^oajo The To'ver of 20 T.-laridc', iiy V- 20 O'-uu: L'/zrur :ton.2.) ThoGih"--dC^l ■ .iiaQ.20 Pilce (ouutv FO'ir^, >-,; n. jV(ott..20 Cricket on th^ Hr^ar ■ li 10 Henry E'^n^' !v'>, >>^' •:"ha.ckeray..20 Strange A '■ ' .:>f a phae- ton, by SO Denis !>• , ^a-rny jO Ol'i Curio8iry r.n >p uirken.'^,PtI.15 Oi(? Curloaity Shop, Part 11... .15 I vanhoe, by Scott, Ptii 1 1 . . . 15 Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part 11 15 White Wings, by Wm. Black.. 20 The Sketch Book, by Irving 20 C;Uhcrine, by W. M. Thackeray. 10 Janefs Repentance, by Eliot. . ..10 Baruaby Rudtje, Dickeni?, Ptl..l5 Biunahy Rudi^e, Part II : .15 F.;lix Holt, by George Eliot. . . .20 Richelieu, by Lord Lytton 10 Sunrise, by Wm. hlack, .Parti. .15 Sunrise, byWra. Black. Part 11.15 Tour of the World in 80 Days. .20 Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau. , . .20 Lovel, the Widower, by W. M. Thackeray 10 B>">mantic Adventures of a Milk- maid, by i'homas Haiv^y 10 David Copperfinld, Dickena,PtI.20 David Copperfield, Part IT 20 Rienzi, bv Lord Lytton, Part I. . 15 Rieczi, by Lord Lytton, Part 11. 15 Promi?* of Marriai^e, Gaboriau.. 10 Iraith and U/'ftiith, by The Dnch«8»....,.,. .80 163. The Happy Man, by Lover... 10 in4 Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray.... 20 165. Evre'8 Acquittal 10 166. Tvventy Thouf-aad Leagues Un- der ..h6 Soa, by Jnlea Verne 20 1C7. Anti-Slavery DayB, by Jamea Freeman Clarke 29 158. Beauty 3 Daughtera, by The Dtichras 20 169. Beyond the Sunrise.. ,' 20 i:0. Hard Times, byCiiarle8DIcken8.20 17t. Tom Crine-le s Lr.Si=^ ^">- "^ v„C "^^ <^< m' < <:t 7r- mm^.'^^'f OF CONGRESS 016 IlL 651 5 !• p ^■tX'l 1^ '■y'i j » , i- , i' ; '^l l i 1 w fi