co 4 ——— we t € ek eS & : a é i § 8S £5 96 SS $6 t¢ ze 1505 $b By {Ob 9b fy zy iy OF SE OE UE 9 Se He ce ze te or USCUGG itecpSceceCEEEC cote ARs AA , - = = \ Ww AI fs DARA BSFE 96 $8 9 pr ye ae = fos tot ha BY BF 7% By cp-py PT 1b Obi6e praye or, SE] re €€ Ze ie Toh ES "714 = mw yes ll sie wr ee Midas BVI oe ES a | i jimi 37" Pe Ligh} Sede eet EF UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA THE LIBRARY OF THE AT CHAPEL HILL ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES PS206L, eAl 182hb § This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBRARY on the last date stamped under “Date Due.” If not on hold it may be renewed by bringing it to the library. DATE DUE oe SALMAGUNDI: OR, Che Gbhim-cAhams and Opintons LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. : mo of NORTH CAND OTHERS. i “ oh # 44s at { sk ETCH BOOK, BRACEBRIDGE HALL, TALES OF A Ce Cigar TRAVELLER, &e. h e In hoc est. hoax, cum quiz et jokesez, ie Be Et smokem, toastem, roastem folksez, wc 6e, faw, fum. Psalmanazar. With baked, and broil’d, and stew’d, and toasted, And fried, and boil’d, and smoked, and roasted, We treat the town. NEW EDITION, CORRECTED AND REVISED BY THE AUTHOR. LONDON: PRINTED BY T. DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS 3 FOR THOMAS TEGG, 73, CHEAPSIDE ; RODWELL AND MARTIN, BOND-STREET : ALSO R. GRIFFIN AND CO. GLASGOW. 1824. ee ea ea, pe ae, Pi) ‘ of wi > hs ic ao tee ee, ¢ , pe tie PUBLISHER’S NOTICE. Tue volume now laid before the Public contains the earliest writings of an American gentleman, Mr. Wasu- ineton Irvine, who has lately attracted attention under the assumed name of Geoffrey Crayon, author of “The Sketch Book,” ‘ Bracebridge-Hall,’’ <‘ Knickerbocker’s History of New-York,” and “Tales of a Traveller.” The first of these works, Tue Sxercu Book, exhibits views of men and manners, generally humorous, occa- sionally pathetic, and sometimes shaded with a dash of misty antiquity; portraying some of the most striking scenes of picturesque life that have fallen under the author’s eye, in America and in Europe. The second, BracesripGE-Hau., may be considered a continuation of the former. It consists of similar sketches, interwoven with the history of an old-fashioned family of ancient gentry in Yorkshire, who play a considerable part in the other work. The essays, individually, are not so elaborately finished as those in ‘*The Sketch Book ;” which was originally published at New-York, in numbers, each composed of only three or four articles, disconnected with one another, and requiring, therefore, that each should be complete in itself. In Bracesripege-Hatt, the author appears to have had more regard to a general plan, and to the producing effect as a whole. The characters are 1V PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. gradually brought out by simple touches, and are often introduced merely to give a dramatic interest to the author’s speculations. The papers, therefore, have a more harmonious combination, a more interesting relation to each other, and a greater unity of object. The third, KnrcxErBocxer’s New-York, is a whimsical and satirical work, in which the peculiarities and follies of the present day are humorously depicted in the persons, and arrayed (somewhat after the ludicrous style of Flemish paintings) in the grotesque costume of the ancient Dutch colonists, who originally settled and founded the present city of New-York. The scene is local, and the application more especially directed to that particular city, and to recent occurrences in the history of the United States, together with the measures pursued by its government: the satire, however, is aimed at human character and conduct, and may therefore be generally felt. The Taves or a Travevier are light and agreeable, and will be read with pleasure: many sparks of talent are scattered over the pages, and the diction is in general felicitous. | The papers contained in the following pages, under the title of Satmacunp1, were the joint production of Mr. Wasuineton Irvine, and Mr. James K. Pauupine, with the exception of the poetry, and some sketches and hints for a few of the essays, which were furnished by a third hand. The authors were all natives of New-York. The work appeared in numbers, which were written for mere amusement, and with little heed, by very young men, who did not expect that they would have more than a transient and local currency. An original work, however, and one treating of national scenes and manners, was, at that time, so great a rarity in America as to attract general attention. It was received with great welcome, underwent numerous PUBLISHER’S NOTICE. Vv republications, and has continued in popular circulation ever since.~ The present edition is printed from one which has been submitted to the revision of one of the authors, who, at first, contemplated making essential alterations. On further consideration, however, he contented himself with cor- recting merely a few of what he termed the most glaring errors and flippancies, and judged it best to leave the ‘evident juvenility of the work to plead its own apology. The first number was originally introduced with the following whimsical notice, which has been dropped in subsequent American editions. The commencing para- graph is probably by the authors ; the latter one is evidently by the publisher, Davin Loneworrdu, an eccentric book- seller, who had filled a large apartment with the valuable engravings of ‘ Boydell’s Shakspeare Gallery,” magnifi- cently framed, and had nearly obscured the front of his house with a huge sign,—a colossal painting, in chzaro scuro, of the crowning of Shakspeare.e Loneworrn had an extraordinary propensity to publish elegant works, to the great gratification of persons of taste, and the no small diminution of his own slender fortune. He alludes ironically to this circumstance in the present notice. “ PUBLISHER’S NOTICE. “ SHAKSPEARE GALLERY, NEW-YORK. «This work will be published and sold by D. Lone- wortu. It will be printed on hot-pressed vellum paper, as that is held in highest estimation for buckling up young ladies’ hair—a purpose to which similar works are usually appropriated ; it will be a small neat duodecimo size, so that, when enough numbers are written, it may form a volume, sufficiently portable to be carried in old ladies’ pockets and young ladies’ work-bags. vies PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. “‘ As the above work will not come out at stated periods, notice will be given when another number will be published. The price will depend on the size of the number, and must be paid on delivery. The publisher professes the same sublime contempt for money as his authors. The liberal patronage bestowed by his discerning fellow-citizens, on various works of taste which he has published, has left him no znclination to ask for further favours at their hands; and he publishes this work in the mere hope of requiting their bounty.” CONTENTS. No. 1.—Editor’s Advertisement, 1.—Introduction to the work, 4.— Theatrics, by Will Wizard, 11.—New-York Assembly, by A. Ever- green, 14. No. 2.—Launcelot Langstaff’s Account of his Friends, 20.—Mr. Wilson’s Concert, by A. Evergreen, 26.—Some Account of Pindar Cockloft, 29.—Poetical Address from Pindar Cockloft, 33.—Advertise- ment, 35. No. 3.—Account of Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan, 38.—Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 41.—Fashions, by A. Evergreen, 46.—Fashionable Morning-Dress for Walking, 47.-— The Progress of Salmagundi, 49.—Poetical Proclamation, from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 52. No. 4.—Some Account of Jeremy Cockloft the younger, 56.—Me- morandums for a Tour to be entitled “‘ ‘The Stranger in New-Jersey, or Cockney Travelling,” by Jeremy Cockloft the younger, 59. No. 5.—Introduction to a Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan, 66.—Letter from Mustapha to Abdallah Eb’n al Rahab, 66.— Account of Will Wizard’s Expedition to a modern Ball, by A. Ever- green, 77.—Poetical Epistle to the Ladies, from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 83. No. 6.—Account of the Family of the Cocklofts, 87.—Theatrics, by William Wizard, Esq. 99. No. 7.—Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 108.—Poetical Account of ancient Times, from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 118.—Notes on the above, by William Wizard, Esq. 121. No. 8.—Anthony Evergreen’s Account of his Friend Langstaff, 124.— On Style, by William Wizard, Esq. 132.—The Editors and the Public, 140. No. 9.—-Account of Miss Charity Cockloft, 144.—-From the Elbow- Chair of the Author, 151.—Letter from Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 153.—Poetry, from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 161. No. 10.—Introduction to the Number, 167.—Letter from Demi Semi- quaver to Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. 169.—Note by the Publisher, 175. Vill CONTENTS. No. 1].—Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 178.—Account of ‘* Mine Uncle John,” 189. No. 12,—Christopher Cockloft’s Company, 198.—The Stranger at Home, or a Tour in Broadway, by Jeremy Cockloft the younger, 208.— Introduction to Pindar Cockloft’s Poem, 217.—A Poem, from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 218. No. 13.—Introduction to Will Wizard’s Plans for defending our Harbour, 222.—‘* Plans for defending our Harbour,’? by William Wizard, Esq. 226.—A Retrospect, or “What You Will,’’ 255.—To Readers and Correspondents, 246. No. 14.—Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 248.—Cockloft Hall, by L. Langstaff, Esq. 259.—-’Theatrical Intelligence, by William Wizard, Esq. 269. No. 15.—Sketches from Nature, by A. Evergreen, Gent. 274.—On Greatness, by L. Langstaff, Esq. 282. No. 16.—Style at Ballston, by W. Wizard, Esq. 292.—From Mus- tapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 299. No. 17.—Autumnal Reflections, by Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. 310.— Description of the Library at Cockloft Hall, by L. Langstaff, Esq. 315.— Chap. CIX. of the Chronicles of the renowned and ancient City of _ Gotham, 321. No. 18.—The Little Man in Black, by Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. 329.—Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem, 338, No. 19.—Introduction to the Number, 346.—Letter from Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Muley Helim al Raggi, 347.—Anthony Evergreen’s Introduction to the ‘‘ Winter Campaign,” 358.—Tea, a Poem, from the ' Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 365. No. 20.—On the New Year, 369.—To the Ladies, from A. Evergreen, Gent. 378.—Farewell Address, 385. SALMAGUNDI; WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. AND OTHERS. In hoc est hoax, cum quiz et jokesez, Et smokem, toastem, roastem folksez, _ Fee, faw, fum. Psalmanazar. With baked, and broil’d, and stew’d, and toasted, And fried, and boil’d, and smoked, and roasted, We treat the town. NO. IL—SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 18017. As every body knows, or ought to know, what a SALMAGUNDI is, we shall spare ourselves the trouble of an explanation; besides, 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 our heads to give an account of ourselves, for two reasons ; first, because it is nobody’s business ; secondly, because if it were, we do not hold ourselves bound to attend to any body’s business but our own ; B ase s WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 reason, we candidly avow, would not hold good with ourselves. There are, however, two or three pieces of informa- tion which we bestow gratis on the public, chiefly be- cause it suits our own 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 intend 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 their likenesses, they may ease their spleen by laughing at those of their neighbours—this being what we understand by poetical justice. Like all true and able editors, we consider ourselves infallible ; and therefore, with the customary diffidence of our brethren of the quill, we shall take the liberty of interfering in all matters either of a public or private nature. We are critics, amateurs, dilettanti, and cog- noscenti; and as we know “ by the pricking of our thumbs,” that every opmion which we may advance in either of those characters will be correct, we are de- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 3 termined, though it may be questioned, contradicted, or even controverted, yet it shall never be revoked. 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 public, there- fore, to purchase our numbers merely for their own sakes. - '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 ori- ginal speculations on all manner of subjects, together with the “ rummaging of my grandfather’s maho- gany 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, Linkum Fidelius. * The title of a newspaper published in New-York, the columns of which, among other miscellaneous topics, occasion- ally contained strictures on the performances at the theatre.— Edit. ioe) >. Cc A WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS FROM THE ELBOW CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. WE were a considerable time in deciding whether we should’ be at the pains of introducing ourselves to the public. As we care for nobody, and as we are not yet at the bar, we do not feel bound to hold up our hands and answer to our names. Willing, however, to gain at once that frank, con- fidential 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 exertion of charitable condescension to furnish them with a slight 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 philosophers, from Solomon downwards, we hold it in supreme contempt. We beg the public particularly to understand, that we solicit no patronage. We are determined, on the contrary, that the patronage shall be entirely on our side. 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 purchased, we give fair warning—we shall burn all our essays, critiques, and epigrams, in one promiscuous OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ 5 blaze; and, like the books of the sibyls, and the Alex- andrian 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: if they do not, let them settle the affair with their consciences and posterity. 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 Ame- rican 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 variable nature of public opinion, to build our hopes upon it: we care not what the public 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 our- selves; 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 public;—but we frankly acknow- ledge, that so soon as we get tired of reading our own works, we shall discontinue them without the least re- morse, whatever the public may think of it. While we continue to go on, we will go on merrily: if we moralise, it will 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 6 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS of opinion, that wisdom, true wisdom, is a plump, jolly dame, who sits in her arm-chair, laughs night merrily at the farce of life, and takes the world as it goes. | We intend particularly to notice the conduct of the fashionable world ;—nor in this shall we be governed by that carping spirit with which narrow-minded. book- worm cynics ‘squint at the little extravagances of the ton; but with that liberal toleration which actuates every man of fashion. "While we keep more than a Cerberus watch over the golden rules of female deli- cacy and decorum—we shall not discourage any little sprightliness of demeanour, or innocent vivacity of character. Before we advance one line’ further, we must let it be understood, as our firm opinion, void of all prejudice or partiality, that the ladies of New-York are the fairest, the finest, the most accomplished, 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 perfect. They will, therefore, receive a large portion of those attentions directed to the fashion- able world ;. nor will the gentlemen, who doze away their time in the circles of the haut-ton, escape our currying :—we mean those sapient 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 direc- tion and control of ANTHONY EVERGREEN, Gent. to whom all communications on this subject are to be OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 7 addressed. 'This gentleman, from his long experience im the routine of balls, routs, and assemblies, is emi- nently 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 court- ships of the fathers, mothers, uncles, and aunts, and even grand-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 pe- digrees 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 per- fectly the time when young ladies used to go a sleigh- riding, at night, without their mammas or grand- mammas; in short, without being matronized at all ; and can relate a thousand pleasant stories about Kiss- ing-bridge *. He likewise remembers the time when ladies paid tea-visits at three in the afternoon, and re- turned before dark to see that the house was shut up and the servantsonduty. He has often played cricket in the orchard in the rear of old Vauxhall, and re- members when the Bull’s-head was quite out of town. Though he has slowly and gradually given in to modern fashions, and still flourishes in the beau-monde, * Amongst the amusements of the citizens, in times gone by, was that of making excursions in the winter evenings, on sleighs, to some neighbouring village, where the social party had a ball and supper. Kissing-bridge was so denominated from the cir- cumstance that here the beaux exacted from their fair compa- -nions the forfeiture of a kiss before permitting their travelling vehicles to pass over.—Ldit. 8 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS yet he seems a little prejudiced in favour of the dress and manners of the old school; and his chief com- mendation of a new mode is, “ that itis 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 unadorned crop to a pig-tail and powder. Custom and fashion have, however, had more effect on him than all our lectures; and he tempers, so happily, the grave and ceremonious gallantry of the old school with the “ hail fellow” familiarity of the new, that, we trust, on a little acquaintanse, 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 company. In the territory of criticism, Witttam Wzizarp, 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 discretionary powers in this respect. Though Will has not had the advantage of an educa- tion 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 residence abroad, particularly at Canton, Calcutta, and the gay and polished court of Hayti. He has also had an opportunity of seeing the best singing-girls and tragedians of China; is a great con- noisseur in mandarine dresses, and porcelain, and par- ticularly values himself on his intimate knowledge of the buffalo and war dances of the Northern Indians. He is likewise promised the assistance of a gentleman, lately from London, who was born and bred in that OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 9 centre of science and bon godt, the vicinity of Fleet- market, where he has been edified, man and boy, these six-and-twenty years, with the harmonious jingle of Bow-bells. 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 em- phasises ‘* and” instead of “ but,”’—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 daugh- ter being exactly six feet—they shall all hear of it in good time. We have, however, advised Will 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, we shall not dose them with copious draughts of theatrical cri- ticism: we know that they have already been well physicked with them of late. Our theatrics will take up but a small part of our paper; nor will they be al- together 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 10 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS their attempt to show off new readings, make the sweet swan of Avon cackle like 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 frequently 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 pommelling: we will be re- lentless in our vengeance, and will fight “ till from our bones the flesh be hack’d.” What other subjects we shall include in shea range of our observations, we have not determined, or rather we shall not trouble ourselves to detail. ‘The public have already more information concerning us than we intended toimpart. 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 initiated into the arcana of the bon ton, and cured of all 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 bushel, and as they do not flow periodically nor con- stantly, we shall not restrict our paper as to size or the time of its appearance. It will be published whenever we have sufficient matter to constitute a number; and the size of the number shall depend on the stock in hand, This will best suit our negligent habits, and leave us that full liberty and independence which is the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 1] joy and pride of our souls. As we have before-hinted, that we do not concern ourselves about the pecuniary matters of our paper, we leave its price to be regulated by our publisher ; only recommending 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 SatmacunDI, and grow wise apace, Thus much we will say—there are three of us, ‘‘ Bar- dolph, 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 phizzes, 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 little as we care for the opinion of this exceedingly stupid world, we shall take care, as far as lies 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. “THEA TRICS, Containing the quintessence of Modern Criticism. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. MacBETH was performed to a very crowded house, and much to owr satisfaction. As, however, our neigh- bour Town has been very voluminous already in his 12 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 per- formed it well or not. We think, however, there was an error in his costwme, as the learned Link. Fid. is of opinion that, in the time of Macbeth, the Scots did not wear sandals, but wooden shoes. Macbeth also was noted for wearing his jacket open, that he might play the Scotch fiddle more conveniently ;—that being an hereditary accomplishment in the Glamis family. We have seen this character performed in China by the celebrated 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 compliance with the opinion of the sage Linkum, 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 carefully reported in the next num- ber of a paper called the Flim Flam; (English— Town.) We were much pleased with Mrs. Villiers in Lady Macbeth ; 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 Town, she had stuck it in her night-cap.—This would have been extremely picturesque, and would have marked more strongly the derangement of her mind. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 13 Mrs. Villiers, 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 Glum- dalca, queen of the giants, in Tom Thumb: she is ex- actly of imperial dimensions; and, provided she is well shaved, of a most interesting physiognomy : as she ap- pears also to be a lady of some nerve, I dare engage she will read a letter about witches vanishing in air, and such common occurrences, without being unnaturally ‘surprised, to the annoyance of honest ‘* Town.” We are happy to observe that Mr. Cooper profits by the instructions of friend Town, and does not dip the dagger in blood so deep as formerly by the 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 should be thrown on the word sight—because Macbeth having been, a short time before, most confoundedly humbugged with an aérial 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 re- spect from our neighbour 'Town, yet we heartily agree with him in censuring Mr. Cooper for omitting that passage so remarkable for “ beauty of imagery,” &c., beginning with ‘and pity, like a naked new-born babe,” &c. It is one of those passages of Shakspeare 14 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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. ox As itis the first duty of a friend to advise, and as we profess 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 in judgment against him—and when if, is once. afloat there is no knowing where some unlucky hand may place it. We would not, for all the money in our pockets, see Town flourishing his critical quill under the auspices ofan ass’s head, like the great Franklin in his Montero Cap. NEW-YORK ASSEMBLY. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Te assemblies this year have gained a great acces- sion 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 an- other planet, which rivals even Venus in lustre, and I claim equal honour with Herschell for my discovery. I shall take some future opportunity to describe this planet, and the numerous satellites which revolve around it- At the last assembly the company began to make some show about eight, but the most fashionable de- layed their appearance until about nine—nine being OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 15 the number of the muses; and therefore the best possi- ble 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 ex- perience, would have been puzzled to point out the humours of a lady by her prevailing colours ; for the “‘ rival queens” of fashion, Mrs. Toole and Madame Bouchard*, appeared to have exhausted their wonder- ful ventions in the different disposition, variation, 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 muslin. 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 slippers +. Let the grumbling smellfungi of this world, who cultivate taste among books, cobwebs, and spiders, rail at the extravagance 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, spar- kling and glowing and dazzling, I, like the honest * Two fashionable milliners of rival celebrity in the city of New- York.— Edit. + In this instance, as well as on several other occasions, a little innocent pleasantry is indulged at Mr. Jefferson’s expense. The allusion made here is to the red velvet small-clothes with which the President, in defiance of good taste, used to attire himself on levee-days and other public occasions. — Edit. 16 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Chinese, thanked them heartily for the jewels and finery with which they loaded themselves, merely for the entertainment of bystanders, and blessed my stars that I was a bachelor. The gentlemen were considerably numerous, and being as usual equipped in their appropriate black uni- forms, constituted a sable regiment, which contributed not a little to the brilliant gaiety of the ball-room. I must confess I am indebted for this remark to our friend, the cockney, Mr. ’SpipLikENSFLasH, or *Sbid- likens, as he is called for shortness. He is a fellow of infinite verbosity—stands in high favour—with him- self—and, like Caleb Quotem, is “ up to every thing.” I remember when a comfortable plump-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 pains-taking 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 re- fused 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 quitted their swaddling clothes. The immortal Duport has usurped despotic sway over all the female heads and 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, finds him a more potent enemy OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 17 than the whole collective force of the ‘ North-river Society*.”” *Sbidlikens 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 accomplishments 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 cotillion, yet he never cut a pigeon-wing in his life. In my mind there’s no position more positive and unexceptionable than that most Frenchmen, dead or alive, 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 public 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 energy and eloquence of sundry limbs, which seemed to be flourishing about without appertaining to any body. After much investigation and difficulty, I, at length, traced them to their re- spective owners, whom I found to be all Frenchmen to aman. Art may have meddled somewhat in these affairs, but nature certainly did more. I have since * The North-river Society. An imaginary association, the object of which was to set the North-river (the Hudson) on fire. A number of young men of some fashion, little talent, and great pretension, were ridiculed as members.—LEdi¢. C 18 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS been considerably employed in calculations on this sub- ject; and by the most accurate computation 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 Euclid nor Pythagoras himself could demonstrate, unfortunately wound him- self—I mean his foot—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, un- ravelled his step, without omitting one angle or curve, and extricated himself without breaking a thread of the lady’s dress! he then sprung up, like a’sturgeon, crossed his feet four times, and finished 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 born,” who was not a Frenchman, or a mountebank, could have done the like. Among the new faces, [remarked a blooming nymph, who has brought a fresh supply of roses from the country to adorn the wreath of beauty, where lilies too much predominate. As I wish well to every sweet face under heaven, I sincerely hope her roses may sur- vive the frosts and dissipations of winter, and lose no- thing by a comparison with the loveliest offerings of the spring. ’Sbidlikens, to whom I made similar re- » marks, assured me that they were very just, and very prettily expressed ; 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 distinction between a fine woman and a fine horse. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 19 I would praise the sylph-like grace with which an- other young 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 splendour and profusion. My friend, ’Sbidli- kens, 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 limbs 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 inter- ference of either managers or peace-officers. 20 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. II.—WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1807. FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. In the conduct of an epic poem, it has been the cus- tom, from time immemorial, for the poet occasionally to introduce his reader to an intimate acquaintance with the heroes of his story, by conducting him into their tents, and giving him an opportunity of observing them in their night-gown and slippers. However, I despise the servile genius that would descend to follow a pre- cedent, 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 moment 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 Will 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 isdevoted. After some little time the conversation turned on the effect produced by our first number ; every one had his budget of informa- tion, and I assure my readers that we laughed most unceremoniously at their expense: they will excuse us OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 21 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 cha- racters were tickled with different passages. 'The old folks were delighted to find there was a bias in our junto towards the “ good old times;” and he particu- larly noticed a worthy old gentleman of his acquaint- ance, 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 great pleasure and self-complacency :— he hoped, he said, that the Bridge might be preserved for the benefit of posterity, and as a monument of the gallantry of their grandfathers; and even hinted at the expediency of erecting a toll-gate there, to collect the forfeits of the ladies. But the most flattering tes- timony 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 detected by friend Anthony in the very fact of laughing most obstreperously at the description of the little dancing Frenchman. Now it glads my very heart to find our effusions have such a pleasing effect. I venerate the aged, and joy whenever it is m 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 differ- ence of opinion respecting the new planet, and the blooming nymph from the country; but as to the compliment paid to the fascinating little sylph who danced so gracefully-—every lady modestly took that to herself. gd WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Evergreen mentioned also that the young ladies were extremely anxious to learn the true mode of managing their beaux; and Miss Diana Wearwell, 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 information.” 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 mistaken for a gentleman, ‘ who is no more like me,” said Will, “ than I like Hercules.”—* I was well assured,” continued Will, ‘ that as our characters were drawn from nature, the originals would be found in every society. And so it has happened—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 recognised his own likeness, has foolishly 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 representative ;—not that I care much about the matter, for it must be acknowledged that the ani- mal is a good-natured animal enough ;—and what is more, a fashionable animal—and this is saying more than to call him aconjurer.. But, Jam much mistaken if he can claim any affinity to the Wizard family. Surely every body knows Ding-dong, the gentle Ding- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Q3 dong, who pervades all space, who is here and there and every where ; no tea-party can be complete without Ding-dong—and his appearance is sure to occasion a smile. Ding-dong has been the occasion of much wit in his day; I have even seen many puny whipsters at- tempt to be dull at his expense, who were as much in- ferior to him as the gad-fly is to the ox that he buzzes about. Does any witling want to distress the company with a miserable pun ?—nobody’s name presents sooner than Ding-dong’s; and it has been played upon with equal skill and equal entertainment 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 ac- quired a prodigious fund of knowledge by reading Dil- worth when a boy; and the other day, on being asked who was the author of Macbeth, answered, without the least hesitation—Shakespeare! Ding-dong has a quota- tion for every day of the year, and every hour of the day, and every minute of the hour; but he often com- mits petty larcenies on the poets—plucks the gray hairs of old Chaucer’s head, and claps them on the chin 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 more—rivals all the little beaux in 2A, WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS / town, in his attentions to the ladies—is in a state of rapid improvement; and there is no doubt but that, by the time he arrives at years of discretion, he will be a very accomplished, 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 torepresent Mr. Ding-dong, the sin is at his own door ;—we wash our hands of it. We all sympathised with Wizard, that he should be mistaken 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 conjectures on the subject. Willis, in fact, a wiseacre by inheritance. The Wizard family has long been celebrated for knowing more than their neighbours, particularly concerning their neigh- bours’ affairs. They were anciently called Josselin ; but Will’s great uncle, by the father’s side, having been accidentally burnt for a witch in Connecticut, in consequence of blowing up his own house in a philo- sophical experiment, the family, in order to perpetuate the recollection of this memorable circumstance, .as- sumed the name and arms of Wizard, and have borne them ever since. In the course of my customary morning’s walk, I stepped in at a book-store, which is noted for being the favourite haunt of a number of literati, some of whom rank high in the opinion of the world, and others rank equally high in their own. Here I found a knot of queer fellows, listening to one of their company, who was reading our paper: I. particularly noticed Mr. Ichabod Fungus among the number. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 25 Fungus is one of those fidgeting, meddling quid- nuncs, with which this unhappy city is pestered ; one of your “ Qin the corner fellows,” who speaks volumes with a wink—conveys most portentous information by laying his finger beside his nose—and is always smell- ing a rat in the most triflmg occurrence. 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 con- cealment. Dick Paddle, who was one of the group, 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 assured old Fungus, 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 authors, whom he knew very well, were only expressing their high respect for them. ‘The old man shook his head, strugged his . shoulders, gave a mysterious Lord Burleigh nod, said he hoped it might be so; but he was by no means satisfied with this attack upon the President’s breeches, as ** thereby hangs a tale.” 26 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS MR. WILSON’S CONCERT. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. In my register of indisputable facts, [ have noted it conspicuously, that all modern music is but the mere dregs and draining of the ancient, and that all the spirit and vigour of harmony have entirely evaporated in the lapse of ages. Oh! for the chant of the Naiads, and Dryads, the shell of the Tritons, and the sweet warblings 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 Broad- way ;—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 instrument 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 mis- fortune of being present. It was attended by a nu- merous company, and great satisfaction, if I may be allowed to judge from the frequent gapings of the audience; though I will not risk my credit as a connoisseur, by saying whether they proceeded from wonder or a violent inclination to doze. I was de- lighted to find, in the mazes of the crowd, my par- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. mat A ticular friend ’Sbidlikens, who had put on his cogno- scenti 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-pudding rotundity of a semi- bref; and, in short, boasts of having incontinently 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 “ Rule Britannia,” clapped his wings, and then—came down again. Like all true trans-atlantic judges, he suffers most horribly at our musical enter- tainments, 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, beautifully marbled with smoke, to show off the dresses and complexions 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 “Sbidlikens says, “ no better than repetitions of old stories.” Mr. Wilson gave me infinite satisfaction by tHe gen- tility 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 little confusion, for he absolutely forgot himself, and in the whole course of * An emblematical device, suspended from a poplar in front of the shop of Paff, a music-seller in Broadway.—Edit. 98 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 advice 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 certain amateurs should be so frequently at con- certs, considering what agonies they suffer while a piece of music isplaying. Idefy any man of common humanity, and who has not the heart of a Choctaw, to contemplate the countenance of one of these unhappy victims of a fiddle-stick, without feeling a sentiment of compassion. His whole visage is distorted; he rolls up his eyes, as M‘Sycophant says, * like a duck in thunder,” and the music seems to operate upon him like a fit of the colic: his very bowels seem to sym- pathise 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 hor- rible grimace, and scowls fiercely upon his music-book, as though he would grin every crotchet and quaver out of countenance. I have sometimes particularly noticed a hungry-looking Gaul, who torments a huge bass viol, and who is doubtless the original of the famous ‘** Raw-head-and-bloody-bones” so potent in frightening naughty children. The person who played the French horn was very excellent in his way; but ’Sbidlikens could not relish OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 29 his performance, having some time since heard a gentle- man amateur in Gotham play a solo on his proboscis, in a style infinitely superior: Snout, the bellows-mender, never tuned his wind instrument more musically; nor did the celebrated “ knight of the burning lamp” ever yield more exquisite entertainment with his nose. This gentleman had latterly ceased to exhibit this prodigious accomplishment, having, it was whispered, hired out his musical feature 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. SittrNne late the other evening in my elbow-chair, indulging in that kind of indolent meditation which I consider the perfection of human bliss, I was roused from my reverie by the entrance of an old servant in the Cockloft livery, who handed me a letter, containing the following address from my cousin and old college chum, Prnpar CocKLorT. _ Honest Andrew, as he delivered it, informed’ me that his master, who resides a little way from town, on reading a small pamphlet in aneat yellow cover *, rubbed his hands with symptoms of great satisfaction, called for his favourite Chinese ink-stand, with two sprawling mandarins for its supporters, and wrote the letter which he had the honour to present me. As I foresee my cousin will one day become a great -favourite with the public, and as I know him to be somewhat punctilious as it respects etiquette, I shall * The numbers of the Salmagundi were originally published in this form. 30 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 humorists, as will be perceived when I come to treat more of its history.—My cousin Pindar is one of its most conspicuous 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 employed 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 in the 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 evening of his thirtieth birth-day, as he sat by the fireside, as much in love as ever was man in this 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 Cockloft characteristics to strike to whim; and had Pindar stood out on this occasion he would have brought the reputation of his mother in question. From that time he gave up all particular attention to the ladies; and though he still ‘loves their company, he has never been known to ex- ceed the bounds of common courtesy in his intercourse OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 31 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 unfortunate dancing- masters from their country to polish and enlighten 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 a ragout: he groaned at Ca Ira, and the Marseilles Hymn had much the same effect upon him that sharpening a knife upon a dry whetstone has upon some people—it set his teeth chattering. He might in time have been reconciled to these rubs, had not the intro- duction of French cockades on the hats of our citizens absolutely thrown him into a fever. The first time he saw an 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 humorist without ill-nature;—he is of the true gun- powder temper—one flash and all is over. It is true, when the wind is 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 mo- ments of Pindar. I swear to you, dear ladies and gentlemen, I would not lose one of those splenetic bursts for the best wig in my wardrobe—even though it were proved to be the identical wig worn by the sage Linkum, when he demonstrated before the whole 32 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS university of Leyden, that it was possible to make bricks without straw. I have seen the old gentle- man blaze forth such a volcanic explosion of wit, ridi- cule, and satire, that I was almost tempted to believe him inspired. . But these sallies only lasted for a mo- ment, and passed like summer clouds over the be- nevolent 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 or generous action—his heart melts at the story of distress,—and he is still a warm admirer of the fair. Like-all old bache- lors, 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 acknowledge 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 humorist, and a humorist of the highest order. He has some of the most intolerable whim-whams [ ever met with in my life, and his oddities are sufficient 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 per- plex the whole town, and completely establish his claim to the laureateship he has solicited, and with which we hereby invest him, recommending him and his effusions to public reverence and respect. LaunceLot LANGSTAFF. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. oO: TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. td Dear Launce, As I find you have taken the quill, To put our gay town and its fair under drill, 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 wofully fash’d; Has long been be-frenchman’d, be-cockney'd, be-trash‘d ; And our ladies be-devill’d, bewilder’d astray, From the rules of their grand-dames 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 has traced, When our ladies in stays, and in bodice well laced, When bishop’d, and cushion’d, and hoop’d to the chin, Well calash’d without, and well bolster’d within ; Ail 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 3 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. D 34 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS I recall with delight, how my bosom would creep, When some delicate 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! 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 would lie. And the heart, like the poets, in thought would pursue The elysium of bliss, which was veil’d from its view. Weare old-fashion’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 show 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 fopling 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 sublime May need, now and then, a few touches of rhyme, I humbly solicit, 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 triplets I fill; And a pogm I grind, as from rags white and blue The paper-mill 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, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 5 I can grind it by wholesale—and give it true point, With Billingsgate dish’d up in rhymes out of joint. [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)— Jambics and Sapphics I grind at my will, 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 refined ; Dan Spenser, Dan Chaucer, those poets of old, Though cover’d with dust, are yet true sterling 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 powers! I’ll figure and cut you a dash— As bold as Will Wizard, or ’Sbidlikens flash ! Pinpar CocKLort. et ADVERTISEMENT. Peruars 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 imagination, is, that he cannot flourish his pen, but every Jack-pudding imagines it is pointed directly at himself ;—he cannot, in his gambols, throw a fool’s cap among the crowd, but every queer fellow insists upon putting it on his own head; or chalk an D2 36 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 sufficient consequence to engage our attention, we should not care a rush about it, if they did not get into a passion, and complain 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 of our indisputa- ble facts, that no man can be made ridiculous but by his own folly. As, however, we are aware, that when a man by chance gets a thwack in the crowd he is apt to suppose the blow was intended exclusively for him- self, and so fall into unreasonable anger, we have de- termined to let these crusty gentry know what kind of satisfaction they are to expect from us. We are resolved not to fight, for three special reasons; first, because fighting is at all events extremely troublesome and inconvenient, particularly at this season of the year; second, because if either of us should happen to be killed, it would be a great loss to the public, and rob them of many a good laugh we have in store for their amusement; and third, because if we should chance to kill our adversary, as is most likely—for we can every one of us split balls upon razors and snuff candles—it would be a loss to our publisher, by de- priving him of a good customer. If any gentleman casuist will give three as good reasons for fighting, we promise him a complete set of Salmagundi for nothing, But though we do not fight in our own proper per- sons, let it not be supposed that we will not give ample satisfaction to all those who may choose to demand it OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 37 —for this would be a mistake of the first magnitude, and lead very valiant gentlemen, perhaps, into what is called a quandary. It would be a thousand and one pities that any honest man, after taking to himself the cap and bells which we merely offered to his acceptance, should not have the privilege of being cudgeled into the bargain. We pride ourselves upon giving satisfaction in every department of our paper; and to fill that of fighting, have engaged two of those strapping heroes of the theatre, who figure in the retinues of our ginger- bread kings and queens—now hurry an old stuff petti- coat on their backs, and strut senators of Rome or aldermen of London—and now be-whisker their muffin faces with burnt cork, and swagger right valiant war- riors, armed cap-a-pie, in buckram. Should there- fore any great little man about town take offence at our good-natured villany, though we intend to offend nobody under heaven, he will please to apply at any hour after twelve o’clock, as our champions will then be off duty at the theatre, and ready for any thing. They have promised to fight ‘ with or without balls” —to give two tweaks of the nose for one—to submit to be kicked, and to cudgel their applicant most heartily in return; this being what we understand by “ the satisfaction of a gentleman.” 38 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. IlI.—FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW CHAIR. As I delight in every thing novel and eccentric, and would at any time give an old coat for a new idea, I am particularly attentive to the manners and conversa- tion of strangers, and scarcely ever a traveller enters this city, whose appearance promises any thing original, but by some means or another I form an acquaintance with him. I must confess I often suffer manifold af- flictions from the intimacies thus contracted : my cu- riosity is frequently punished by the stupid details of a blockhead, or the shallow verbosity of a coxcomb. Now I would prefer at any time to travel with an ox- team through a Carolina sand-flat, rather than plod through a heavy unmeaning conversation with the former; and as to the latter, I would sooner hold sweet converse with the wheel of a knife-grinder than endure his monotonous chattering. In fact, the strangers who © flock to this most pleasant of all earthly cities are ge- nerally mere birds of passage, whose plumage is often gay enough, I own, but their notes, ‘‘ heaven save the mark,” are as unmusical as those of that classic night bird, which the ancients humorously selected as the emblem of wisdom. ‘Those from the south, it is true, entertain me with their horses, equipages, and puns: and it is excessively pleasant to hear a couple of these Jour in hand gentlemen detail their exploits over a bottle. Those from the east have often induced me to doubt the existence of the wise men of yore who are OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 39 said to have flourished in that quarter ; and as for those from parts beyond seas—oh ! my masters, ye shall hear more from me anon. Heaven help this unhappy town! —hath it not goslings enow of its own hatching and rearing, that it must be overwhelmed by such an inundation of ganders from other climes? I would not have any of my courteous and gentle readers suppose that I am running a muck, full tilt, cut and slash, upon all foreigners indiscriminately. I have no national an- tipathies, though related to the Cockloft family. As to honest John Bull, I shake him heartily by the hand, assuring him that I love his jolly countenance, and moreover am lineally descended from him ; in proof of which I allege my invincible predilection for roast beef and pudding. I therefore look upon all his children as my kinsmen; and I beg, when I tickle a cockney, I may not be understood as trimming an Englishman, they being very distinct animals, as I shall clearly de- monstrate in a future number. If any one wishes to know my opinion of the Irish and Scotch, he may find it in the characters of those nations, drawn by the first advocate of the age. But the French, I must confess, are my favourites, and I have taken more pains to argue my cousin Pindar out of his antipathy to them than I ever did about any other thing. When, there- fore, I choose to hunt a Monsieur for my own par- ticular amusement, I beg it may not be asserted that I intend him as a representative of his countrymen at large. Far from this—I love the nation, as being a nation of right merry fellows, possessing the true secret of being happy ; which is nothing more than thinking of nothing, talking about any thing, and laughing at every thing. I mean only to tune up those little AO WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS thing-o-mys, who represent nobody but themselves ; who have no national trait about them but their lan- guage, and who hop about our town in swarms like little toads after a shower. Among the few strangers whose acquaintance has entertained me, I particularly rank the magnanimous Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan, a most illustrious captain of a ketch, who figured, some time since, in our fashionable circles, at the head of a ragged regiment of 'Tripolitan prisoners *. His conversation was to me a perpetual feast ;—I chuckled with inward pleasure at his whimsical mistakes and unaffected observations on men and manners; and I rolled each odd conceit *¢ like a sweet morsel under my tongue.” Whether Mustapha was captivated by my iron- bound physiognomy, or flattered by the attentions which I paid him, I won’t determine; but I so far gained his confidence, that, at his departure, he pre- sented me with a bundle of papers, containing, among other articles, several copies of letters, which he had written to his friends at Tripoli. ‘The following is a translation of one of them. ‘The original is in Arabic- Greek; but by the assistance of Will Wizard, who understands all languages, not excepting that manu- factured by Psalmanazar, [ have been enabled to accomplish a tolerable translation. We should have found little difficulty in rendering it into English, had it not been for Mustapha’s confounded pot-hooks and hangers. } * Several Tripolitan prisoners taken by an American squadron, in an action off Tripoli, were brought to New-York ; where they lived at large, objects of the curiosity and hospitality of the inhabitants, until an opportunity presented to restore them to their own country.—Hdit. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Ad 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. Tuovu wilt learn from this letter, most illustrious disciple of Mahomet, that I have for some time resided in New-York ; the most polished, vast, and magnificent city of the United States of America.— But what to me are its delights! I wander a captive through its splendid streets; I turn a heavy eye on every rising day that beholds me banished from my country. The Christian husbands here lament most bitterly any short absence from home, though they leave but one wife behind to lament their departure ;—what then must be the feelings of thy unhappy kinsman, while thus lingering at an immeasurable distance from three-and- twenty of the most lovely and obedient wives in all Tripoli! Oh, Allah! shall thy servant never again return to his native land, nor behold his beloved wives, who beam on his memory beautiful as the rosy morn of the East, and graceful as Mahomet’s camel! Yet beautiful, oh, most puissant slave-driver, as are my wives, they are far exceeded by the women of this country. Even those who run about the streets with bare arms and necks. (e¢ cetera), whose habiliments 4re too scanty to protect them either from the in- clemency of the seasons, or the scrutinizing glances of the curious, and who it would seem belong to nobody, are lovely as the houris that people the elysium of true believers. If, then, such as run wild in the highways, and whom no one cares to appropriate, are thus 42 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS beauteous; what must be the charms of those who are shut up in the seraglios, and never permitted to go abroad! Surely the region of beauty, the valley of the graces, can contain nothing so inimitably fair ! But, notwithstanding the charms of these infidel women, they are apt to have one fault, which is ex- tremely troublesome and inconvenient. Wouldst thou believe it, Asem, I have been positively assured by a famous dervise (or doctor as he is here called), that at least one fifth part of them—have souls! Incredible as it may seem to thee, Iam the more inclined to be- lieve them in possession of this monstrous superfluity, from my own little experience, and from the informa- tion which I have derived from others. In walking the streets I have actually seen an exceeding good looking woman with soul enough to box her husband’s ears to his heart’s content, and my very whiskers trembled with indignation at the abject state of these wretched infidels. I am told, moreover, that some of the women have soul enough to usurp the breeches of the men, but these I suppose are married and kept close ; for I have not, in my rambles, met with any so extravagantly accoutred ; others, I am informed, have soul enough to swear!—yea! by the beard of the ereat Omar, who prayed three times to each of the one hundred and twenty-four thousand prophets of our most holy faith, and who never swore but once in his life—they actually swear! Get thee to the mosque, good Asem ! return thanks to our most holy prophet that he has been thus mind- ful of the comfort of alltrue Mussulmen, and has given them wives with no more souls than cats and dogs, and other necessary animals of the household. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. AS Thou wilt doubtless be anxious to learn our recep- tion in this country, and how we were treated by a people whom we have been accustomed to consider as unenlightened barbarians. | On landing we were waited upon to our lodgings, I suppose according to the directions of the municipality, by a vast and respectable escort of boys and negroes, who shouted and threw up their hats, doubtless to do honour to the magnanimous Mustapha, captain of a ketch ; they were somewhat ragged and dirty in their equipments, but this was attributed to their republican simplicity. One of them, in the zeal of admiration, threw an old shoe, which gave thy friend rather an un- gentle salutation on one side of the head, whereat I was not a little offended, until the interpreter informed us that this was the customary manner in which great men were honoured in this country ; and that the more distinguished they were, the more they were subjected to the attacks and peltings of the mob. Upon this I bowed my head three times, with my hands to my turban, and made a speech in Arabic-Greek, which gave great satisfaction, and occasioned a shower of old shoes, hats, and so forth, that was exceedingly refresh- ing to us all. | Thou wilt not as yet expect that I should give thee an account of the laws and politics of this country. I will reserve them for some future letter, when I shall be more experienced in their complicated and seem- ingly contradictory nature. This empire is governed by a grand and most puis- sant bashaw, whom they dignify with the title of Pre- sident. He is chosen by persons, who are chosen by an assembly, elected by the people—hence the mob is 4A WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS called the sovereign people—and the country, free; the body politic doubtless resembling a vessel, which is best governed by its tail, ‘The present bashaw is a very plain old gentleman—something they say of a humorist, as he amuses himself with impaling butter- flies and pickling tadpoles; he is rather declining in popularity, having given great offence by wearing red breeches, and tying his horse to a post *. The people of the United States have assured me that they them- selves are the most enlightened nation under the sun ; but thou knowest that the barbarians of the desert, who assemble at the summer solstice, to shoot their arrows at that glorious luminary, in order to extinguish his burning rays, make precisely the same boast . —which of them have the superior claim, I shall not attempt to decide. I have observed, with some degree of surprise, that the men of this country do not seem in haste to ac- commodate themselves even with the single wife which alone the laws permit them to marry: this backward- ness is probably owing to the misfortune of their ab- solutely having no female mutes among them. Thou knowest how invaluable are these silent companions; what a price is given for them in the East, and what * This is another allusion to the primitive habits of Mr. Jefferson, who, even while the First Magistrate of the Republic, and on occasions when a little of the ‘* pomp and circumstance” of office would not have been incompatible with that situation, was accustomed to dress in the plainest garb, and when on horseback to be without an attendant; so that it not unfrequently happened that he might be seen, when the business of the state required his personal presence, riding up alone to the government house at Washington, and, having tied his steed to the nearest post, proceed to transact the important business of the nation.— Edit. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 45 entertaining wives they make. What delightful en- tertainment arises from beholding the silent eloquence of their signs and gestures; but a wife possessed both of a tongue and a soul—monstrous! monstrous! Is it astonishing that these unhappy infidels should shrink from a union with a woman so preposterously endowed ? Thou hast doubtless read in the works of Abul Fara}, the Arabian historian, the tradition which men- tions that the muses were once upon the point of fall- ing together by the ears about the admission of a tenth among their number, until she assured them, by signs, that she was dumb; whereupon they received her with great rejoicing. I should, perhaps, inform thee that there are but nine Christian muses, who were formerly pagans, but have since been converted, and that in this country we never hear of a tenth, unless some crazy poet wishes to pay an hyperbolical compliment to his mistress ; on which occasion it goes hard but she figures as a tenth muse, or fourth grace, even though she should be more illiterate than a Hottentot, and more ungraceful than a dancing bear! Since my arrival in this country, 1 have met not less than a hundred of these supernumerary muses and graces—and may Allah preserve me from ever meeting any more ! When I have studied this people more profoundly, I will write thee again; in the mean time watch over my household, and do not beat my beloved wives, un- less you catch them with their noses out at the window. Though far distant, and a slave, let me live in thy heart as thou livest in mine:—think not, O! friend of my soul, that the splendours of this luxurious capital, its gorgeous palaces, its stupendous mosques, and the beautiful females who run wild in herds about its 4G WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS streets, can obliterate thee from my remembrance. Thy name shall still be mentioned in the five-and-twenty prayers which I offer up daily; and may our great prophet, after bestowing on thee all the blessings of this life, at length, in a good old age, lead thee gently by the hand, to enjoy the dignity of bashaw of three tails in the blissful bowers of Eden. | MUSTAPHA. FASHIONS. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. The following article is furnished me by a young lady of unquestionable taste, and who is the oracle of fashion and frippery. Being deeply initiated into all the mysteries of the toilet; she has promised me, from time to time, a similar detail. Mrs. Toots has for some time reigned unrivalled in the fashionable world, and had the supreme direc- tion of caps, bonnets, feathers, flowers, and tinsel.— She has dressed and undressed our ladies just as she pleased ; now loading them with velvet and wadding, now turning them adrift upon the world, to run shiver- ing through the streets with scarcely a covering to their—backs; and now obliging them to drag a long train at their heels, like the tail of a paper kite. Her despotic sway, however, threatens to be limited. A dangerous rival has sprung up in the person of Ma- dame Bouchard, an intrepid little woman, fresh from the head quarters of fashion and folly, and who has burst like a second Buonaparte upon the fashionable world.—Mrs. Toole, notwithstanding, seems deter- mined to dispute her ground bravely for the honour of Old England. The ladies have begun to arrange OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. AT themselves under the banner of one or other of these heroes of the needle, and every thing portends open war. Madame Bouchard marches gallantly to the field, flourishing a flaming red robe for a standard, “flouting the skies;” and Mrs. Toole, no ways dis- mayed, sallies out under cover of a forest of artificial flowers, like Malcolm’s host. Both parties possess great merit, and both deserve the victory. Mrs. 'Toole charges the highest, but Madame Bouchard makes the lowest courtesy. Madame Bouchard is a little short lady—nor is there any hope of her growing larger ; but then she is perfectly genteel—and so is Mrs. ‘Toole. Mrs. Toole lives in Broadway, and Madame Bouchard in Courtlandt-street; but Madame atones for the in- feriority of her stand, by making two courtesies to Mrs. Toole’s one, and talking French like an angel. Mrs. Toole is the best looking—but Madame Bou- chard wears a most bewitching little scrubby wig. Mrs. Toole is the tallest—but Madame Bouchard has the longest nose. Mrs. Toole is fond of roast beef— but Madame is loyal in her adherence to onions: in short, so equally are the merits of the two ladies ba- lanced, that there is no judging which will “ kick the beam.”—It however seems to be the prevailing opinion, that Madame Bouchard will carry the day, because she wears a wig, has a long nose, talks French, loves onions, and does not charge above ten times as much for a thing as it is worth. Under the direction of these high priestesses of the beau-monde, the following is the fashionable morning dress for walking : If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin gown, or frock, is most advisable—because it agrees with the 48 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS season, being perfectly cool. The neck, arms, and par- ticularly the elbows bare, in order that they may be agreeably painted and mottled by Mr. John Frost, nose-painter-general, of the colour of Castile soap. Shoes of kid, the thinnest that can possibly be pro- cured—as they tend to promote colds and make a lady look interesting—(i. e. grizzly). Picnic silk stockings, with lace clocks—flesh-coloured are most fashionable, as they have the appearance of bare legs—nudity being allthe rage. ‘The stockings carelessly bespattered with mud, to agree with the gown, which should be bor- dered about three inches deep with the most fashion- ably coloured mud that can be found: the ladies per- mitted to hold up their trains, after they have swept two or three streets, in order to show—the clocks of their stockings. ‘The shawl scarlet, crimson, flame, orange, salmon, or any other combustible or brimstone colour, thrown over one shoulder, like an Indian blan- ket, with one end dragging on the ground. N. B.—If the ladies have not a red shawl at hand, a red petticoat turned topsy-turvy, over the shoulders, would do just as well. ‘This is called being dressed a-la-drabble. When the ladies do not go abroad of a morning, the usual chimney-corner dress is a dotted, spotted, striped, or cross-barred gown—a yellowish, whitish, smokish, dirty-coloured shawl, and the hair curiously orna- mented with little bits of newspapers, or pieces of a letter from a dear friend. This is called the ‘ Cin- derella dress.” The recipe for a full dress is as follows:—Take of spider-net, crape, satin, gymp, cat-gut, gauze, whale- bone, lace, bobbin, ribands, and artificia. flowers, as OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, FSQ. 49 much as will rig out the congregation of a village church; to these add as many spangles, beads, and. gew-gaws, as would be sufficient to turn the heads of all the fashionable fair ones of Nootka Sound. Let Mrs. Toole, or Madame Bouchard, patch all these articles together, one upon another, dash them plenti- fully over with stars, bugles, and tinsel, and they will altogether form a dress, which, hung upon a lady’s back, cannot fail of supplying the place of beauty, youth, and grace, and of reminding the spectator of that celebrated region of finery, called Rag Fair. _ One of the greatest sources of amusement incident to our humorous kmnight-errantry is to ramble about and hear the various conjectures of the town respecting our worships, whom every body pretends to know as well as Falstaff did Prince Hal at Gads-hill. We have sometimes seen a sapient, sleepy fellow, on being tickled with a straw, make a furious effort, and fancy he had fairly caught a gnat in his grasp; so, that many-headed monster, the public, who with all his heads is, we fear, sadly off for brains, has, after long hovering, come souse down, like a king-tisher, on the authors of Salma- gundi, and caught them as certainly as the aforesaid honest fellow caught the gnat. Would that we were rich enough to give every one of our numerous readers a farthing, as a reward for their ingenuity ! not that they have really conjectured within a thousand leagues of the truth, but that we consider it a great stretch of ingenuity even to have guessed wrong ;—and that we hold ourselves much obliged to them for having taken the trouble to guess at all. E 50 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS One of the most tickling, dear, mischievous pleasures of this life is to laugh in one’s sleeve—to sit snug in a corner, unnoticed and unknown, and hear the wise men of Gotham, who are profound judges, of horse- flesh, pronounce, from the style of our work, who are the authors. This listening incog, and receiving a hearty praising over another man’s back, is a situation so celestially whimsical, that we have done little else than laugh in our sleeve ever since our first number was published. The town has at length allayed the titillations of curlosity, by fixing on two young gentlemen of literary talents—that is to say, they are equal to the com- position of a newspaper squib, a hodge-podge criticism, or some such trifle, and may occasionally raise a smile by their effusions; but pardon us, sweet sirs, if we modestly doubt your capability of supporting the bur- then of Salmagundi, or of keeping up a laugh for a whole fortnight, as we have done, and intend to do, until the whole town becomes a community of laughing philosophers like ourselves. We have no intention, however, of undervaluing the abilities of those two young men, whom we verily believe, according to common acceptation, young men of promise. Were we ill-natured, we might publish something that would get our representatives into difficulties; but far be it from us to do any thing to the injury of per- sons to whom we are under such obligations. While they stand before us, we, like little Teucer, behind the sevenfold shield of Ajax, can launch unseen our sportive arrows, which we trust will never inflict a wound, unless like his they fly, “ heaven directed,” to some conscious-struck bosom. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 51 Another marvellous great source of pleasure to us is the abuse’ our work has received from several wooden gentlemen, whose censures we covet more than ever we did any thing in our lives. The moment we declared open war against folly and stupidity we expected to receive no quarter, and to provoke a confederacy of all the blockheads in town. For it is one of our indis- putable facts, that so soon as you catch a gander by the tail, the whole flock, geese, goslings, one and all, have a fellow-feeling on the occasion, and begin to eackle and hiss like so many devils bewitched. As we have a profound respect for these ancient and respect- able birds, on the score of their once saving the capitol, we hereby declare, that we mean no offence whatever by comparing them to the aforesaid confederacy. We have heard in our walks such criticisms on Salmagundi, as almost induced a belief that folly had here, as in the east, her moments of inspired idiotism. Every silly royster has, as if by an instinctive sense of anticipated danger, joined in the cry; and condemned us without mercy. Allis thus as it should be. It would have mortified us very sensibly had we been disappointed in this particular, as we should then have been appre- hensive that our shafts had fallen to the ground, inno- cent of the “blood or brains” of a single numskull. Our efforts have been crowned with wonderful success. All the queer fish, the grubs, the flats, the noddies, and the live oak and timber gentlemen, are pointing their empty guns at us; and we are threatened with a most puissant confederacy of the “ pigmies and cranes,” and other “ light militia,” backed by the heavy-armed artillery of dulness and stupidity. The veriest dreams of our most sanguine moments are thus realized. We E2 52 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS have no fear of the censures of the wise, the good, or the fair; for they will ever be sacred from our attacks. We reverence the wise, love the good, and adore the fair; we declare ourselves champions in their cause— in the cause of morality—and we throw our gauntlet to all the world besides. While we profess and feel the same indifference to public applause as at first, we most earnestly invite the attacks and censures of all the wooden warriors of this sensible city, and especially of that distinguished and learned body, heretofore celebrated under the ap- — pellation of “ the North-river Society.” The thrice valiant and renowned Don Quixote never made such work amongst the wool-clad warriors of Trapoban, or the puppets of the itinerant showman, as we promise to make amongst these fine fellows; and we pledge ourselves to the public in general, and the Albany skippers in particular, that the North-river shall not be set on fire this winter at least, for we shall give the authors of that nefarious scheme ample employment for some time to come. PROCLAMATION, FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. To all the young belles who enliven our scene, From ripe five-and-forty to blooming fifteen ; Who racket at routs, and who rattle at plays, Who visit, and fidget, and dance out their days: Who conquer all hearts with a shot from the eye, Who freeze with a frown, and who thaw with a sigh :— OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 53 To all those bright youths who embellish the age, Whether young boys, or old boys, or numskull or sage: Whether dull dogs, who cringe at their mistress’s feet, Who sigh and who whine, and who try to look sweet ; Whether tough dogs, who squat down stock still in a row, And play wooden gentlemen stuck up for show ; Or sad dogs, who glory in running their rigs, Now dash in their sleighs, and now whirl in their gigs ; Who riot at Dyde’s on imperial champaign, And then scour our city—the peace to maintain : To whome’er it concerns or may happen to meet, By these presents their worships I lovingly greet. _ Now know ye, that I, Pindar Cockloft, esquire, Am laureate appointed at special desire ;— A censor, self-dubb’d, to admonish the fair, And tenderly take the town under my care. I’m a ci-devant beau, cousin Launcelot has said— A remnant of habits long vanish’d and dead : But still, though my heart dwells with rapture sublime On the fashions and customs which reign’d in my prime, I yet can perceive—and still candidly praise, Some maxims and manners of these “ latter days ;” Still own that some wisdom and beauty appears, Though almost entomb’d in the rubbish of years. No fierce nor tyrannical cynic am I, Who frown on each foible I chance to espy ; Who pounce on a novelty just like a kite, And tear up a victim through malice or spite : Who expose to the scoffs of an ill-natured crew A trembler for starting a whim that.is new. No, no—I shall cautiously hold up my glass, To the sweet little blossoms who heedlessly pass ; My remarks not too pointed to wound or offend, Nor so vague as to miss their benevolent end : 54 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Each innocent fashion shall have its full sway ; New modes shall arise to astonish Broadway ; Red hats and red shawls still illumine the town, And each belle, like a bon-fire, blaze up and down. Fair spirits, who brighten the gloom of our days, Who cheer this dull scene with your heavenly rays, No mortal can love you more firmly and true, From the crown of the head, to the sole of your shoe. I’m old-fashion’d, ’tis true—but still runs in my heart That affectionate stream, to which youth gave the start— More calm in its current—yet potent in force ; Less ruffled by gales—but still stedfast in course. Though the lover, enraptured, no longer appears,— "Tis the guide and the guardian enlighten’d by years, All ripen’d, and mellow’d, and soften’d by time, The asperities polish’d which chafed in my prime ; I am fully prepared for that delicate end, The fair one’s instructor, companion, and friend. —And should I perceive you in fashion’s gay dance, Allured by the frippery mongers of France, Expose your weak frames to a chill wintry sky To be nipp’d by its frosts, to be torn from the eye ; My soft admonitions shall fall on your ear— Shall whisper those parents to whom you are dear— Shall warn you of hazards you heedlessly run, And sing of those fair ones whom frost has undone ; Bright suns that would scarce on our horizon dawn, Ere shrouded from sight, they were early withdrawn : Gay sylphs, who have floated in circles below, As pure in their souls, and as transient as snow; Sweet roses, that bloom’d and decay'd to my eye, And of forms that have flitted and pass’d to the sky. But as to those brainless pert bloods of our town, Those sprigs of the ton who run decency down ; OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 55 ~ Who lounge and who loot, and who booby about, No knowledge within, and no manners without ; Who stare at each beauty with insolent eyes, Who rail at those morals their fathers would prize ; Who are loud at the play—and who impiously dare To come in their cups to the routs of the fair ; I shall hold up my mirror, to let them survey The figures they cut as they dash it away ; Should my good humour’d verse no amendment produce, Like scare-crows, at least, they shall still be of use ; I shall stitch them, in effigy, up in my rhyme, And hold them aloft through the progress of time, As figures of fun to make the folks laugh, Like that queer-looking angel erected by Paff, *‘ What shtops,” as he says, ‘ all de people what come ; “« What smiles on dem all, and what peats on de trum.” ~ 56 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. IV.—TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Peruaprs there is no class of men to which the cu- rious and literary are more indebted than travellers ; —I mean travel-mongers, who write whole volumes about themselves, their horses and their servants, in- terspersed with anecdotes of inn-keepers,—droll say- ings of stage-drivers, and interesting memeirs of—the lord knows who. They will give you a full account of a city, its manners, customs, and manufactures ; though perhaps all their knowledge of. it was obtained by a peep from their inn-windows, and an interesting conversation with the landlord or the waiter. America has had its share of these buzzards; and in the name of my countrymen I return them profound thanks for the compliments they have lavished upon us, and. the variety of particulars concerning our own country which we should never have discovered without their assistance. Influenced by such sentiments, I am delighted to find that the Cockloft family, among its other whimsical and monstrous productions, is about to be enriched with a genuine travel-writer. This is no less a per- sonage than Mr. Jeremy Cock ort, the only son and darling pride of my cousin, Mr. Christopher Cockloft. I should have said Jeremy Cockloft, the younger, as he so styles himself, by way of distinguishing him from Il Signore Jeremy Cockloftico, a gouty old gentleman, who flourished about the time that Pliny the elder was smoked to death with the fire and brimstone of Ve- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 57 suvius; and whose travels, if he ever wrote any, are now lost for ever to the world. Jeremy is at present in his one-and-twentieth year, and a young fellow of wonderful quick parts, if you will trust to the word of his father, who, having begotten him, should be the best judge of the matter. He is the oracle of the family, dictates to his sisters on every occasion, though they are some dozen or more years older than himself ; —and never did son give mother better advice than . Jeremy. As old Cockloft was determined his son should be both a scholar and a gentleman, he took great pains with his education, which was completed at our un1- versity, where he became exceedingly expert in quiz- zing his teachers and playing billiards. No student made better squibs and crackers to blow up the chemical professor—no one chalked more ludicrous caricatures on the walls of the colleee—and none were more adroit in shaving pigs and climbing lightning rods. He moreover learned all the letters of the Greek alphabet ; - could demonstrate that water never “of its own accord” rose above the level of its source, and that air was certainly the principle of life, for he had been enter- tained with the humane experiment of a cat worried to death in an air-pump. He once shook down the ash- house, by an artificial earthquake; and nearly blew his sister Barbara, and her cat, out of the window with detonating powder. He likewise boasts exceedingly of being thoroughly acquainted with the composition of Lacedemonian black broth; and once made a pot of it, which had well nigh poisoned the whole family, and actually threw the cook-maid into convulsions. But above all, he values himself upon his logic, has the old 58 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS college conundrum of the cat with three tails at his fingers’ ends, and often hampers his father with his syllogisms, to the great delight of the old gentleman ; who considers the major, minor, and conclusion, as almost equal in argument to the pulley, the wedge, and the lever, in mechanics. In fact, my cousin Cock- loft was once nearly annihilated with astonishment, on hearing Jeremy trace the derivation of Mango from Jeremiah King;—as Jeremiah King, Jerry King! Jerking, Girkin! cucumber, Mango! In short, had Jeremy been a student at Oxford or Cambridge, he would, in all probability, have been promoted to the dignity of a senior wrangler. By this sketch, I mean no disparagement to the abilities of other students of our college, for I have no doubt that every commence- ment ushers ito society luminaries full as brilliant as Jeremy Cockloft the younger. Having made a very pretty speech on graduating, to a numerous assemblage of old folks and young ladies, who all declared that he was a very fine young man, and made very handsome gestures, Jeremy was seized with a great desire to see, or rather to be seen by the world; and as his father was anxious to give him every possible advantage, it was determined Jeremy should visit foreign parts. In consequence of this resolution, he has spent a matter of three or four months in visit- ing strange places; and in the course of his travels has tarried some few days at the splendid metropolises of Albany and Philadelphia. Jeremy has travelled as every modern man of sense should do; that is, he judges of things by the sample next at hand; if he has ever any doubt on a subject, always decides against the city where he happens to OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 59 sojourn; and invariably takes home, as the standard by which to direct his judgment. Going into his room the other day, when he hap- pened to be absent, I found a manuscript volume lying on his table; and was overjoyed to find it contained notes and hints for a book of travels which he intends publishing. He seems to have taken a late fashionable travel-monger for his model, and I have no doubt his work will be equally instructive and amusing with that of his prototype. The following are some extracts, which may not prove uninteresting to my readers. MEMORANDUMS FOR A TOUR, TO BE ENTITLED “—To add to my distress, the first word he spoke was to tell Miss Sparkle that something she said reminded him of a circumstance that happened to him in China ;—and at it he went, in the true traveller style,—described the Chinese mode of eating rice with chop-sticks ;— entered into a long eulogium on the succulent qualities of boiled birds’ nests: and I made my escape at the very moment when he was on the point of squatting down on the floor, to show how the little Chinese Joshes sit cross-legged. - TO THE LADIES, FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. Tuovugu jogging down the hill of life, Without the comfort of a wife ; And though I ne’er a helpmate chose, To stock my house and mend my hose; With care my person to adorn, And spruce me up on Sunday morn ;-— Still do I love the gentle sex, And still with cares my brain perplex To keep the fair ones of the age Unsullied as the spotless page ; G2 84 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS All pure, all simple, all refined, The sweetest solace of mankind. I hate the loose insidious jest To beauty’s modest ear addrest, And hold that frowns should never fai! To check each smooth, but fulsome tale: But he whose impious pen should dare Invade the morals of the fair ; To taint that purity divine Which should each female heart enshrine; Though soft his vicious strains should swell, As those which erst from Gabriel fell, Should yet be held aloft to shame, And foul dishonour shade his name. Judge then, my friends, of my surprise, The ire that kindled in my eyes, When I relate, that t’ other day T went a morning call to pay On two young nieces, just come down To take the polish of the town: By which I mean no more or less Than a la Frangaise to undress; To whirl the modest waltz’s rounds, Taught by Duport for snug ten pounds: To thump and thunder through a song, Play fortes soft, and dolces strong ; Exhibit loud piano feats, - Caught from that crotchet-hero, Meetz: To drive the rose bloom from the face, And fix the lily in its place; To doff the white, and in its stead To bounce about in brazen red. v While in the parlour I delay’d, Till they their persons had array’d, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. A dapper volume caught my eye, That on the window chanced to lie: A book’s a friend—I always choose To turn its pages and peruse :— It prov’d those poems known to fame For praising every cyprian dame; The bantlings of a dapper youth, Renown’'d for gratitude and truth; A little pest, hight Tommy Moore, Who hopp’d and skipp’d our country o’er ; Who sipp’d our tea and lived on sops, Revell’d on syllabubs and slops, And when his brain, of cobweb fine, Was fuddled with five drops of wine, Would all his puny loves rehearse, And many a maid debauch—in verse. ‘Surprised to meet in open view A book of such lascivious hue, - I chid my nieces—but they say, Tis all the passion of the day ;— That many a fashionable belle Will with enraptured accents dwell On the sweet morceau she has found In this delicious, curst compound ! Soft do the tinkling numbers roll, And lure to vice the unthinking soul ; They tempt by softest sounds away, They lead entranced the heart astray: And Satan’s doctrine sweetly sing, As with a seraph’s heavenly string. Such sounds, so good, old Homer sung, Once warbled from the siren’s tongue ;— Sweet melting tones were heard to pour Along Ausonia’s sun-gilt shore ;— WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Seductive strains in ether float, And every wild deceitful note That could the yielding heart assail, Were wafted on the breathing gale; — And every gentle accent bland To tempt Ulysses to their strand. And can it be this book so base Is laid on every window-case? Oh! fair ones, if you will profane Those breasts where heaven itself should reign ; And throw those pure recesses wide, Where peace and virtue should reside; To let the holy pile admit A guest unhallow’d and unfit ; Pray, like the frail ones of the night, Who hide their wanderings from the light, So let your errors secret be, And hide, at least, your fault from me: Seek some by corner to explore The smooth polluted pages o'er: There drink the insidious poison in, There slily nurse your souls for sin: And while that purity you blight Which stamps you messengers of light, And sap those mounds the gods bestow, T'o keep you spotless here below ; Still in compassion to our race, Who joy, not only in the face, But in that more exalted part, The secret temple of the heart; Oh! hide for ever from our view The fatal mischief you pursue— Let Men your praises still exalt, And none but Angels mourn your fault. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 87 NO. VI.—FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Tue Cockloft family, of which I have made such frequent mention, is of great antiquity, if there be any truth in the genealogical tree which hangs up in my cousin’s library. ‘They trace their descent from a cele- brated Roman Knight, cousin to the progenitor of his Majesty of Britain, who left his native country on occasion of some disgust; and coming into Wales, be- came a great favourite of Prince Madoc, and accom- panied that famous argonaut in the voyage whicli ended in the discovery of this continent.—Though a member of the family, I have sometimes ventured to doubt the authenticity of this portion of their annals, to the great vexation of cousin Christopher, who is looked up to as the head of our house; and who, though as orthodox as a bishop, would sooner give up the whole decalogue than lop off a single limb of the family tree. From time immemorial, it has been the rule for the Cocklofts to marry one of their own name; and as they always bred like rabbits, the family has increased and multi- plied like that of Adam and Eve. In truth their num- ber is almost imcredible; and you can hardly go into any part of the country without starting a warren of genuine Cocklofts. Every person of the least observa- tion, or experience, must have observed that where this practice of marrying cousins, and second cousins, pre- vails in a family, every member, in the course of a few ~ generations, becomes queer, humorous, and original ; as much distinguished from the common race of mon- grels as if he were of a different species. This has hap- 88 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS pened in our family, and particularly in that branch of it of which Christopher Cockloft, Esq. is the head. — Christopher is, in fact, the only married man of the name who resides in town; his family is small, having lost most of his children when young, by the excessive care he took to bring them up like vegetables. This was one of his first whim-whams, and a confounded one it was; as his children might have told, had they not fallen victims to his experiment before they could talk. He had got, from some quack philosopher or other, a notion that there was a complete analogy - between children and plants, and that they ought to be both reared. alike. Accordingly he sprinkled them every morning with water, laid them out in the sun, as he did his geraniums; and if the season was remark- ably dry, repeated this wise experiment three or four times of a morning. ‘The consequence was, the poor little souls died one after the other, except Jeremy and his two sisters; who, to be sure, are a trio of as odd, runty, mummy-looking originals as ever Hogarth fancied in his most happy moments. Mrs. Cockloft, the larger if not the better half of my cousin, often remonstrated against this vegetable theory ;—and even brought the parson of the parish, in which my cousin’s country-house is situated, to her aid; but in vain: © Christopher persisted, and attributed the failure of his plan to its not having been exactly conformed to. As I have mentioned Mrs. Cockloft, I may as well say a little more about her while I am in the humour. She is a lady of wonderful notability, a warm admirer of shining mahogany, clean hearths, and her husband ; whom she considers the wisest man in the world, bating Will Wizard and the parson of our parish; the last of OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 89 whom is her oracle on all occasions. She goes con- stantly to church every Sunday and saint’s-day, and insists upon it that no man is entitled to ascend a pul- pit unless he has been ordained by a bishop; nay, so far does she carry her orthodoxy, that all the argu- ments in the world will never persuade her that a Presbyterian or Baptist, or even a Calvinist, has any possible chance of going to heaven. Above every thing else, however, she abhors Paganism; can scarcely re- frain from laying violent hands on a Pantheon when ‘she meets with it; and was very nigh going into hy- sterics, when my cousin insisted that one of his boys should be christened after our laureate, because the parson of the parish had told her that Pindar was the name of a Pagan writer, famous for his love of boxing- matches, wrestling, and horse-racing. ‘To sum up all her qualifications in the shortest possible way, Mrs. Cockloft is, in the true sense of the phrase, a good sort of a woman; and I often congratulate my cousin on possessing her. The rest of the family consists of Jeremy Cockloft, the younger, who has already been mentioned, and the two Miss Cocklofts, or rather the young ladies, as they have been called by the servants time out of mind; not that they are really young, the younger being somewhat on the shady side of thirty— but it has ever been the custom to call every member of the family young under fifty. In the south-east corner of the house, I hold quiet possession of an old- fashioned apartment, where myself and my elbow-chair are suffered to amuse ourselves undisturbed, save at meal times. This apartment old Cockloft has face- tiously denominated Cousin Launce’s Paradise; and the good old gentleman has two or three favourite joke, 90 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS about it, which are served up as regularly as the stand- ing family-dish of beef-steaks and onions, which every day maintains its station at the foot of the table, in defiance of mutton, poultry, or even venison itself. . Though the family is apparently small, yet, like most old establishments of the kind, it does not want for honorary members. It is the city rendezvous of the Cocklofts; and we are continually enlivened by the company of half a score of uncles, aunts, and cousins in the fortieth remove, from all parts of the country, who profess a wonderful regard for Cousin Christopher ; and overwhelm every member of his household, down to the cook in the kitchen, with their attentions. We have for three weeks past been greeted with the com- pany of two worthy old spinsters, who came down from the country to settle a law-suit. They have done little else but retail stories of their village neighbours, knit stockings, and take snuff, all the time they have been here: the whole family are bewildered with church-yard tales of sheeted ghosts, white horses with- out heads, and with large goggle eyes in their buttocks ; and not one of the old servants dare budge an inch after dark without a numerous company at his heels. My cousin’s visitors, however, always return his hospitality with due gratitude, and now and then remind him of their fraternal regard, by a present of a pot of apple sweetmeats, or a barrel of sour cider at Christmas. Jeremy displays himself to great advantage among his country relations, who all think him a prodigy, and often stand astounded, in “ gaping wonderment,” at his natural philosophy. He lately frightened a simple old uncle almost out of his wits, by giving it as his opinion that the earth would one day be scorched to OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 91 ashes by the eccentric gambols of the famous comet, so much talked of; and positively asserted that this world revolved round the sun, and that the moon was cer- tainly inhabited. The family mansion bears equal marks of antiquity with its inhabitants. As the Cocklofts are remarkable for their attachment to every thing that has remained long in the family, they are bigoted towards their old edifice, and I dare say would sooner have it crumble about their ears than abandonit. The consequence is, it has been so patched up and repaired, that it has be- come as full of whims and oddities as its tenants; re- quires to be nursed and humoured like a gouty old codger of an alderman; and reminds one of the fa- mous ship in which a certain admiral circumnavigated the globe, which was so patched and timbered, in order to preserve so great a curiosity, that at length not a particle of the original remained. Whenever the wind blows, the old mansion makes a most perilous groan- ing; and every storm is sure to make a day’s work for the carpenter, who attends upon it as regularly as the family physician. This predilection for every thing that has been long in the family shows itself in every particular. ‘The domestics are all grown grey in the service of our house. We have a little, old, crusty, grey-headed negro, who has lived through two or three generations of the Cocklofts, and, of course, has be- come a personage of no little importance in the house- hold. He calls all the family by their christian names; tells long stories about how he dandled them on his knee when they were children; and is a complete Cock- loft chronicle for the last seventy years. 'The family carriage was made in the last French war, and the old Q2 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS horses were most indubitably foaled in Noah’s ark— resembling marvellously, in gravity of demeanour, those sober animals which may be seen any day of the year in the streets of Philadelphia, walking their snail’s pace, a dozen in a row, and harmoniously jingling their bells. Whim-whams are the inheritance of the Cock- lofts, and every member of the household is a humorist - sui generis, from the master down to the footman. The very cats and dogs are humorists; and we have a little runty scoundrel of a cur, who, whenever the church bells ring, will run to the street door, turn up his nose in the wind, and howl most piteously. Jeremy insists that this is owing to a peculiar delicacy in the organiza- tion of his ears, and supports his position by many Jearned arguments which nobody can understand ; but I am of opinion that it is a mere Cockloft whim-wham, which the little cur idulges, being descended from a race of dogs which has flourished in the family ever since the time of my grandfather. A propensity to save every thing that bears the stamp of family an- tiquity has accumulated an abundance of trumpery and rubbish with which the house is encumbered, from the cellar to the garret; and every room, and closet, and corner, is crammed with three-legged chairs, clocks without hands, swords without scabbards, cocked hats, broken candlesticks, and looking-glasses with frames carved into fantastic shapes of feathered sheep, woolly birds, and other animals that have no name except in books of heraldry.—The ponderous mahogany chairs in the parlour are of such unwieldy proportions, that it is quite a serious undertaking to gallant one of them across the room; and sometimes make a most equivocal noise when you sit down in a hurry: the mantel-piece OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 95 is decorated with little lacquered earthen shepherdesses —some of which are without toes, and others without noses; and the fire-place is garnished out with Dutch tiles, exhibiting a great variety of Scripture pieces, which my good old soul of a cousin takes infinite de- light in explaining. Poor Jeremy hates them as he does poison; for while a younker, he was obliged by his mother to learn the history of a tile every Sunday morning before she would permit him to join his play- mates: this was a terrible affair for Jeremy, who by ‘the time he had learned the last had forgotten the first, and was obliged to begin again. He assured me the other day, with a round college oath, that if the old house stood out till he inherited it, he would have these tiles taken out and ground into powder, for the perfect hatred he bore them. My cousin Christopher enjoys unlimited authority in the mansion of his forefathers; he is truly what may be termed a hearty old blade—has a florid, sunshiny countenance, and, if you will only praise his wine, and laugh at his long stories, himself and his house are heartily at your service. The first condition is indeed easily complied with, for, to tell the truth, his wine is excellent; but his stories, being not of the best, and oiten repeated, are apt to create a disposition to yawn, being, in addition to their other qualities, most un- reasonably long. His prolixity is the more afflicting to me, since I have all his stories by heart; and when he enters upon one, it reminds me of Newark causeway, where the traveller sees the end at the distance of several miles. ‘To the great misfortune of all his acquaint- ance, cousin Cockloft is blessed with a most provoking retentive memory, and can give day and date, and “94 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS name and age and circumstance, with most unfeeling precision. ‘These, however, are but trivial foibles, for- gotten, or remembered only with a kind of tender re- spectful pity, by those who know with what a rich re- dundant harvest of kindness and generosity his heart is stored. It would delight you to see with what social gladness he welcomes a visitor into his house; and the poorest man that enters his door never leaves it without a cordial invitation to sit down and drink a glass of wine. By the honest farmers round his country seat, he is looked up to with love and reverence; they never pass him by without his inquiring after the welfare of their families, and receiving a cordial shake of his liberal hand. ‘There are but two classes of people who are thrown out of the reach of his hospitality—and these are Frenchmen and Democrats. ‘The old gentleman considers it treason against the majesty of good breed- ing to speak to any visitor with his hat on; but the moment a Democrat enters his door, he forthwith bids his man Pompey bring his hat, puts it on his head, and salutes him with an appalling ‘ Well, sir, what do you want with me ?” He has a profound contempt for Fraichnen and firmly believes that they eat nothing but frogs and soup-maigre in their own country. ‘This unlucky pre- judice is partly owing to my great aunt Pamela having been, many years ago, run away with by a French Count, who turned out to be the son of a generation of barbers; and partly to a little vivid spark of toryism, which burns in a secret corner of his heart. He wasa loyal subject of the crown; has hardly yet recovered the shock of Independence; and, though he does not care to own it, always does honour to his Majesty’s OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 95 birth-day, by inviting a few cavaliers, like himself, to dinner; and gracing his table with more than ordinary festivity. If by chance the revolution 1s mentioned before him, my cousin shakes his head: and you may see, if you take good note, a lurking smile of contempt in the corner of his eye, which marks a decided dis- approbation of the sound. He once, in the fulness of his heart, observed to me that green peas were a month later than they were under the old government. But the most eccentric manifestation of loyalty he ever gave was making a voyage to Halifax for no other reason under heaven but to hear his Majesty prayed for in church, as he used to be here formerly. This he never could be brought fairly to acknowledge; but it is a certain fact, I assure you.—It is not a little singular that a person, so much given to long story-telling as my cousin, should take a liking to another of the same character; but so it 1s with the old gentleman—his prime favourite and companion is Will Wizard, who is almost a member of the family, and will sit before the fire, with his feet on the massy andirons, and smoke his cigar, and screw his phiz, and spin away tremendous long stories of his travels, for a whole evening, to the great delight of the old gentleman and lady, and espe- cially of the young ladies, who, lke Desdemona, do * seriously incline,” and listen to him with innumerable “OQ dears,” “is it possibles,” “ goody graciouses,” and look upon him as a second Sinbad the sailor. The Miss Cocklofts, whose pardon I crave for not having particularly introduced them before, are a pair of delectable damsels; who, having purloined and locked up the family-bible, pass for just what age they please to plead guilty to. Barbara, the eldest, has 96 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS long since resigned the character of a belle, and_adopted that staid, sober, demure, snuff-taking air, becoming her years and discretion. She is a good-natured soul, whom I never saw in a passion but once; and that was occasioned by seeing an old favourite beau of hers kiss the hand of a pretty blooming girl; and, in truth, she only got angry because, as she very properly said, it was spoiling the child. Her sister Margery, or Maggie, as she is familiarly termed, seemed disposed to main- tain her post as a belle, until a few months since; when accidentally hearmg a gentleman observe that she broke very fast, she suddenly left off going to the assembly, took a cat into high favour, and began to rail at the forward pertness of young misses. From that moment I set her down for an old maid; and so she is, “ by the hand of my body.” The young ladies are still visited by some half dozen of veteran beaux, who grew and flourished in the hawt ton when the Miss Cocklofts | were quite children, but have been brushed rather rudely by the hand of time, who, to say the truth, can do almost any thing but make people young. ‘They are, notwithstanding, still warm candidates for female favour; look venerably tender, and repeat over and over the same honeyed speeches and sugared sentiments to the little belles that they poured so profusely into the ears of their mothers. I beg leave here to give notice, that by this sketch I mean no reflection on old bachelors; on the contrary, I hold, that next to a fine lady, the ne plus ultra, an old bachelor is the most charming being upon earth; inasmuch as by living in “ single blessedness,” he of course does just as he pleases; and if he has any genius must acquire a plentiful stock of whims, and oddities, and whalebone OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 97 habits: without which I esteem a man to be mere beef without mustard, good for nothing at all but to run on errands for ladies, take boxes at the theatre, and act the part of a screen at tea-parties, or a walking-stick im the streets. I merely speak of those old boys who in- fest public walks, pounce upon ladies from every corner of the street, and worry and frisk and amble, and caper before, behind, and round about the fashionable belles, like old ponies in a pasture, striving to supply the ab- sence of youthful whim and hilarity by grimaces and grins, and artificial vivacity. I have sometimes seen one of these ‘reverend youths” endeavouring to ele- vate his wintry passions into something like love, by basking in the sunshine of beauty; and it did remind me of a moth attempting to fly through a pane of glass towards a light, without ever approaching near enough to warm itself or scorch its wings. Never, I firmly believe, did there exist a fimnily that went more by tangents than the Cocklofts.—Every thing is governed by whim; and if one member starts a new freak, away all the rest follow on, like wild geese ina string. As the family, the servants, the horses, cats and dogs, have all grown old together, they have accommodated themselves to each other’s habits com- pletely ; and though every body of them is full of odd points, angles, rhomboids, and ins and outs, yet some- how or other, they harmonize together like so many straight lines; and it is truly a grateful and refreshing sight to see them agree so well. Should one, however, get out of tune, it is like a cracked fiddle, the whole concert is ajar; you perceive a cloud over every brow in the house, and even the old chairs seem to creak affettuoso. If my cousin, as he is rather apt to do, H 98 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS betray any symptoms of vexation or uneasiness, no matter about what, he is worried to death with in- quiries, which answer no other end but to demonstrate the good will of the inquirer, and put him in a passion; for every body knows how provoking it is to be cut short in a fit of the blues, by an impertinent question about “what is the matter?” when a man can’t tell himself. I remember a few months ago the old gentle- man came home in quite a squall; kicked poor Cesar, the mastiff, out of his way, as he came through the hall; threw his hat on the table with most violent emphasis, and pulling out his box, took three huge pinches of snuff, and threw a fourth into the cat’s eyes as he sat purring his astonishment by the fire-side. This was enough to set the body politic going; Mrs. Cockloft began “ my dearing” it as fast as tongue could move; the young ladies took each a stand at an elbow of his chair; Jeremy marshalled in rear; the servants came tumbling in; the mastiff put up an inquiring nose; and even grimalkin, after he had cleansed his whiskers and finished sneezing, discovered indubitable signs of sympathy. After the most affectionate in- quiries on all sides, it turned out that my cousin, in crossing the street, had got his silk stockings bespattered’ with mud by a coach, which it seems belonged to a dashing gentleman who had formerly supplied the fa- mily with hot rolls and muffins! Mrs. Cockloft there- upon turned up her eyes, and the young ladies their noses; and it would have edified a whole congregation to hear the conversation which took place concerning the insolence of upstarts, and the vulgarity of would-be gentlemen and ladies, who strive to emerge from low life by dashing about in carriages to pay a visit two OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 99 doors off; giving parties to people who laugh at them, and cutting all their old friends *. THEATRICS. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. I wENT, a few evenings since, to the theatre, accom- panied by my friend *Sbidlikens, the Cockney, who is a man deeply read in the history of Cinderella, Valentine and Orson, Blue Beard, and all those recondite works so necessary to enable a man to understand the modern drama. ’Sbidlikens is one of those intolerable fellows who will never be pleased with any thing until he has turned and twisted it divers ways, to see if it corre- sponds with his notions of congruity ; and as he is none of the quickest in his ratiocinations, he will sometimes come out with his approbation, when every body else has forgotten the cause which excited it. “Sbidlikens is, moreover, a great critic, for he finds fault with every thing; this being what I understand by modern criticism. He, however, is pleased to acknowledge that our the- atre is not so despicable, all things considered; and really thinks Cooper one of our best.actors. The play was Othello, and, to speak my mind freely, I think I have seen it performed much worse in my time. The actors, I firmly believe, did their best; and whenever this is the case, no man has a right to find fault with * The freedom apparent in this sketch of the Cocklofts renders it ex- tremely improbable that the authors of Salmagundi, contrary to their re- peated declaration, had‘‘ individuals and not the species” in their view ; yet common rumour has asserted that it was designed to represent the Livingstons of New York—a family of long standing and great respect- ability. —Edit. ng 100 WHIM-=WHAMS AND OPINIONS them, in my opinion. Little Rutherford, the Roscius of the Philadelphia theatre, looked as big as possible; and what he wanted in size he made up in frowning. I like frowning in tragedy; and if a man but keeps his forehead in proper wrinkle, talks big, and takes long strides on the stage, I always set him down as a great tragedian; and so does my friend ’Sbidlikens. Before the first act was over, ’Sbidlikens began to flourish his critical wooden sword like a harlequin. He first found fault with Cooper for not having made himself as black as a negro; “for,” said he, ‘ that Othello was an arrant black appears from several ex- pressions of the play; as for instance, ‘ thick lips,’ “sooty bosom,’ and a variety of others. I am in- clined to think,” continued he, ‘‘ that Othello was an Egyptian by birth, from the circumstance of the hand- kerchief given to his mother by a native of that country; and, if so, he certainly was as black as my hat: for Herodotus has told us, that the Egyptians had_ flat noses and frizzled hair; a clear proof that they were all negroes.” He did not confine his strictures to this single error of the actor, but went on to run him down in toto. In this he was seconded by a red-hot Phila- delphian, who proved, by a string of most eloquent logical puns, that Fennel was unquestionably in every respect a better actor than Cooper. I knew it was vain to contend with him, since I recollected a most obstinate trial of skill these two great Roscii had last spring in Philadelphia. Cooper brandished his blood- stained dagger at the theatre—Fennel flourished his snuff-box and shook his wig at the Lyceum, and the unfortunate Philadelphians were a long time at. a loss to decide which deserved the palm. “The literati were OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 101 inclined to give it to Cooper, because his name was the most fruitful in puns; but then, on the other side, it was contended that Fennel was the best Greek scholar. Scarcely was the town of Strasburgh in a greater hub- bub about the courteous stranger’s nose; and it was well that the doctors of the University did not get into the dispute, else it might have become a battle of folios. At length, after much excellent argument had been expended on both sides, recourse was had to Cocker’s arithmetic and a carpenter’s rule; the rival candidates were both measured by one of their most steady-handed critics, and by the most exact measurement it was proved that Mr. Fennel was the greater actor by three inches and a quarter. Since this demonstration of his inferiority, Cooper has never been able to hold up his head in Philadelphia. In order to change a conversation in which my fa- _vourite suffered so much, I made some inquiries of the Philadelphian concerning the two heroes of his theatre, Wood and Cain; but I had scarcely mentioned their names, when, whack! he threw a whole handful of puns in my face; ’twas like a bowl of cold water. I turned on my heel, had recourse to my tobacco-box, and said no more about Wood and Cain; nor will I ever more, if I can help it, mention their names in the presence of a Philadelphian. Would that they could leave off punning! for I love every soul of them with a cordial affection, warm as their own generous hearts, and boundless as their hospitality. During the performance, I kept an eye on the coun- tenance of my friend the Cockney—because having come all the way from England, and having seen Kemble once, on a visit which he made from the button 102 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS manufactory to Lunnun, I thought his phiz might serve as a kind of thermometer to direct my manifestations of applause or disapprobation.—I might as well have looked at the back of his head; for I could not, with all my peering, perceive by his features that he was pleased with any thing—except himself. His hat was twitched a little on one side, as much as to say, “¢ demme, I’m your sorts!” he was sucking the end of a little stick; he was “‘ gemman” from head to foot ; but as to his face, there was no more expression in it than im the face of a Chinese lady on a teacup. On Cooper’s giving one of his gunpowder explosions of passion, I exclaimed, “ fine, very fine!” “ Pardon me,” said my friend ’Sbidlikens, “ this is damnable! — the gesture, my dear sir, only look at the gesture! how horrible! Do you not observe that the actor slaps his forehead, whereas, the passion not having arrived at the proper height, he should only have slapped his— pocket-flap?—This figure of rhetoric is a most im- portant stage trick, and the proper management of it is what peculiarly distinguishes the great actor from the mere plodding mechanical buffoon. Different de- grees of passion require different slaps, which we critics have reduced to a perfect manual, improving upon the principle adopted by Frederic of Prussia, by deciding that an actor, like a soldier, is a mere machine; as thus —the actor, for a minor burst of passion, merely slaps his pocket-hole; good!—for.a major burst, he slaps his breast ;—very good!—but for a burst maximus, he whacks away at his forehead, like ‘a brave fellow ;— this is excellent !—nothing can be finer than an exit, slapping the forehead from one end of the stage to the other.” ‘ Except,” replied I, ‘ one of those slaps on OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 103 the breast, which I have sometimes admired in some of our fat heroes and heroines, which make their whole body shake and quiver like a pyramid of jelly.” The Philadelphian had listened to this conversation with profound attention, and appeared delighted with ’Sbidlikens’ mechanical strictures ; twas natural enough in a man who chose an actor as he would a grenadier. He took the opportunity of a pause, to enter into a long conversation with my friend; and was receiving a pro- digious fund of information concerning the true mode of emphasising conjunctions, shifting scenes, snuffing candles, and making thunder and lightning, better than you can get every day from the sky, as practised at the royal theatres; —when, as ill luck would have it, they happened to run their heads full butt against a new reading.—Now this was a “ stumper,” as our old friend Paddle would say; for the Philadelphians are as mveterate new-reading hunters as the Cocknies ; and, for aught I know, as well skilled in finding them out. The Philadelphian thereupon met the Cockney on his own ground; and at it they went, like two inveterate cursatabone. ’Sbidlikens quoted Theobald, Hanmer, and a host of learned commentators, who have pinned themselves on the sleeve of Shakspeare’s immortality, and made the old bard, like General Washington in General Washington’s Life, a most diminutive figure in his own book;—his opponent chose Johnson for his bottle-holder, and thundered him forward like an ele- phant to bear down the ranks of the enemy. I was not long in discovering that these two precious judges had got hold of that unlucky passage of Shakspeare which, like a straw, has tickled and puzzled and con- founded many a somniferous buzzard of past and pre- 104 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS sent time. It was the celebrated wish of Desdemona, that Heaven had made her such a man as Othello. ’Sbidlikens insisted, that “ the gentle Desdemona” merely wished for such a man for a husband, which in all conscience was a modest wish enough, and very natural in a young lady who might possibly have had a predilection for flat noses ; like a certain philosophical great man of our day*. ‘The Philadelphian contended with all the vehemence of a member of Congress, moving the house to have “ whereas,” or “ also,” or nevertheless,” struck out of a bill, that the young lady wished Heaven had made her a man instead’ of a woman, in order that she might have an oppor- tunity of seeing the “ anthropophagi, and the men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders ;” which was a very natural wish, considering the curiosity of the sex. On being referred to, I incontinently decided in favour of the honourable member who spoke last ; imasmuch as I think it was a very foolish, and therefore very natural, wish for a young lady to make before a man she wished to marry. It was, moreover, an indi- cation of the violent inclination she felt to wear the breeches, which was afterwards, in all probability, grati- fied, if we may judge from the title of ‘ our Captain’s Captain,” given her by Cassio: a phrase which, in my opinion, indicates that Othello was, at that time, most ignominiously henpecked.—I believe my arguments staggered ’Sbidlikens himself, for he looked confound- edly queer, and said not another word on the subject. A little while after, at it he went again on another tack ; and began to find fault with Cooper’s manner of * Alluding to a penchant which Mr. Jefferson was said to entertain for an African beauty. — Edit. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 105 dying ;—“ it was not natural,” he said, for it had lately been demonstrated, by a learned doctor of physic,-that when a man is mortally stabbed, he ought to take a flying leap of at least five feet, and drop down “ dead as a salmon in a fishmonger’s basket.”-— Whenever a man, in the predicament above mentioned, departed from this fundamental rule, by falling flat down, like a log, and rolling about for two or three minutes, making speeches all the time, the said learned doctor maintained that it was owing to the waywardness of the human mind, which delighted in flying in the face of nature, and dying in defiance of all her established rules.—I replied, “ For my part, I held that every man had. a right of dying in whatever position he pleased ; and that the mode of doing it depended altogether on the peculiar character of the person going to die. A Persian could not die in peace unless he had his face turned to the east ;—a Mahometan would always choose to have his towards Mecca; a Frenchman might | prefer this mode of throwing a somerset ; but Mynheer Van Brumblebottom, the Roscius of Rotterdam, always chose to thunder down on his seat of honour whenever he received a mortal wound. Being a man of ponder- ous dimensions, this had a most electrifying effect, for the whole theatre ‘ shook like Olympus at the nod of Jove.” ‘The Philadelphian was immediately inspired with a pun, and swore that Mynheer must be great in a dying scene, since he knew how to make the most of his latter end. | It is the inveterate cry of stage-critics, that an actor does not perform the character naturally, if by chance he happens not to die exactly as they would have him. I think the exhibition of a play at Pekin would suit 106 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS them exactly; and I wish, with all my heart, they would go there and see one; nature is there imitated with the most scrupulous exactness in every trifling particular. Here an unhappy lady or gentleman, who happens unluckily to be poisoned or stabbed, is left on the stage to writhe and groan, and make faces at the audience, until the poet pleases they should die; while the honest folks of the dramatis persone, bless their hearts! all crowd round and yield most potent assist- ance, by crying and lamenting most vociferously! The audience, tender souls, pull out their white pocket handkerchiefs, wipe their eyes, blow their noses, and swear it is natural as life, while the poor actor is left to die without common christian comfort. In China, on the contrary, the first thing they do is to run for the doctor and tchoouc, or notary. ‘The audience are entertained throughout the fifth act with a learned consultation of physicians, and if the patient must die, he does it secundem artem, and always is allowed time to make his will. The celebrated Chow-Chow was the completest hand I ever saw at. killing himself; he always carried under his robe a bladder of bull’s blood, which, when he gave the mortal stab, spirted out, to the infinite delight of the audience. Not that the ladies of China are more fond of the sight of blood that those of our country ;—on the contrary, they are remarkably sensitive in this particular; and we are told by the great Linkum Fidelius, that the beautiful Ninny Consequa, one of the ladies of the emperor's seraglio, once fainted away on seeing a favourite slave’s nose bleed; since which time refinement has been carried to such a pitch, that a buskined hero is not allowed to run himself through the body in the face OF LAUNCELOT. LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 107 of the audience. ‘The immortal Chow-Chow, in con- formity to this absurd prejudice, whenever he plays the part of Othello, which is reckoned his masterpiece, always keeps a bold front, stabs himself slily behind, and is dead before any body suspects that he has given the mortal blow. P.S.—Just as this was going to press, I was in- formed by Evergreen that Othello had not been per- formed. here the Lord knows when :—no matter; I am not the first that has criticised a play without seeing it; and this critique will answer for the last perform- ance, even though that were a dozen years since. 108 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. VII.—SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 1807. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, T'o Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. I promisep in a former letter, good Asem, that I would furnish thee with a few hints respecting the na- ture of the government by which I am held in durance. Though my inquiries for that purpose have been in- dustrious, yet I am not perfectly satisfied with their results; for thou mayest easily imagine that the vision of a captive is overshadowed by the mists of illusion and prejudice, and the horizon of his speculations must be limited indeed. I find that the people of this country are strangely at a loss to determine the nature and proper character of their government: even their dervises are extremely in the dark as to this particular, and are continually indulging in the most preposterous disquisitions on the subject! Some have insisted that it savours of an aristocracy ; others maintain that it is a pure democracy ; and a third set of theorists declare absolutely that it is nothing more nor less than a mobocracy. The latter, I must confess, though still wide in error, have come nearest to the truth. You, of course, must understand the meaning of these different words, as they are derived from the ancient Greek language, and bespeak loudly the verbal poverty of these poor infidels, who cannot utter a learned phrase without laying the dead languages under contribution. A man, my dear Asem, who talks good sense in his OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 109 native tongue, is held in tolerable estimation in this country: but a fool, who clothes his feeble ideas in a foreign or antique garb, is bowed down to as a literary prodigy. While I conversed with these people in plain English, I was but little attended to; but the moment I prosed away in Greek, every one looked up to me with veneration as an oracle. Although the dervises differ widely in the particulars above-mentioned, yet they all agree in terming their government one of the most pacific in the known world. I cannot help pitying their ignorance, and smiling, at times, to see into what ridiculous errors those nations will wander who are unenlightened by the precepts of Mahomet, our divine Prophet, and uninstructed by the five hundred and forty-nine books of wisdom of the immortal Ibrahim Hassan al Fusti. To call this na- tion pacific! Most preposterous! It reminds me of the title assumed by the Sheik of that murderous tribe of wild Arabs that desolates the valleys of Belsaden, — who styles himself ‘‘ Star of Courtesy—Beam of the Mercy Seat !” The simple truth of the matter is, that these people are totally ignorant of their own true character; for, according to the best of my observation, they are the most warlike, and, I must say, the most savage nation that I have as yet discovered among all the barbarians. They are not only at war, in their own way, with almost every nation on earth, but they are at the same time engaged in the most complicated knot of civil wars that ever infested any poor unhappy country on which Allah has denounced his malediction ! To let thee at once into a secret, which is unknown to these people themselves, their government is a pure, 110 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS unadulterated logocracy, or government of words. The whole nation does every thing viva voce, or by word of mouth; and in this manner is one of the most military nations m existence.—LEvery man who has what is here called the gift of the gab, that is, a plentiful stock of verbosity, becomes a soldier outright, and is for ever in a militant state. The country is entirely defended, ve et lingud—that is to say, by force of tongues. ‘The account which I lately wrote to our friend the snorer, respecting the immense army of six hundred men, makes nothing against this observation ; that formidable body bemg kept up, as I have already observed, only to amuse their fair countrywomen by their splendid appearance and nodding plumes, and they are, by way of distinction, denominated the ‘“* defenders of the fair.” In a logocracy, thou must know, there is little or no occasion for fire-arms, or any such destructive weapons. Every offensive or defensive measure is en- forced by wordy battle and paper war ;—he who has the longest tongue or readiest quill is sure to gain the victory: will carry horror, abuse, and inkshed, into the very trenches of the enemy, and, without mercy or remorse, put men, women, and children, to the point of the—pen ! There is still preserved in this country some remains of that Gothic spirit of knight-errantry which so much annoyed the faithful in the middle ages of the Hegira. As, notwithstanding their martial disposition, they are a people much given to commerce and agriculture, and must, necessarily, at certain seasons be engaged in these employments, they have accommodated them- selves by appointing knights, or constant warriors, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, Esa. 111 incessant brawlers, similar to those who, in former ages, swore eternal enmity to the followers of our divine Prophet.—These knights, denominated editors, or slang-whangers, are appointed in every town, village, and district, to carry on both foreign and internal war- fare, and may be said to keep up a constant firing “in words.” O! my friend, could you but witness the enormities sometimes committed by these tremendous slang-whangers, your very turban would rise with horror and astonishment. I have seen them extend their ravages even into the kitchens of their opponents, and annihilate the very cook with a blast; and I do assure thee, I beheld one of these warriors attack a most venerable Bashaw, and at one stroke of his pen lay him open from the waistband of his breeches to his’ chin ! 3 There has been a civil war carrying on with great violence for some time past, in consequence of a con- spiracy, among the higher classes, to dethrone his Highness the present Bashaw, and place another in his stead. I was mistaken when I formerly asserted to thee that this disaffection arose from his wearing red breeches. It is true the nation have long held that colour in great detestation, in consequence of a dispute they had some twenty years since with the barbarians of the British Islands. The colour, however, is again rising into favour, as the ladies have transferred it to their heads from the Bashaw’s body. 'The true reason, I am told, is, that the Bashaw absolutely refuses to believe in the Deluge, and in the story of Balaam’s ass; maintaining that this animal was never yet per- mitted to talk except in a genume logocracy, where, it is true, his voice may often be heard, and is listened to 112 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS with reverence, as “ the voice of the sovereign people.” Nay, so far did he carry his obstinacy, that he absolutely invited a professed Antediluvian from the Gallic Em- pire, who illuminated the whole country with his prin- ciples—and his nose*. This was enough to set the nation in a blaze;—every slang-whanger resorted. to his tongue or his pen; and for seven years have they carried on a most inhuman war, in which volumes of words have been expended, oceans of ink have been shed; nor has any mercy been shown to age, sex, or condition. Every day have these slang-whangers made furious attacks on each other, and upon their respective adherents—discharging their heavy artillery, consisting of large sheets, loaded with scoundrel! villain! liar! rascal! numskull! nincompoop! dunderhead! wise- acre! blockhead! jackass!—and I do swear, by my beard, though I know thou wilt scarcely credit me, that in some of these skirmishes the Grand Bashaw himself has been wofully pelted! yea most ignomini- ously pelted !—and yet have these talking desperadoes escaped without the bastinado ! Every now and then, a slang-whanger who has a longer head, or rather a longer tongue than the rest, will elevate his piece and discharge a shot quite across the ocean, levelled at the head of the Emperor of France, the King of England, or, wouldst thou believe it, O Asem, even at his Sublime Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli! These long pieces are loaded with single ball, or langridge, as tyrant! usurper! robber! tiger! monster! and thou mayest well suppose they occasion * A gentle reproof directed against Mr. Jefferson for the indiscretion he committed in inviting Paine to America, and openly taking him under his protection.— Edit. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 115 great distress and dismay in the camps of the enemy, and are marvellously annoying to the crowned heads at which they are directed. The slang-whanger, though perhaps the mere champion of a village, having fired off his shot, struts about with great self-congratulation, chuckling at the prodigious bustle he must have oc- casioned, and seems to ask of every stranger, “‘ Well, sir, what do they think of me in Europe*?” This is sufficient to show you the manner in which these bloody or rather windy fellows fight: it is the only mode allowable in a logocracy, or government of words. I would also observe that the civil wars have a thousand ramifications. While the fury of the battle rages in the metropolis, every little town and village has a distinct broil, grow- ing like excrescences out of the grand national alterca- tion, or rather agitating within it, like those complicated pieces of mechanism where there 1s a ‘ wheel within a wheel.” But in nothing is the verbose nature of this govern- * Note by W. Wizard, Esq. The sage Mustapha, when he wrote the above paragraph, had pro- bably in his eye the following anecdote—-related either by Linkum Fide- lius, or Josephus Millerius, vulgarly called Joe Miller, of facetious me- mory :—The captain of a slave-vessel, on his first landing on the coast of Guinea, observed, under a palm-tree, a negro chief, sitting most majes- tically on a stump, while two women, with wooden spoons, were admi- nistering his favourite pottage of boiled rice, which, as his Imperial Ma- jesty was a little greedy, would part of it escape the place of destination, and run down his chin: the watchful attendants were particularly careful to intercept these scape-grace particles, and return them to their proper port of entry. As the captain approached, in order to admire this curious exhibition of royalty, the great chief clapped his hands to his sides, and saluted his visitor with the following pompous question :—‘ Well, sir! what do they say of me in England ?”’ 114 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS ment more evident than in its grand national Divan, or Congress, where the laws are framed.—This is a blustering, windy assembly, where every thing is carried by noise, tumult, and debate; for thou must know that the members of this assembly do not meet together to find wisdom in the multitude of counsellors, but to wrangle, call each other hard names, and hear them- selves talk. When the Congress opens, the Bashaw first sends them a long message, 7. ¢. a huge mass of words—vox et preterea nihil, all meaning nothing; because it only tells them what they perfectly know already. ‘Then the whole assembly are thrown into a ferment, and have a long talk about the quantity of words that are to be returned in answer to this message; and here arise many disputes about the correction and alteration of “if so be’s,” and ‘* howsoevers.” A month, perhaps, 1s spent in thus determining the precise number of words the answer shall contain; and then another, most probably, in concluding whether it shall be. carried to the Bashaw on foot, on horseback, or in coaches. Having settled this weighty matter, they next fall to work upon the message itself, and hold as much chattering over it as so many magpies over an addled ege. This done, they divide the message into small portions, and deliver them into the hands of little juntos of talkers, called committees; these juntos have each a world of talking about their respective para- graphs, and return the results to the Grand Divan, which forthwith falls to and re-talks the matter over more earnestly than ever. Now after all, it is an even chance that the subject of this prodigious arguing, quarrelling, and talking, is an affair of no importance, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 115 and ends entirely in smoke. May it not then be said, the whole nation have been talking to no purpose ? The people, in fact, seem to be somewhat conscious of this propensity to talk, by which they are characterized, and have a favourite proverb on the subject, viz, “all talk and no cider :” this is particularly applied when. their Congress, or assembly of all the sage chatterers of the nation, have chattered through a whole session, in a time of great peril and momentous event, and have done nothing but exhibit the length of their tongues and the emptiness of their heads. ‘This has been the case more than once, my friend; and to let thee into a secret, I have been told in confidence that there have been absolutely several old women smuggled into Con- gress from different parts of the empire, who, having once got on the breeches, as thou mayest well imagine, have taken the lead in debate, and overwhelmed the whole assembly with their garrulity !—For my part, as times go, I do not see why old women should not be as eligible to public councils as old men who possess their dispositions; they certainly are eminently pos- sessed of the qualifications requisite to govern in a logocracy. 3 Nothing, as I have repeatedly insisted, can be done in this country without talking; but they take so long to talk over a measure, that by the time they have determined upon adopting it, the period has elapsed which was proper for carrying it into effect. Unhappy nation ! thus torn to pieces by intestine talks! never, I fear, will it be restored to tranquillity and silence. Words are but breath; breath is but air; and air put into motion is nothing but wind. This vast empire, therefore, may be compared to nothing more nor less 12 116 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS than a mighty windmill, and the orators, and the chat- terers, and the slang-whangers, are the breezes that put it in motion: unluckily, however, they are apt to blow different ways; and their blasts counteracting each other, the mill is perplexed, the wheels stand still, the grist is unground, and the miller and his family starved. Every thing partakes of the windy nature of the government. In case of any domestic grievance, or an insult from a foreign foe, the people are all in a buzz;—town-meetings are immediately held, where the quidnuncs of the city repair, each like an Atlas with . the cares of the whole nation upon his shoulders, each resolutely bent upon saving his country, and each swelling and strutting hke a turkey-cock, puffed up with words, and wind, and nonsense.—After bustling, and buzzing, and bawling for some time, and after each man has shown himself to be indubitably the greatest personage in the meeting, they pass a string of resolutions, 2. €. words which were previously pre- pared for the purpose. These resolutions are whim- sically denominated the sense. of the meeting, and are sent off for the instruction of the reigning Bashaw, who receives them graciously, puts them into his red breeches pocket, forgets to read them—and so the matter ends. | As to his. Highness the present Bashaw, who is at the very top of the logocracy, never was a dignitary better qualified for his station. He is’a man of super- lative ventosity, and comparable to nothing but a huge bladder of wind. He talks of vanquishing all op- position by the force of reason and philosophy; throws his gauntlet at all the nations of the earth, and defies OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 117 them to meet him—on the field of argument !—Is the national dignity insulted, a case in which his highness of Tripoli would immediately call forth his forces ;— the bashaw of America—utters a speech. Does a foreign invader molest the commerce in the very mouth of the harbours—an insult which would induce his highness of Tripoli to order out his fleets ;—his high- ness of America—utters a speech. Are the free citi- zens of America dragged from on board the vessels of their country, and forcibly detained in the war ships of another power ;—his highness—utters a speech. Is a peaceable citizen killed by the marauders of a foreign power, on the very shores of his country ;—his high- ness—utters a speech !— Does an alarming insurrection break out in a distant part of the empire ;—his high- ness—utters a speech !—Nay, more, for here he shows his “energies ;"—he most intrepidly despatches a courier on horseback, and orders him to ride one hun- dred and twenty miles a day, with a most formidable army of proclamations, 7. e. a collection of words, packed up in his saddle-bags. He is instructed to show no favour nor affection; but to charge the thickest ranks of the enemy, and to speechify and batter by words the conspiracy and the conspirators out of existence. Heavens, my friend, what a deal of blustering is here! It reminds me of a dunghill cock in a farm-yard, who, having accidentally in his scratch- ings found a worm, immediately begins a most voci- ferous cackling—calls around him his hen-hearted companions, who run chattering from all quarters to gobble up the poor little worm that happened to turn under his eye. Oh, Asem, Asem! on what a pro- digious great scale is every thing in this country! 118 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Thus, then, I conclude my observations. The in- fidel nations have each a separate characteristic trait, by which they may be distinguished from each other : —the Spaniards, for instance, may be said to sleep upon every affair of importance ;—the Italians to fiddle upon every thing ;—the French to dance upon every thing; —the Germans to smoke upon every thing ;—the British Islanders to eat upon every thing ;—and the windy subjects of the American logocracy to talk upon every thing. ‘ % Ever thine, MusTAPHaA. FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. How oft in musing mood my heart recalls, From gray-beard father Time’s oblivious halls, The modes and maxims of my early day, Long in those dark recesses stow’d away ; ‘ Drags once more to the cheerful realms of light Those buckram fashions, long since lost in night, And makes, like Endor’s witch, once more to rise My grogram grandames to my raptured eyes ! Slfades of my fathers! in your pasteboard skirts, Your broider’d waistcoats and your plaited shirts, Your formal bag-wigs—wide-extended cuffs, Your five inch chitterlings and nine inch ruffs ! Gods ! how ye strut, at times, in all your state, Amid the visions of my thoughtful pate ! I see ye move the solemn minuet o’er, The modest foot scarce rising from the floor ; No thundering rigadoon with boisterous prance, No pigeon-wing disturb your contre-danse. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 119 But silent as the gentle Lethe’s tide, Adown the festive maze ye peaceful glide ! Still in my mental eye each dame appears— Each modest beauty of departed years ; Close by mamma I see her stately march, Or sit, in all the majesty of starch ; When for the dance a stranger seeks her hand, I see her doubting, hesitating, stand ; Yield to his claim with most fastidious grace, And sigh for her intended in his place ! Ah! golden days! when every gentle fair On sacred Sabbath conn’d with pious care Her Holy Bible, or her prayer-book o’er, Or studied honest Bunyan’s drowsy lore: Travell’d with him the Pilgrim’s Progress through, And storm’d the famous town of Man-Soul too; Beat Eye and Ear-gate up with thundering jar, And fought triumphant through the Holy War: Or if, perchance, to lighter works inclined, They sought with novels to relax the mind, "T'was Grandison’s politely formal page, Or Clelia or Pamela were the rage. No plays were then—theatrics were unknown,— A learned pig—a dancing monkey shown— The feats of Punch—a cunning juggler’s sleight, Were sure to fill each bosom with delight. An honest, simple, humdrum race we were, Undazzled yet by fashion’s wildering glare ; Our manners unreserved, devoid of guile, We knew not then the modern monster style : Style, that with pride each empty bosom swells, Puffs boys to manhood, little girls to belles. Scarce from the nursery freed, our gentle fair Are yielded to the dancing-master’s care ; 120 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS And ere the head one mite of sense can gain, Are introduced ’mid folly’s frippery train. A stranger's grasp uo longer gives alarms, Our fair surrender to their very arms, And in the insidious waltz (1) will swim and twine, And whirl! and languish tenderly divine ! Oh! how I hate this loving, hugging dance ; This imp of Germany—brought up in France. Nor can I see a niece its windings trace, But all the honest blood glows in my face. “Sad, sad refinement this,” I often say, “«°Tis modesty indeed refined away! “ Let France its whim, its sparkling wit supply, ‘‘ The easy grace that captivates the eye ; “* But curse their waltz—their loose lascivious arts, “That smooth our manners, to corrupt our hearts !”’ (2) Where now those books from which, in days of yore, Our mothers gain’d their literary store ? Alas! stiff-skirted Grandison gives place To novels of a new and rakish race; And honest Bunyan’s pious dreaming lore, To the lascivious rhapsodies of Moore. ~ And, last of all, behold the mimic stage Its morals lend to polish off the age, With flimsy farce, a comedy miscall’d, Garnish’d with vulgar cant, and proverbs bald, With puns most puny, and a plenteous store Of ribald jokes, to catch a gallery roar. Or see, more fatal, graced with every art To charm and captivate the female heart, The false, * the gallant, gay Lothario” smiles, (3) And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles ;— In glowing colours paints Calista’s wrongs, And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 12] When Cooper lends his fascinating powers, Decks vice itself in bright alluring flowers, Pleased with his manly grace, his youthful fire, Our fair are lured the villain to admire; While humbler virtue, like a stalking horse, Struts clumsily and croaks in honest Morse. Ah, hapless day! when trials thus combined, In pleasing garb assail the female mind ; When every smooth insidious snare is spread To sap the morals and delude the head ; Not Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, To prove their faith and virtue here below, Could more an angel's helping hand require To guide their steps uninjured through the fire, Where had but Heaven its guardian aid denied, The holy trio in the proof had died. If, then, their manly vigour sought supplies From the bright stranger in celestial guise, Alas! can we from feebler natures claim To brave seduction’s ordeal free from blame ; To pass through fire unhurt like golden ore, Though angel missions bless the earth no more ! Notes, by William Wizard, Esq. (1) Waltz.—As many of the retired matrons of this city, unskilled in *¢ gestic lore,” are doubtless ignorant of the movements and figures of this modest exhibition, I will endeavour to give some account of it, in order that they may learn what odd capers their daughters sometimes cut when from under their guardian wings.—On a signal being given by the music, the gentleman seizes the lady round her waist; the lady, scorning to be outdone in courtesy, very politely takes the gentleman round the neck, with one arm resting against his shoulder to prevent encroachments. Away then they go, about, and about, and about—‘ A bout what, sir ?””— About the room, madam, to be sure. The whole economy of this dance consists in turning round and round the room in a certain measured step ; 122 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS and it is truly astonishing that this continued revolution does not set all their heads swimming like a top; but I have been positively assured that it only occasions a gentle sensation which is marvellously agreeable. In the course of this circumnavigation, the dancers, in order to give the charm of variety, are continually changing their relative situations :—now the gentleman, meaning no harm in the world, I assure you, madam, carelessly flings his arm about the lady’s neck, with an air of celestial impudence ; and anon, the lady, meaning as little harm as the gentleman, takes him round the waist with most ingenuous modest languishment, to the great delight of numerous spectators and amateurs, who generally form a ring, as the mob do about a pair of amazons pulling caps, or a couple of fighting mastiffs.—After continuing this divine interchange of hands, arms, et cetera, for half an hour or so, the lady begins to tire, and with ‘‘ eyes upraised,”” in most bewitching languor petitions her partner for a little more support. This is always given without hesitation. The lady leans gently on his shoulder: their arms intwine in a thousand se- ducing mischievous curves—don’t be alarmed, madam—closer and closer they approach each other, and, in conclusion, the parties being overcome with ecstatic fatigue, the lady seems almost sinking into the gentleman’s *¢ Well, sir! what then?’—Lord! madam, how arms, and then should I know? (2) My friend Pindar, and in fact our whole junto, has been accused of an unreasonable hostility to the French nation ; and I am informed by a Parisian correspondent that our first number played the very devil in the court of St. Cloud. His Imperial Majesty got into a most outrageous passion, and being withal a waspish little gentleman, had nearly kicked his bosom friend, Talleyrand, out of the cabinet, in the paroxysms of his wrath. He insisted upon it that the nation was assailed in its most vital part—being, like Achilles, extremely sensitive to any attacks upon the heel. When my correspondent sent off his despatches, it was still in doubt what measures would be adopted; but it was strongly suspected that vehement representations would be made to our government. Willing, therefore, to save our executive from any embarrassment on the subject, and above all, from the disagreeable alternative of sending an apology by the Hornet, we do assure Mr. Jefferson, that there is nothing farther from our thoughts than the subversion of the Gallic Empire, or any attack on the interest, tranquillity, or reputation of the nation at large, which we seriously declare possesses the highest rank in our estimation. Nothing less than the national welfare could have induced us to trouble ourselves with this explanation; and in the name of the junto I once more declare, that when we roast a Frenchman, we merely mean one of those inconnus, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 123 who swarmed to this country, from the kitchens and barbers’ shops of Nantz, Bourdeaux, and Marseilles; played the game of leap-frog at all our balls and assemblies; set this unhappy town hopping mad; and passed - themselves off on our tender-hearted damsels for unfortunate noblemen—ruined in the revolution! Such only can wince at the lash, and accuse us of severity; and we should be mortified in the extreme if they did not feel our well-intended castigation. (3) Fair Penitent.—The story of this play, if told in its native language, would exhibit a scene of guilt and shame which no modest ear could listen to without shrinking with disgust; but, arrayed as it is in all the splendour of harmonious, rich, and polished verse, it steals into the heart like some gay, luxurious, smooth-faced. villain, and betrays it insensibly to immorality and vice; our very sympathy is enlisted on the side of guilt; and the piety of Altamont, and the gentleness of Lavinia, are lost in the splendid debaucheries of the ‘‘ gallant gay Lothario,” and the blustering, hollow repentance of the fair Calista, whose sorrow reminds us of that of Pope’s Heloise—‘‘ I mourn the lover, not lament the fault.” Nothing is more easy than to banish such plays from our stage. Were our ladies, instead of crowding to see them again and again repeated, to discourage their exhibition by absence, the stage would soon be indeed the school of morality, and the number of ‘* Fair Penitents,” in all pro- bability, diminish. 124. WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIUNS NO. VIIIL.—SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1807. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. ** Jn all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Thou ’rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow ; Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee, There is no living with thee—or without thee.”’ ‘¢ NEVER, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, has there been known a more backward spring.” — This is the universal remark among the almanac quid- nuncs, and weather-wiseacres of the day; and I have heard it at least fifty-five times from old Mrs. Cockloft, who, poor woman, is one of those walking almanacs that foretell every snow, rain, or frost, by the shooting of corns, a pain in the bones, or an “ ugly stitch in the side.” I do not recollect, in the whole course of my life, to have seen the month of March indulge in such untoward capers, caprices and coquetries as it has done this year: I might have forgiven these vagaries, had they not completely knocked up my friend Lang- staff; whose feelings are ever at the mercy of a weathercock, whose spirits sink and rise with the mer- cury of a barometer, and to whom an east wind is as obnoxious as a Sicilian sivocco. He was tempted some time since, by the fineness of the weather, to dress himself with more than ordinary care and take his morning stroll; but before he had half finished his peregrination, he was utterly discomfited, and driven home by a tremendous squall of wind, hail, rain, and snow; or, as he testily termed it, ‘ a most villanous congregation of vapours.” OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 125 This was too much for the patience of friend Laun- celot; he declared he would humour the weather no longer in its whim-whams; and, according to his im- memorial custom on these occasions, retreated in high dudgeon to his elbow-chair, to lie in of the spleen and rail at nature for being so fantastical. ‘‘ Confound the jade,” he frequently exclaims, “ what a pity nature had not been of the masculine instead of the feminine gender; the almanac-makers might then have calcu- lated with some degree of certainty.” When Langstaff invests himself with the spleen, and gives audience to the blue devils from his elbow- chair, I would not advise any of his friends to come within gunshot of his citadel with the benevolent pur- pose of administering consolation or amusement; for he is then as crusty and crabbed as that famous coiner of false money Diogenes himself. Indeed his room is at such times inaccessible ; and old Pompey is the only soul that can gain admission, or ask a question with impunity: the truth is, that on these occasions there is not a straw’s difference between them, for Pompey is as glum and grim and cynical as his master. Launcelot has now been above three weeks in this desolate situation, and has therefore had but little to do in our last number. As he could not be prevailed on to give any account of himself in our introduction, I will take the opportunity of his confinement, while his back is turned, to give a slight sketch of his cha- racter ;—fertile in whim-whams and bachelorisms, but rich in many of the sterling qualities of our nature. Of the antiquity of the Langstaff family I can say but little, except that I have no doubt it is equal to that of most families who have the privilege of making 126 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS their own pedigree without the impertinent interposition of a college of heralds. My friend Launcelot is not a man to blazon any thing; but I have heard him talk with great complacency of his ancestor, Sir Rowland, who was a dashing buck in the days of Hardiknute, and broke the head of a gigantic Dane, at a game of quarter-staff, in presence of the whole court. In memory of this gallant exploit, Sir Rowland was per- mitted to take the name of Langstoffe, and to assume, as a crest to his arms, a hand grasping a cudgel. It is, however, a foible so ridiculously common in this country for people to claim consanguinity with all the great personages of their own name in Europe, that I should put but little faith in this family boast of friend Langstaff, did I not know him to be a man of most unquestionable veracity. The whole world knows already that my friend is a bachelor ; for he is, or pretends to be, exceedingly proud of his personal independence, and takes care to make it known in all companies where strangers are present. He is for ever vaunting the precious state of “ single blessedness;” and was, not long ago, con- siderably startled at a proposition of one of his great favourites, Miss Sophy Sparkle, “ that old bachelors should be taxed as luxuries.”—Launcelot immediately hied him home and wrote a tremendous long repre- sentation in their behalf, which I am resolved to pub- lish if it is ever attempted to carry the measure into operation. Whether he be sincere in these professions, or whether his present situation be owing to choice or disappointment, he only can tell; but if he ever does tell, I will suffer myself to be shot by the first lady’s eye that can twang an arrow. In his youth he was for OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 127 ever in love; but it was his misfortune to be con- tinually crossed and rivalled by his bosom friend and contemporary beau, Pindar Cockloft, Esq.; for as Langstaff never made a confidant on these occasions, his friend never knew which way his affections pointed ; and so, between them, the lady generally slipped through their fingers. It has ever been the misfortune of Launcelot, that he could not for the soul of him restrain a good thing ; and this fatality has drawn upon him the ill-will of many whom he would not have offended for the world. With the kindest heart under heaven, and the most benevolent disposition towards every beg around him, he has been continually betrayed by the mischievous vivacity of his fancy, and the good-humoured waggery of his feelings, into satirical sallies which have been treasured up by the invidious, and retailed out with the bitter sneer of malevolence, instead of the playful hilarity of countenance which originally sweetened and tempered and disarmed them of their sting. These misrepresentations have gained him many reproaches, and lost him many a friend. This unlucky characteristic played the mischief with him in one of his love affairs. He was, as I have be- fore observed, often opposed in his gallantries by that formidable rival, Pindar Cockloft, Esq., and a most formidable rival he was; for he had Apollo, the Nine Muses, together with all the joint tenants of Olympus: to back him; and every body knows what important confederates they are to a lover.—Poor Launcelot stood no chance :—the lady was served up in the poet’s corner of every weekly paper; and at length Pindar attacked her with a sonnet that took up a whole co- 128 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS lumn, in which -he enumerated at least a dozen cardinal virtues, together with innumerable others of inferior consideration.— Launcelot saw his case was desperate, and that unless he sat down forthwith, be-cherubimed and be-angeled her to the skies, and put every virtue under the sun in requisition, he might as well go hang himself, and so make an end of the business. At it, therefore, he went; and was going on very swimmingly, for, in the space of a dozen lines, he had enlisted under her command at least threescore and ten substantial house-keeping virtues, when unluckily for Launcelot’s reputation as a poet, and the lady’s as a saint, one of those confounded good thoughts struck his laughter- loving brain ;—it was irresistible—away he went, full sweep before the wind, cutting and slashing, and tickled to death with his own fun; the consequence was, that by the time he had finished, never was poor lady so ludicrously lampooned since lampooning came into fashion. But this was not half;—so hugely was Launcelot pleaséd with this frolic of his wits, that nothing would do but he must show it to the lady, who, as well she might be, was mortally offended, and forbad him her presence. My friend was in despair, but, through the imterference of his generous rival, was permitted to make his apology, which turned out worse than the original offence; for though he had studied an eloquent compliment, yet as ill-luck would have it, a preposterous whim-wham knocked at his pericranium, and imspired him to say some consum- mate good things, which all put together amounted to a downright hoax, and provoked the lady’s wrath to such a degree, that sentence of eternal banishment was awarded against him. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 129 Launcelot was inconsolable, and determined, in the true style of novel heroics, to make the tour of Europe, and endeavour to lose the recollection of this misfor- tune amongst the gaieties of France, and the classic charms of Italy: he accordingly took passage in a vessel, and pursued his voyage prosperously as far as Sandy-Hook, where he was seized with a violent fit of sea-sickness; at which he was so affronted, that he put his portmanteau into the first pilot-boat, and returned to town, completely cured of his love and his rage for travelling. I pass over the subsequent amours of my friend Langstaff, being but little acquainted with them ;— for, as I have already mentioned, he never was known to make a confidant of any body. He always affirmed aman must be a fool to fall in love, but an idiot to boast of it ;—ever denominated it the villanous passion ; lamented that it could not be cudgelled out of the hu- man heart ;—and yet could no more live without being in love with somebody or other than he could without whim-whams. 2 My friend Launcelot is a man of excessive irritability of nerve, and I am acquainted with no one so sus- ceptible of the petty ‘‘ miseries of human life ;” yet its keener evils and misfortunes he bears without shrink- ing, and however they may prey in secret on his hap- piness, he never complains. This was strikingly evinced in an affair where his heart was deeply and irrevocably concerned, and in which his success was ruined by one for whom he had long cherished a warm friendship. The circumstance cut poor Langstaff to the very soul ; he was not seen'in company for months afterwards, and for a long time he seemed to retire within himself, ast "4 PA ft 130 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS and battle with the poignancy of his feelings; but not a murmur or a reproach was heard to fall from his lips, though at the mention of his friend’s name, a shade of melancholy might be observed stealing across his face, and his voice assumed a touching tone, that seemed to say, he remembered his treachery ‘‘ more in sorrow than in anger.” ‘This affair has given a slight tinge of sadness to his disposition, which, however, does not prevent his entering into the amusements of the world; the only effect it occasions is, that you may occasionally observe him, at the end of a’lively conversation, sink for a few minutes into an apparent forgetfulness of surrounding objects, during which time he seems to be indulging in some melancholy retrospection. Langstaff inherited from his father a love of litera- ture, a disposition for castle building, a mortal enmity to noise, a sovereign antipathy to cold weather and brooms, and a plentiful stock of whim-whams. From the delicacy of his nerves, he is peculiarly sensible to discordant sounds: the rattling of a wheelbarrow is ‘* horrible ;” the noise ‘of children “ drives him dis- tracted ;” and he once left excellent lodgings merely because the lady of the house wore high-heeled shoes, in which she clattered up and down stairs, till, to use his own emphatic expression, “ they made life loath- some” to him. He suffers annual martyrdom from the razor-edged zephyrs of our “ balmy spring,” and so- lemnly declares that the boasted month of May has become a perfect “‘ vagabond.” As some people have a great antipathy to cats, and can tell when one is locked up in a closet, so Launcelot declares his feelings always announce to him the neighbourhood of a broom, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. tol a household implement which he abominates above all others. Nor is there any living animal in the world that he holds in more utter abhorrence than what is usually termed a notable housewife ; a pestilent being, who, he protests, is the bane of good fellowship, and has a heavy charge to answer for the many offences committed against the ease, comfort, and social enjoy- ments of sovereign man. He told me, not long ago, *< that he had rather see one of the weird sisters flourish through his key-hole on a broom-stick than one of the servant maids enter the door with a besom.” My friend Launcelot is ardent and sincere in his at- tachments, which are confined to a chosen few, in whose society he loves to give free scope to his whimsical ima- gination; he mingles freely with the world, however, though more as a spectator than an actor, and without an anxiety, or hardly a care to please, is generally re- ceived with welcome, and listened to with complacency. When he extends his hand, it is in a free, open, liberal style; and when you shake it, you feel his honest heart throb in its pulsations. Though rather fond of gay exhi- bitions, he does not appear so frequently at balls and assemblies since the introduction of the drum, trumpet, and tambourin ; all of which he abhors on account of the rude attacks they make on his organs of hearing :— in short, such is his antipathy to noise, that though exceedingly patriotic, yet he retreats every fourth of July to Cockloft Hall, in order to get out of the way of the hubbub and confusion which make so con- siderable a part of the pleasure of that splendid anni- versary. I intend this article as a mere sketch of Langstaff’s multifarious character ; his innumerable whim-whams feed te? 132 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS will be exhibited by himself, in the course of this work, in all their strange varieties ; and the machinery of his mind, more intricate than in the most subtle piece of clock-work, be fully explained.—And trust me, gentle- folk, his are the whim-whams of a courteous gentleman full of most excellent qualities; honourable in ‘his disposition, independent in his sentiments, and of un- bounded good nature, as may be seen through all his works. | ON STYLE. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. Style, a manner of writing; title; pin of a dial; the . pistil of plants. Johnson. Style, is.....style. Link. Fid. Now I would not give a straw for either of the above definitions, though I think the latter is by far the most satisfactory; and I do wish sincerely every modern numskull, who takes hold of a subject he knows nothing about, would adopt honest Linkum’s mode of explanation. Blair’s Lectures on this article have not thrown a whit more light on the subject: of my inquiries ;—they puzzled me just as much as did the learned and laborious expositions and. illustrations of the worthy professor of our college, in the middle of which I generally had the ill luck to fall asleep. This same word style, though but a diminutive word, assumes to itself more contradictions, and sig- nifications, and. eccentricities, than any monosyllable in the language is legitimately entitled to. It is an arrant OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 1393 little humorist of a word, and full of whim-whams, which occasions me to like it hugely; but it puzzled me most wickedly on my first return from a long re- sidence abroad, having crept into fashionable use during my absence; and had it not been for friend Evergreen, and that thrifty sprig of knowledge, Jeremy Cockloft the younger, I should have remained to this day ig- norant of its meaning. Though it would seem that the pdople of all countries are equally vehement in the pursuit of this phantom, style, yet in almost all of them there is a strange di- versity of opinion’ as to what constitutes its essence ; and every different class, like the pagan nations, adore it under a different form. In England, for instance, an honest cit packs up himself, his family, and his style in a buggy or tim whisky, and rattles away on Sunday | with his fair partner blooming beside him, like an Eastern bride, and two chubby children, squatting like Chinese images at his feet. A Baronet requires a chariot and pair ;—an Earl must needs have a barouche and four ;—but a Duke—oh ! a Duke cannot possibly lumber his style along under a coach and six, and half a score of footmen into the bargain. In China a puissant mandarin loads at least three elephants with style; and an overgrown sheep at the Cape of Good Hope trails along his tail and his style on a wheel- barrow. In Egypt, or at Constantinople, style consists in the quantity of fur and fine clothes a lady can put on without danger of suffocation : here it is otherwise, and consists in the quantity she can put off without the risk of freezing. A Chinese ‘lady is thought pro- digal of her charms if she exposes the tip of her nose, er the ends of her fingers, to the ardent gaze of by- 134 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS standers; and I recollect that all Canton was in a buzz in consequence of the great belle Miss Nangfous peep- ing out of the window with her face uncovered! Here the style is to show not only the face, but the neck, shoulders, &c.; and a lady never presumes to hide them except when she is not at home, and not suf- ficiently undressed to see company. This style has ruined the peace and harmony of many a worthy household; for no sooner do they set up for style, but instantly all the honest old comfortable sans ceremonie furniture is discarded ; and you stalk cautiously about, amongst the uncomfortable splendour of Grecian chairs, Egyptian tables, Turkey carpets, and Etruscan vases. ‘This vast improvement in furni- ture demands an increase in the domestic establishment; and a family that once required two or three servants for convenience, now employ half a dozen for style. Bell-Brazen, late favourite of my unfortunate friend Dessalines, was one of these patterns of style; and whatever freak she was seized with, however preposter- ous, was implicitly followed by all who would be con- sidered as admitted in the stylish arcana.—She was once seized with a whim-wham that tickled the whole court. She could not lie down to take an afternoon’s loll, but she must have one servant to scratch her head, two to tickle her feet, and a fourth to fan her delectable person while she slumbered. The thing took ;—it became the rage, and not a sable belle in all Hayti but what insisted upon being fanned, and scratched, and tickled in the true imperial style. Sneer not at this picture, my most excellent townsmen! for who among you but are daily following fashions equally absurd ? Style, according to Evergreen’s account, consists in OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 135 certain fashions, or certain eccentricities, or certain manners of certain people, in certain situations, and possessed of a certain share of fashion or importance. A red cloak, for instance, on the shoulders of an old market-woman is regarded with contempt; it is vulgar, it is odious :—fling, however, its usurping rival, a red shawl, over the figure of a fashionable belle, and let her flame away with it in Broadway, or in a ball room, and it is immediately declared to be the style. The modes of attaining this certain situation, which entitles its holder to style, are various and opposite: the most ostensible is the attamment of wealth; the possession of which changes, at once, the pert airs of vulgar ignorance into fashionable ease and elegant vivacity. It is highly amusing to observe the gradation of a family aspiring to style, and the devious windings they pursue in order to attain it. While beating up against wind and tide, they are the most complaisant beings in the world; they keep “ booing and booing,” as M‘Sycophant says, until you would suppose them incapable of standing upright; they kiss their hands to every body who has the least claim to style; their familiarity is imtolerable, and they absolutely overwhelm you with their friendship and loving kindness. But having once gained the envied pre-eminence, never were beings in the world more changed. 'They assume the most intolerable caprices; at one time address you with importunate sociability ; at another, pass you by with silent indifference ; sometimes sit up in their chairs in all the majesty of dignified silence; and at another time bounce about with all the obstreperous ill-bred noise of a little hoyden just broke loose from a board- in-school, | 136 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Another feature which distinguishes these new-made fashionables is the inveteracy with which they look down upon the honest people who are struggling to climb up to the same envied height. They never fail to salute them with the most sarcastic reflections; and like so many worthy hodmen, clambering a ladder, each one looks down upon his next neighbour below, and makes no scruple of shaking the dust off his shoes into his eyes. Thus by dint of perseverance merely, they come to be considered as established denizens of the great world; as m some barbarous nations an oyster-shell is of sterling value, and a copper-washed counter will pass current for genuine gold. — In no instance have I seen this grasping after style more whimsically exhibited than in the family of my old acquaintance Timothy Giblet. I recollect old Giblet when I was a boy, and he was the most surly curmudgeon I ever knew. He was a perfect scare- crow to the small-fry of the day, and inherited the hatred of all these unlucky little urchins; for never could we assemble about his door of an evening to play, and make a little hubbub, but out he sallied from his nest like a spider, flourished his formidable horsewhip, and dispersed the whole crew in the twinkling of a lamp. I perfectly remember a bill he sent in to my father for a pane of glass I had accidentally broken, which came well nigh getting me a sound flogging ; and I remember, as perfectly, that the next night I revenged myself by breaking half a dozen. Giblet was as arrant a grub-worm as ever crawled; and the only rules of right and wrong he cared a button for were the rules of multiplication and addition; which he practised much more successfully than he did any OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 137 of the rules of religion or morality. He used to declare they were the true golden rules; and he took special care to put Cocker’s arithmetic im the hands of his children, before they had read ten pages in the bible or the prayer-book. The practice of these favourite maxims was at length crowned with the harvest of success! and after a life of incessant self-denial, and starvation, and after enduring all the pounds, shillings and pence miseries of a miser, he had the satisfaction of seeing himself worth a plum, and of dying, just as he had determined to enjoy the remainder of his days m contemplating his great wealth and accumulating mortgages. His children inherited his money; but they buried the disposition, and every other memorial of their father in his grave. Fired with a noble thirst for style, they instantly emerged from the retired lane in which them- selves and their accomplishments had hitherto been buried; and they blazed, and they whizzed, and they cracked about town, like a nest of squibs and devils in a firework. 'Their sudden éclat may be likened to that of the locust, which is hatched in the dust, where it increases and swells up to maturity, and after feel- ing for a moment the vivifying rays of the sun, bursts forth a mighty insect, and flutters and rattles, and buzzes from every tree. The little warblers, who have long cheered the woodlands with their dulcet notes, are stunned by the discordant racket of this upstart intruder, and contemplate,: in contemptuous silence, its bustle and its noise. Having once started, the Giblets were determined ‘that nothing should stop them in their career, until they had run their full course and arrived at the very 138 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS tip-top of style. Every tailor, every shoemaker, every coachmaker, every milliner, every mantua-maker, every paper-hanger, every piano-teacher, and every dancing- master in the city, were enlisted in their service; and the willing wights most courteously answered their call, and fell to work to build up the fame of the Giblets, as they had done that of many an aspiring family before them. Ina little time the young ladies could dance the waltz, thunder Lodoiska, murder French, kill time, and commit violence on the face of nature ina landscape in water-colours, equal to the best lady in the land; and the young gentlemen were seen lounging at corners of streets, and driving tandem ; heard talking aloud at the theatre, and laughing in church, with as much ease and grace, and modesty, as if they had been gentlemen all the days of their lives. 7 And the Giblets arrayed themselves in scarlet, and in fine linen, and seated themselves in high places ; but nobody noticed them except to honour them with a little contempt. The Giblets made a prodigious splash, in their own opinion; but nobody extolled them except the. tailors, and the milliners, who had been employed in manufacturing their paraphernalia. The Giblets thereupon being, like Caleb Quotem, deter- mined to have “ a place at the review,” fell to work more fiercely than ever ;—they gave dinners, and they gave balls; they hired cooks, they hired confectioners; and they would have kept a newspaper in pay, had they nat been all bought up at that time for the election. They invited the dancing men, and the dancing women, and the gormandizers, and the epicures of the city, to come and make merry at their expense; and the dancing men, and the dancing women, and the epicures, and OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 139 the gormandizers, did come; and they did make merry at their expense; and they eat, and they drank, and they capered, and they danced, and they—laughed at their entertainers. Then commenced the hurry and the bustle, and the mighty nothingness of fashionable life ;—such rattling in coaches! such flaunting in the streets! such slam- ming of box-doors at the theatre! such a tempest of bustle and unmeaning noise wherever they appeared ! The Giblets were seen here and there and everywhere; —they visited every body they knew, and every body they did not know; and there was no getting along for the Giblets. _ Their plan at length succeeded. By dint of dinners, of feeding and frolicking the town, the Giblet family worked themselves into notice, and en- joyed the ineffable pleasure of bemg for ever pestered by visitors, who cared nothing about them; of being squeezed, and smothered, and parboiled at nightly balls, and evening tea-parties; they were allowed the privilege of forgetting the very few old friends they once possessed ;—they turned up their noses at every thing that was not genteel; and their superb manners - and sublime affectation at length left it no longer a matter of doubt that the Giblets were perfectly in the style. 140 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 66 Being, as it were, a small contentmente in a never contenting subjecte; a bitter pleasaunte taste of a sweete seasoned sower ; and, all in all, a more than ordinarie rejoicing, in an extraordinarie sorrow of de- lyghts!”—Lithgow. WE have been considerably edified of late by several letters of advice from a number of sage correspondents, who really seem to know more about our work than’ we do ourselves. One warns us against saying any thing more about ’Sbidlikens, who is a very particular friend of the writer, and who has a singular disinclina- tion to be laughed at. This correspondent in particular mveighs against personalities, and accuses us of ill- nature in bringing forward old Fungus and Billy Dimple, as figures of fun to amuse the public. Another gentleman, who states that he is a near relation of the Cocklofts, proses away most soporifically on the im- propriety of ridiculing a respectable old family ; and declares that if we make them and their whim-whams the subject of any more essays, he shall be under the necessity of applying to our theatrical champions for satisfaction. A third, who by the crabbedness of the hand-writing, and a few careless inaccuracies in the spelling, appears to be a lady, assures us that the Miss Cocklofts, and Miss Diana Wearwell, and Miss Dash- away, and Mrs, , Will Wizard’s quondam flame, are so much obliged to us for our notice, that they intend in future to take no notice of us at all, but leave us out of all their tea-parties; for which we make them one of our best bows, and say, “thank you, ladies.” We wish to heaven these good people would attend to their own affairs, if they have any to attend to, and Jet us alone. It is one of the most provoking things in the world, that we cannot tickle the public a little, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 141 merely for our own private amusement, but we must be crossed and jostled by these meddling incendiaries, and, in fact, have the whole town about our ears. We are much in the same situation with an unlucky blade of a Cockney, who having mounted his bit, of blood to - enjoy a little innocent recreation, and display his horse- manship along Broadway, is worried by all those little yelping curs that infest our city, and who never fail to sally out and growl, and bark, and snarl, to the great annoyance of the Birmingham equestrian. Wisely was it. said by the sage Linkum Fidelius, ‘‘howbeit, moreover, nevertheless, this thrice wicked towne is charged up to the muzzle with all manner of il-natures and uncharitablenesses, and is, moreover, exceedinglie naughtie.”. This passage of the erudite Linkum was applied to the city of Gotham, of which he was once Lord Mayor, as appears by his picture hung up in the hall of that ancient city;—but his ob- servation fits this best of all possible cities “‘ to a hair.” It is a melancholy truth that this same New-York, though the most charming, pleasant, polished, and praiseworthy city under the sun, and, in a word, the bonne bouche of the universe, is most shockingly ill- natured and sarcastic, and wickedly given to all manner of backslidings ;—for which we are very sorry indeed. In truth, for 1t must come out, like murder, one time or other, the inhabitants are not only ill-natured, but manifestly unjust: no sooner do they get one of our random sketches in their hands, but instantly they apply it most unjustifiably to some ‘dear friend,” and then accuse us of the personality which ori- ginated in their own officious friendship! ‘Truly it is an ill-natured town, and most earnestly du we hope 142 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 can- not give three good reasons for an unreasonable thing ; and will therefore condescend, as usual, to give the public three special reasons for never apologizing :— first, an apology implies that we are accountable to somebody or another for our conduct ;—now as we do not care a fiddlestick, as authors, for either public opinion or private ill-will, it would be implying a false- | hood to apologize :—second, an apology would indicate that we 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 mis-_ tress ;—we never yet undertook to make apology with- out committing a new offence, and making matters ten times worse than they were before; and we are, there- fore, 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, gentlemen!—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 ? OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 143 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 P— 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, satirical, 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 dis- appointed 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 cri- ticisms 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 per- severance, 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. 144 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. IX.—SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW- aieoee: Ir in some measure jumps with. my humour to be “melancholy and gentlemanlike” ‘this stormy night, and I see no reason why I should not indulge myself for once.—Away, then, with joke, with fun faa laughter for a while ;. let my soul look back in mournful retro- spect, and sadden with the memory of my good aunt Charity—who died of a Frenchman ! 7 Stare not, O most dubious reader, at the mention of a complaint so uncommon; grievously hath it af- flicted 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 Christopher 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. eat lig 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 remembered when she was handsome; on the contrary, Evergreen’s father, who used to gallant 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, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 145 she would, like poor old Acco, have most certainly run mad at her own figure and face, the first time she contemplated herself in a looking-glass. In the good old times that saw my aunt in 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 unprofaned by the sacrilegious grasp of a stranger : — simple souls!—they had not the waltz among them yet ! x My good aunt prided herself on keeping up this buckram delicacy; and if she happened to be playing at the old-fashioned 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 a 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 rheumatism, from which she never thoroughly recovered. _ It is rather singular that my aunt, though a great beauty, and an heiress withal, never got married.— L 146 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 leaning towards methodism, was frequent in her attendance at love-feasts, read Whitfield 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 ortho- dox ;—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 unbounded loving-kindness, which _ extended to man, woman, and child; many of whom she almost killed with good-nature. Was any ac- quaintance ill?—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 persevering patience; and tell a thousand melancholy stories of human misery, to keep up their spirits. 'The whole catalogue of yerb teas was at her fingers’ ends, from formidable wormwood down to gentle balm; and she would descant by the hour on the healing qualities of hore-hound, catnip, and penny- royal. Woe be to the patient that came under the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 147 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 con- demned to suffer the martyrdom of her materia medica. My good aunt had, moreover, 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 cer- tainty, 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 en- titled her at least to an honorary admission in the American Philosophical Society. ‘* Hutching’s Im- proved” was her favourite book; and I shrewdly sus- pect 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 to imagine, but: it played the very vengeance with her, and destroyed the comfort of her life. Having an invincible desire to know every body’s character, business, and mode of living, she was for ever prying into the affairs of her neighbours; and got .a great deal of ill-will 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 spec- tacles, and sit at the window until the company were L2 148 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS © all housed, merely that she might know who they were. If she heard a story about any of her acquaintance, she would, forthwith, set off full sail, and never rest until, to use her usual expression, she had got “ to the bottom of it;” which meant nothing more than telling it to every body she knew. I remember one night my aunt Charity happened to hear a most precious story about one of her good friends, but unfortunately 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 ar- dent friendship. My aunt got up full two hours that morning before her usual time; put on her pompadour taffeta 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, in- stead 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 nu- merous additions, alterations, and. amendments! Now this was too bad ; it would almost have provoked Pa- tient Grizzle or a saint;—it was too much for my aunt, who kept her bed 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, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 149 chequered with the various misfortunes and. mortifica- tions incident to those worthy old gentlewomen -who have the domestic 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 established 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 monstrous large family, and somehow or other they were all men! She could not imagine what business neighbour Pension followed to support so numerous a household; and wondered why there was always such a scraping of fiddles in the parlour, and such a smell of onions from neighbour Pension’s _ kitchen: in short, neighbour Pension was continually uppermost 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 bot- tom of a thing ;” and the disappointment cost her many a sleepless night, I warrant you. I have little doubt, however, that my aunt would have ferreted neighbour Pension out, could she have spoken or understood French ; but in those times people in general could make themselves understood in plain English; and it was always a standing rule in the Cockloft family, 150 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 piti- ful proportions, arrive at neighbour Pension’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 threatened instant annihilation. This embodied spirit of famine was followed 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 monkeys; or how so small a car- cass could have occasion for so many trunks of clothes. Honest soul! she had never had a peep into a French- man’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 expound the history of this mysterious stranger: she never held up her head afterwards— drooped daily, took to her bed in a fortnight, and in OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 151 * one little month” I saw her quietly deposited in the family vault—being the seventh Cockloft that has died of a whim-wham ! Take warning, my fair countrywomen! and you, O ye excellent 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 ob- serving 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 rinp, by perusal of our last number, that Will Wizard and Evergreen, taking advantage of my con- finement, have been playing some of their gambols. I suspected these rogues of some mal-practices, in conse- quence of their queer looks and knowing winks when- ever I came down 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 misdemeanours, I have, by virtue of my authority, suspended them from all interference in Salmagundi, until they show a proper degree of repentance, or I get tired of supporting 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 152 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS stories and smoke his cigar; but Evergreen, being an old beau, may solace himself in his disgrace by trim- ming 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 of 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—like a volcano, he will remain for a long time silent without emit- ting a single spark, and then, all at once, burst out in a tremendous explosion of rhyme and rhapsody. As the letters of my friend Mustapha seem to excite considerable curiosity, I have subjoined another. I do not vouch for the justice of his remarks, or the correct- ness of his conclusions; 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 live. The copies of my friend’s papers bemg confused, and without date, I cannot pretend to give them in systematic order; in fact, they seem now and thén 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, [ neither know—nor, in fact, do I care. The following seems to have been written when the Tyrpolitan prisoners were so much annoyed by the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 153 ragged state of the wardrobe. Mustapha feelingly depicts the embarrassments of his situation; makes an easy transition from his breeches to the seat of govern- ment, and incontinently abuses the whole administra- tion; like a sapient traveller I once knew, who damned the French nation in toto—because they eat sugar with green peas. ~ LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB A-DUB KELI KHAN, To Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. Sweet, O Asem! is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow ray of a departing sun, it falls tenderly yet sadly on the heart. Livery 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 listens to the sigh of the captive: I shed the bitter tear of recollec- tion, but no one sympathises 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 la- bours, the chains, the scourges, the insults, that render slavery, with us, more dreadful than the pangs of he- sitating, lingering death. Light, indeed, are the re- straints on the personal freedom of thy kinsman; but who can enter into the afflictions of the mind? who can describe 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. 154 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS I have of late, my dear Asem, laboured under an inconvenience 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, O most grave Mussulman, to hear me indulge in lamentations about a circumstance so trivial, and a want apparently so easy to be satisfied : but little canst thou know of the mortifications at- tending my necessities, and the astonishing difficulty of supplying them. Honoured by the smiles and at- tentions of the beautiful ladies of this city, who have fallen in love with my whiskers and my turban ;— courted by the bashaws and the great men, who de- light 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 de- cline 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 pdison those moments of sunshine, which might other- wise be consecrated to happiness. The want of a garment, thou wilt say, is easily sup- pled; and thou mayest suppose need only be men- tioned, to be remedied at once by any tailor of the land. Little canst thou conceive the impediments OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 155 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! 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 amazingly long face—told me that we were prisoners of state— that we must therefore be clothed at the expense of the government; that as no provision has been made by Congress for an emergency of the kind, it was im- possible to furnish me with a pair of breeches, until all the sages of the nation had been convened to talk over the matter, and debate upen the expediency of grant- ing my request. Sword of the immortal Khalid, thought I, but this is great!—this is truly sublime! All the sages of an immense logo¢racy assembled to- _ gether to talk about my breeches!—Vain mortal that Tam! I cannot but own I was somewhat reconciled to the delay which must necessarily attend this method of clothmg me, by the consideration 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 immortality in the annals of this mighty empire ! | ‘* But pray, sir,” said I, “‘ how does it happen that a matter so insignificant should be erected into an ob- ject of such importance 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 156 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS from economy. If the government did not spend ten times as much money in debating whether it was pro- per to supply you with breeches as the breeches them- selves would cost, the people, who govern the bashaw and his divan, would straightway begin to complain of their hberties bemg infringed—the national finances squandered—not a hostile slang-whanger throughout the logocracy but would burst forth like 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 possible they can spend money in talking: surely words cannot be the current coin of this coun- try ?”-—“ Truly,” cried he, smiling, “ your question 1s pertinent enough, for words indeed often supply the place 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 na- tion, 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 much about nothing, when they are paid for talking like day-labourers.” “¢ You are mistaken,” said my driver; “it 1s nothing but economy *.” ; * Some of our readers may not be aware, that the Members of the American Legislature are paid six dollars per diem for their attendance during the sittings, besides an allowance for travelling expenses.—Edit. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 157 I remained silent for some minutes, for this inex- plicable word economy always discomfits me;—and when I flatter myself I have grasped it, it slips through my fingers like a jack-o’lantern. I have not, nor per- haps ever shall acquire, sufficient of the philosophic policy 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 fighting 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 orators, I am told, being rather waggishly 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 lightly. It is supposed by some that this affair would have occupied a whole winter, as 158 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS it was a subject upon which 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 talents for silence;—a qualification ex- tremely rare in a logocracy. Fortunately for the public tranquillity, in the hottest part of the debate, when two rampant Virginians, brim- ful 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 slyly sent a mason with a hod of mortar, who in the course of a few mi- nutes closed up the hole, and put a final end to the argument. ‘Thus did this wise old gentleman, by a most simple expedient, in all probability save his country as much money as would build a gun-boat, or pay a hireling slang-whanger for a whole volume of words. As it happened, only a few thousand dollars were ex- pended in paying these men, who are denominated, I suppose in derision, legislators. Another instance of their economy I relate with plea- sure, 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 collective wisdom of this mighty logocracy employed * General Eaton. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 159 in profound debates upon the most trivial affairs; as I have sometimes seen a Herculean mountebank exert all his energies in balancing a straw upon his nose. Their sages behold the minutest object with the mi- croscopic eyes of a pismire; mole-hills swell into mountains, and a grain of mustard-seed will set the whole ant-hill in a hubbub. Whether this indicates a capacious 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 1s transacted in this country. I have before told thee that nothing can be done without consulting the sages of the nation, who compose the assembly called the Congress. This prolific body may not improperly be called the “mother of in- ventions ;” 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, like midwives, at the de- livery.—All was anxiety, fidgeting, and consultation ; when after a deal of groaning and struggling, 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 con- tinually foundering or running ashore; and in short, are 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 160 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS nursing as so many rickety little bantlings. They are, however, the darlmg 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 people as a grand stroke of economy.—By the beard of Mahomet, but this word 1s 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 magnitude of their powers, mu- nificently bestow on an unfortunate captive a pair of cotton breeches! ‘‘ Head of the immortal Amrou,” cried I, “but this would be presumptuous to a degree — What! after these worthies have thought proper to leave their country naked and defenceless, and exposed to all the political storms that rattle without, can I expect that they will lend a helping hand to comfort the extremities of a solitary captive?” My exclama- tion was only answered by a smile, and I was consoled by the assurance that, so far from being neglected, 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 im guerpo, 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 were visible in my countenance, and my guard, who is a man of in- finite good-nature, immediately suggested, as a more OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 161 expeditious plan of supplying my wants, a benefit at the theatre. Though profoundly ignorant of his mean- ing, I agreed to his proposition, the result of which I shall disclose to thee in another letter. Fare thee well, dear Asem; mm thy pious prayers to our great prophet, never forget to solicit thy friend’s return; and when thou numberest up the many bless- ings bestowed on thee by all-bountiful Allah, pour forth thy gratitude that he has cast thy nativity ina 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 unknown ; —and where an unfortunate captive is not obliged to eall upon the whole nation to cut him out a pair of breeches. Ever thine, MusTAPHa. FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. Though entered 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 like 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 the farewell peep. M 162 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 ravaged 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 ! "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 cursed us not,—that modern flash, That love of racket and of trash ; Which scares at once all feeling joys, And drowns delight in empty noise ; Which barters friendship, mirth and truth, The artless air, the bloom of youth, And all those gentle sweets that swarm Round nature in their 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, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. More fond his feelings to express Than show the tinsel of his dress ! These were the times that held the soul In gentle friendship’s soft control ; Our fair ones, unprofaned 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 universal 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 ; Six conquests in one year will make, And ten eternal friendships break! How oft I breatne the inward sigh, And feel the dew-drop in my eye, 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! 163 164 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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, alike in face, In mien, in loveliness, and grace ; Twin rose-buds, bursting into bloom, In all their freshness and perfume ; Like those fair forms that often beam Upon the Eastern poet’s dream ! For Eden had each lovely maid In native innocence array d— 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’ my sight, And thrill’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, Will bless, at rare and distant whiles, Our sinful dwelling by their smiles. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 165 Oh! my romance of youth is past— Dear airy dream, too bright to last. Yet when such forms as these appear, I feel its soft remembrance here ; For oft the simple poet’s heart, On which fond love once play’d its part, Will feel 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 [ 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 fulfill’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, But now resign'd the calm retreat, Where first their souls in concert beat, They’d flown 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, Pare as the gentle stream that laves The green banks with its lucid waves, 166 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Bloom beauteous in their native ground, Diffusing heavenly fragrance round ; But should a venturous hand transfer These blossoms to the gay parterre, 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 life’s chequer’d way ; Who hover round them as they glide 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, unsullied, bright As the first beams of lucid light, That sparkled from the youthful sun, When first his jocund race begun. So when these hearts shall burst their shrine, To wing their flight to realms divine, They may to radiant mansions rise Pure as when first they left the skies. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 167 NO. X.—SATURDAY, MAY 4, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Tue long interval which has elapsed since the pub- lication of our last number, like many other remarka- ble events, has given rise tomuch conjecture, and excited considerable solicitude. It is but a day or two since I heard a knowing young gentleman observe that he suspected Salmagundi would be a nine days’ wonder, and had even 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, mo- nopolize prediction, 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 feelin a remarkably dulcet humour there- upon, and will give some account of the reasons which induced us to resume our useful labours—or rather our amusements ; 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 publisher 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 168 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS catastrophe: and one good-looking man, in particular, declared his intention 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 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 suspected me of being Launcelot Lang- staff than they suspect me of being the Emparatiy of China, or the man in the moon. I have also received several letters complaining of our indolent procrastination; and one of my corre- spondents assures me, that a number of young gentle- men, who kad net 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 deter- mination to set the whole world to rights: to make cherubim and seraphim of all the fair ones of this en- - chanting town, and raise the spirits of the poor fe- deralists, who, m truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever since the American-Ticket met with the accident of being so unhappily thrown out. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 169 TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. -Str—I felt myself hurt and offended by Mr. Ever- green’s terrible philippic 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 opinions of yourself and fraternity appear indeed to have a wonder- ful 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 support- ing the astonishing variety of the orchestra, and in composing a new chime or bob-major for Trinity- church, to be rung during the summer, beginning with ding-dong di-do, instead of di-do ding-dong. The citizens, especially those who live in the neighbour- hood of that harmonious quarter, will no doubt be in- finitely delighted with this novelty. But to the object of this communication. So far, sir, from agreeing with Mr. Evergreen ui thmking that all modern music is but the mere dregs and drain- ings of the ancient, I trust, before this letter is con- cluded, I shall convince you and him that some of the late professors of this enchanting art have completely distanced the paltry efforts of the ancients; and that 1, 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 170 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS into bricks, and quavers into mortar—and of Arion, who won upon the compassion 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 wonderful 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 imanimate objects 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 stance, Lodoiska, and the battle of Marengo, a gentleman, or a captain in the city militia, or an ama- zonian young lady, may indeed acquire a tolerable idea of military tactics, and become very well experienced in the firmg of musketry, the roarimg of cannon, the rattling of drums, the whistling of fifes, braying of — trumpets, groans of the dying, and trampling of ca- valry, 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 neces- sity of speech, that I particularly excel the most cele- brated 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 171 the perfection of my art, I have discovered a method of expressing, in the most striking manner, that un- definable, indescribable silence, which accompanies the falling of snow. 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 exceedingly, called the “ Breaking up of the ice in the North-river.” The piece opens with a gentle andante affettuoso, which ushers you into the Assembly-room in the State- house at Albany, where the Speaker addresses his fare- well 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 pathetic as to bring tears into their eyes.—Flourish of Jacks-a-donkies.— Ice cracks; Albany in a hubbub—air, “ Three chil- dren sliding on the ice, all on a summer’s day.”— Citizens quarrelling in Dutch—chorus of tin trumpet, a cracked fiddle, and a hand-saw !—allegvo moderato. _—Hard frost: this, if given with proper spirit, has a charming effect, and sets every body’s teeth chattering. —Symptoms of snow—consultation 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.— Waggon 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”—andante ;—frost 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 rattles—consultation of the North-river society—determine to set the North-river 172 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS on fire, as soon as it will burn—air, ‘‘O, what a fine Kettle of fish.” Part II1.—Great thaw.—This consists of the most melting strains, flowing 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 swim over, fal de ral,” &c.—Vessel sets sail—chorus of mariners, “¢ Steer her up, and let her gang.”—After this a rapid movement conducts you to New-York—the North- river society hold a meeting at the corner of Wall- street, and determine to delay burning till all the assembly men are safe home, for fear of consuming some of their own members who belong to that re- spectable body.—Return again to the capital_—lce floats down the river—lamentation of skaters—air, affettuoso—“ I sigh and lament me in vain,” &c.— Albanians cutting up sturgeon—air, ‘ 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, and 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-bot- tomed angel at Messrs. Paff’s in Broadway. Ice passes New-York—conch-shell sounds at a distance—ferry- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. PS man 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 Powles-hook admiral, who is supposed to be closely connected with the North-river society.—The society make a grand attempt to fire the stream, but are utterly defeated by a remarkably high tide, which brings the plot to light —drowns upwards of a thousand rats, and occasions twenty robins to break their necks *.—Society not being discouraged, apply to “‘ Common Sense” for his lantern}-—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 Sands’ powder-house. Thus, sir, you perceive what wonderful powers of expression have been hitherto locked up in this en- chanting 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-@auvre, which I am confident will delight all modern amateurs, who very properly estimate music in proportion to the noise it makes, and delight in thundermg cannon and earth- quakes. 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 ' * Vide—Solomon Lang. + Alluding to Tom Paine, who had’a remarkably red nose. dit. 174 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 de- light of papa 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 all the rest of his life; but having once learned this new musical lan- guage, 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 intercourse ; for it is certainly much more agreeable to hear a lady give lectures on the piano, than, vivé voce, in the usual discordant measure. 'This manner of discoursing may also, I think, be introduced with great effect into our national assemblies, where every man, instead of wageing his tongue, should be obliged to flourish a fiddle-stick ; by which means, if he said nothing to the purpose, he would at all events “ discourse most elo- quent music,” which is more than can be said of most of them at present. They might also sound their own OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 175 trumpets without being obliged to a hireling scribbler for an immortality 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 culti- vated, nothing more will be necessary than a know- ledge of its alphabet; which being almost the same every where, will amount to a universal medium of communication. 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, &c. DEMY SEMIQUAVER. NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER, Without the knowledge or permission of the authors, and which, 1f 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 did in the days of our grand-dames. 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 * the Mirror of the Graces.’ | ‘“‘T REMEMBER the Count M , one of the most accomplished and handsome 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 influence at court ; and on these considerations, as well as in regard to her charms, she was followed by a multitude of suitors. 176 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS She was lively and amiable, and treated them all with an affability which still kept them in her train, although it was generally 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 believed dwelt in her beauti- ful form. Like a lover of such perfections, he never approached her without timidity : and when he touched her, a fire shot through: his veins, that warned him not to invade the vermilion sanctuary of her lips. Such were his feelings, when, one evening, at his intended father-in-law’s, a party of young people were met to celebrate a certain festival: several of the young lady’s rejected suitors were present. Forfeits were one of the pastimes, and all went on with the greatest merriment, till the Count was commanded, by some witty mam’selle, to redeem his glove, by saluting the cheek of his intended bride. ‘The Count blushed, trembled, ad- vanced, 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 lips, 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, unthinking disposition, was adjudged by the same in- discreet crier of the forfeits as ‘his last treat before he hanged himself” to snatch a kiss from the object of his recent vows. A lively contest ensued between the gentleman and lady, which lasted for more than a mi- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ, 177 nute; but the lady yielded, though in the midst of a convulsive laugh. “ offend against the decencies of life, go often to church, look down on honest poverty, walking on foot, and call themselves gentlemen; yea, men of honour! Lot- tery-offices—another set of capital shavers! licensed gambling-houses! good things enough though, as they enable a few honest industrious 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 bit? Messrs. Paff—beg pardon for putting them in such bad company, because they are a couple of fine fellows—mem. to recommend Michael’s an- tique snuff-box to all amateurs in the art. Eagle singing Yankey-doodle—N. B. Buffon, Pennant, 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 serenaded him once in Canada:—digression ; particular account of the Canadian Indians;—story about Areskou learning to make fishing-nets of a ‘spider—don’t believe it, because, according to Linkum, and many other learned authorities, Areskou is the same as Mars, being derived from his Greek name 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 ;—derivation of the word spinster from spider ;—Colophon, now Altobosco, the birth-place of Arachne, remarkable for a famous breed of spiders to this day ;—mem.—nothing like a little scholarship— make the ignoramuses, viz. the majority of my readers, stare like wild pigeons; return to New-York by a short cut—meet a dashing belle, in a thick white veil— tried to get a peep at her face; saw she squinted OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 915 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 little boy under it;—mem.—I don’t much see the use of speaking trumpets now-a-days. CHAPTER V. Bought a pair of gloves; dry-good shops the ge- nuine 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. Digression to the arch-duke Charles, and some account of the ancient Germans. N. B. Quote Tacitus on this subject. Particular description of market-baskets, butchers’ blocks, and -wheelbarrows: mem. queer things run upon one wheel! Saw a cartman driving full-tilt through Broadway—run 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 _ jurisprudence. Comparison between legislators and tinkers: quaere, whether it requires greater ability to 216 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS mend, a law than to mend a kettle? Inquiry into the utility of making laws that are broken a hundred times in a day with impunity ; my Lord Coke’s opinion on the subject; my lord a very great man-—so was Lord Bacon: good story about a criminal named Hog claiming relationship with him. Hogg’s porter- house—great haunt of Will Wizard. Will put down there one night by a sea-captain, in an argument con- cerning the wra of the Chinese empire Whangpo. Hogg’s a 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 affairs of the nation. Scheme of Ichabod Fungus to restore the balance of Europe. Digression: some ac- count 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, sig- nifying murderers’ valley, formerly the site of a great peach-orchard: my grandmother’s history of the fa- mous Peach war; arose from an Indian stealing 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Q17 folly « of mankind, the ambition of kings, potentates, and princes—particularly Alexander, Cesar, Charles XII., 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 pro- duce battle, murder, and sudden death: mem. ran my nose against a lamp-post—conclude in great dudgeon. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Ovr cousin Pindar, after having been confined for some time past with a fit of the gout, which is a kind of keep-sake 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 compli- ments which, contrary to his usual style, he has lavished on the dear sex. The old gentleman, unfortunately observing my merriment, stumped out of the room with great vociferation of crutch, and_has not ex- changed three words with me since. I expect every hour to hear that he has packed up his moveables, 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 wo- men. But when the spring comes on, and the mild influence of the sun releases nature from her icy fet- ters, the ice of his bosom dissolves into a gentle current, s = 218 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS which reflects the bewitching qualities of the fair ;, 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 con- trol of this influence he has written his piece; and I beg the ladies, in the plenitude of their harmless con- ceit, 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 folly assails in habiliments new, When fashion obtrudes some fresh whim-wham to view; When the foplings 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 ; Which completes the sweet fopling 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 cotillon or smoke a cigar; & OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 219 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 recall with delight how each younker at first In the cradle of science and virtue was nursed ; How the graces of person and graces of mind, The polish of learning and fashion combined, Till soften’d in manners and strengthen’d in head, By the classical lore of the living and dead, Matured in his person till manly in size, He then was presented a beau to our eyes ! 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 thrumming for ever their weakness of sex— And who boast of themselves, when they talk 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 dim visual ray The cheering delights and the brilliance of day, To forsake the fair regions of zther and light, For dull moping caverns of darkness and night ; 290 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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. Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain, Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain. ‘Tis the common-place jest of the nursery scape-goat ; "Tis the common-place ballad that croaks from his throat : He knows not that nature—that custom, 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 full 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 frolicksome fit, In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit May start some light foible that clings to the fair, Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare ; In the play of his fancy will sportively say Some delicate censure that pops in his way ; He may smile at your fashions, and frankly express His dislike 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 delights 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 ; OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 991 But like the mild orb of pale evening serene, Whose radiance illumines, yet softens the scene, To light us with cheering and welcoming ray Along the rude path when the sun is away. 1 own in my scribblings I lately have named Some faults of our fair which I gently have blamed ; But be it for ever by all understood, My censures were only pronounced for their good. I delight in the sex—’tis the pride of my mind To consider them gentle, endearing, refined ; As our solace below in the journey of life, To smooth its rough passes, to soften its strife ; As objects intended our joys to supply, And 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 defined The fop from the man of refinement and mind: The latter believes 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 bis protection and care. 42a WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XIIIL.—FRIDAY, AuGusT 14, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. I was not a little perplexed, a short time since, by the eccentric conduct of my knowing coadjutor Will Wizard. For two or three days he was completely 1 in a quandary. He would come into old Cockloft’s par- lour ten times a day, swinging his ponderous legs along with his usual vast strides, clap his hands into his sides, contemplate the little 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. ”I'was evident Will was full of some mighty idea—not that his restlessness was any way uncommon; for I have often seen him throw himself almost into a fever of heat and fatigue—doing nothing. But his inflexible taciturnity set the whole family, as usual, a-wondering, as he 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 theatre—or that some new outrage at Norfolk had put him in a worry;—in short, I did not know what to think ; for Will is such a universal busy-body, and meddles so much in every thing going forward, that OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 223 you might as well attempt to conjecture what is 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 cor- rect deportment of her female friends, was struck with the mystery of 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 im- portance, yet she could not help turning round and exclaiming, ‘“‘ I wonder what can be the matter with Mr. Wizard!” <“ Nothing,” replied old Christopher, “ only we shall have an eruption soon.”—The old lady ° did not understand 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 wise- acre 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 communi- cation from him before long; and, ‘sure enough, the evening before last I distinguished his free-mason knock at mydoor. I have seen many wise men in my time, philosophers, mathematicians, astronomers, poli- ticians, editors, and almanack-makers—but never did I see a man look half as wise as did my friend Wizard on entermg the room. Had Lavater beheld him at that: moment, he would have set him down, to a cer- tainty, as a fellow who had just discovered the longi- tude or the philosopher’s stone. — ODA WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Without saying a word, he handed me a roll of paper; after which he lighted his cigar, 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 confounded Chinese manuscripts, and I was forthwith going to dismiss it with indignation; but accidentally seeing the name of our oracle, the sage Linkum, of whose inestimable folios we pride ourselves upon being the sole possessors, I began to think the better of it, and looked round at Will to express my approbation. 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 disappro- bation, began, according to custom, to puff away at his cigar with such vigour, that in a few minutes he had entirely involved himself in smoke, except his nose and one foot, which were just visible, the latter wag- ging 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 as well to add, that in his voyages under the tropics it has acquired a copper complexion, which renders it very brilliant and luminous. You may imagine what a sumptuous appearance it made, projecting boldly, like the celebrated promontoriwm nasidium at Samos with a light-house upon it, and surrounded on all sides with smoke and vapour. Had my gravity been like the Chinese philosopher’s, ‘‘ within one degree of absolute frigidity,” here would have been atrial for it. I could OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 225 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 cigar into the fire-place, and strode out of the room, pulling up his breeches, muttering something which, I verily believe, was nothing more nor less than a horribly 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 believe, 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 anti- quarian studies an old manuscript or inscription, am’ frequently at a loss to know what the rogue would be at. I have seen him indulge in his favourite amuse- ment 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 into a laugh almost as loud as the shout of the Romans on a certain occasion, which honest Plu- tarch avers frightened several crows to such a degree, that they fell down stone dead into the Campus Mar- tius. 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, ac- cording to accurate measurement, it contained thirty feet square of solid laughter. What will the professors | say to this? 296 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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. SureLy never was a town more subject to mid- summer fancies and dog-day whim-whams than this most excellent of cities. Our notions, like our dis- -eases, seem all epidemic; and no sooner does a new disorder or a new freak seize one individual, but it 1s sure to run through all the community. ‘This 1s par- ticularly 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 making 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 har- bour. Not a cobbler or tailor in the city but has left his awl and his thimble, become an engineer outright, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 22 and aspired most magnanimously to the building of forts and destruction 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 incendiaries 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 ycleped a torpedo; by which the stoutest line-of-battle ship, even a Santissima T'rinidada, 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 destroy the enemy in the mo- ments of unsuspicious security. This straw tickled the noses of all our dignitaries wonderfully; for, to do our government justice, it has no objection to injuring and exterminating its enemies in any manner—provided 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 tor- tured, and battered, and annihilated, secundem artem. A day was appointed for the occasion, when all the good citizens of the wonder-loving city of Gotham q2 228 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS ‘were invited to the blowing-up; like the fat inn-keeper in Rabelais, 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. Walter Shandy for all kinds of experiments that are ingeniously ridiculous, I made very particular men- tion of the one in question at the table of my friend Christopher Cockloft; but it put the honest old gentle- man in a violent passion. He condemned it in Zofo, as an attempt to introduce a dastardly and extermi- nating mode of warfare.—‘ Already have we proceeded far enough,” said he, ‘‘in the science of destruction: war is already invested with sufficient horrors and cala- mities; let us not increase the catalogue; let us not, by these deadly artifices, provoke a system of insidious and indiscriminate hostility, that may terminate “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 politician; 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 nothing. Dear souls, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 299 how hard was it they should be disappointed! the brig most obstinately refused to be decomposed ;—the dinners grew cold, and the puddings were overboiled, throughout the renowned city of Gotham; and its sapient inhabitants, like the honest Strasburghers, from whom most of them are doubtless 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 disappointment.—By the way, there is not an animal in the world more discriminating in its venge- ance than a free-born mob. In the evening I repaired to friend Hogg’s, to smoke a sociable cigar, 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 gentleman informed me that the brig had actually been blown up, after a world of manceuvring, 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 machines—hinted a suspicion of their wishing 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, all that’s necessary is, that the ships must. come to anchor in a convenient place; watch must be asleep, or so complacent as not to disturb any boats paddling about them—fair wind and tide—no moonlight—machines well directed—mustn’t 230 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS flash in the pan—bang’s the word, and the vessel’s blown up in a moment !”—* Good,” said I, “ you re- mind me of a lubberly Chinese who was flogged by an honest captain of my acquaintance, and who, on being advised to retaliate, exclaimed—* Hi yah! spose two men hold fast him captain, den very mush me bamboo he !” The old gentleman grew a little crusty, and in- sisted that I did not understand him ;—all that was: requisite to render the effect certain was, that the enemy should enter into the project; or, in common phrase, 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 suc- cess of the machine would be inevitable—provided it struck fire. ‘* But do not you think,” said I, doubt- ingly, “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 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 them up as best suits our convenience. I have thought deeply on that subject, and have calculated to a certainty, that if our funds hold out, we may in this way destroy the whole British navy—by contract.” By this time all the quidnuncs of the room had gathered around us, each pregnant with some mighty scheme for the salvation of his country. One pa- thetically lamented that we had no such men among us as the famous ‘Toujoursdort and Grossituut, who, when the celebrated Captain Tranchemont made war OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 231 against the city of Kalacahabalaba, utterly discom- fited the great King Bigstaff, and blew up his whole army by sneezing.— Another imparted a sage idea, which seems to have occupied more heads than one; that is, that the best way of fortifying the harbour was to ruin it at once; choke the channel with rocks and blocks; strew it with chevauax de frises and tor- pedoes, and make it like 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 ourselves. 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 million 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 listening by with a mischievously equivocal look, observed that the most effectual mode of repulsing a fleet from our ports would be to administer them a proclamation from time to time, till it operated. Unwilling to leave the company without demon- strating my patriotism and ingenuity, I communicated eae WHIM-WITAMS AND OPINIONS a plan of defence ; which in truth was suggested long since by that infallible oracle Mustapha, who had as clear a head for cobweb-weaving as ever dignified the shoulders of a projector. He thought the most ef- fectual mode would be to assemble all the slang- whangers, great and small, from all parts of the state, and marshal them at the battery ; where they should be exposed point-blank to the enemy, and form a tremendous body of scolding infantry, similar to the poissards, or doughty champions of Billingsgate. They should be exhorted to fire away, without pity or re- morse, in sheets, half-sheets, columns, hand-bills, or squibs ; great canon, little canon, pica, German-text, stereotype, and to run their enemies through with sharp-pointed italics. ‘They should have orders to show no quarter—to blaze away in their loudest epi- thets—“ Miscreants !” “ Murderers !” “ Barbarians !” “© Pirates!” “ Robbers!” “ Buacxeuanrns!” and, to do away all fear of consequences, they should be guaranteed from all dangers of pillory, kicking, cuff- ing, nose-pulling, 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 are 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 out; and rely upon it, that let any fleet, how- ever large, be but once assailed by this battery of slang-whangers, and if they have not entirely lost. their sense of hearing, or a regard for their own characters and feelings, they will, at the very first fire, slip their cables, and retreat with as much precipitation as if OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 233 they had unwarily entered into the atmosphere of the Bohan upas. In this manner may your wars be con- ducted with proper economy; and it will cost no more to drive off a fleet than to write up a party, or write down a Bashaw of three tails. The sly old gentleman I have before 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, &c. 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, resolutions of ‘‘numerous and re- spectable meetings,” and other combustibles, which vessels were to be blown directly in the midst of the enemy by the bellows of the slang-whangers; and he was much mistaken if they would not be more fatal than fire-ships, bomb-ketches, gun-boats, or even tor- pedoes. These are but two or three specimens of the nature and efficacy of the innumerable plans with which this city abounds. Every body seems charged to the muzzle with gunpowder, every eye flashes fire-works 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 934 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS the great annoyance of the inhabitants of Cockloft- hall, whither he had retired 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 ma- jestically 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 will be presented, that we shall be at a loss which to adopt, and the peaceable inha- bitants fare like a famous projector of my acquaintance, whose house was unfortunately plundered while he was contriving a patent lock to secure his door. | OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 235 FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. Points tat OO Po 1, OR “ WHAT YOU WILL.” Loxiine 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 with a little of the delicious languor of disposition that delights in repose, must often have sported among the faéry scenes, the golden visions, the voluptuous reveries, that swim before the imagination at such moments, resembling those blissful sensations a Mussulman enjoys after his favourite in- dulgence of opium, which Will Wizard declares can be compared to nothing but ‘ swimming in an ocean of peacocks’ feathers.” In such a mood, every body must be sensible it would be idle and unprofitable for aman to send his wits a gadding on a voyage of dis- covery into futurity ; or even to trouble himself with a laborious investigation of what is actually passing under his eye. Weare, at such times, more disposed to re- sort to the pleasures of memory than to those of the imagination; and like the way-faring traveller, re- clining 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 myseif and stuliify 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 dif- ficulty ii keeping awake through the day, it would 236 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS be cruel to saddle them with the formidable difficulty of putting two ideas together and drawing a conclu- sion; 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 retrospect.— Whether, like certain great personages of the day, in attempting to prove one thing, I have exposed another; or whether, like certain 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 and inclination so to do; but a RETROSPECT will I take notwithstanding. I am perfectly aware that in doing this I shall 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, occasionally, and par- ticularly 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 myself entirely independent of all manner of opinions and criticisms, as the only method of getting on in this world in any 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 ex- cellent reasons for doing unreasonable things; but this is merely to show them, that although I may occa- sionally 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 inex- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 237 perienced readers, namely, that a man always gets more credit in the eyes of this naughty world for sinning wilfully than for sinning through sheer ig- norance. It will doubtless be insisted by many ingenious cavillers, who will be meddling with what does not at all concern them, that this retrospect should have been taken at the commencement of our second volume*; it is usual, I know: moreover it is natural. So soon as a writer has once accomplished a volume, he forth- with 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 folio 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, there- fore, 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 in- dulgence of a little self-sufficiency; inasmuch as people have then little 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 our- selves a whit the wiser or better since we have finished our volume than we were before; on the contrary, we ~ * In the American editions the first volume terminates with the 10th number.— Edit. 938 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS seriously assure our readers that we were fully possessed of all the wisdom and morality it contains at the mo- ment we commenced writing. It is the world which has grown wiser,—not we; we have thrown our mite into the common stock of knowledge; we have shared our morsel with the ignorant multitude; and so far from elevating ourselves above the world, our sole en- deavour 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, a retrospect is but a sorry amusement. Like the industrious husbandman, he often contem- plates in silent disappointment his labours wasted on a barren soil, or the seed he has carefully sown choked by a redundancy of worthless weeds. I expected long ere this to have seen a complete reformation in man- ners 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 our work would be introduced ito the academies with which every lane and alley of our cities abounds—when our precepts would be gently inducted into every unlucky urchin by force of birch—and my ironbound physiognomy, as taken by Will Wizard, be as notorious as that of Noah Webster, jun. Esq., or his no less renowned predecessor the illustrious Dilworth, of spelling-book immortality. But, well-a-day! 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFY, ESQ. 239 thou hast erected should prove a “ baseless fabric !” Much does it grieve me to confess, that after all our lectures, precepts, and excellent admonitions, the people of New York are nearly as much given to backsliding and ill-nature as ever; they are just as much aban- doned 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 arrived, no less than eighteen characters have been blown up, besides a number of others that have been wofully shattered. The ladies still labour under the same scarcity of muslins, and delight in flesh-coloured silk stockings: it is evident, however, that our advice has had very considerable effect on them, as they endeavour to act as opposite to. it as possible—this being what Ever- green calls female independence. As to the Straddles, they abound as much as ever in Broadway, particularly on Sundays; and Wizard roundly asserts that he supped in company with a knot of them a few evenings since, when they liquidated a whole Birmingham con- signment 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 onsct 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 epi- demic, the rage for punning, which, though doubtless originally intended merely to ornament and enliven conversation by little sports of fancy, threatens to over- run and poison the whole, like the baneful ivy which destroys the useful plant it first embellished. Now I look upon an habitual punster as a depredator upon 240 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS conversation; and I have remarked sometimes one of these offenders sitting silent on the watch for an hour together, until some luckless wight, unfortunately 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 mumbling at it until it was capable of no farther marring, relapse again into silent watchfulness, and lie in wait for another opportunity. 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 nature. Let these gentlemen fritter away conversation with impunity, 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 free from the infection; nay, that it has even ap- proached so near as to menace the tranquillity of my elbow-chair: for Will Wizard, as we were in council 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 unani- mously 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 condition of refraining from such diabolical practices in future. Pindar is particularly outrageous against punsters; and quite astonished and put me to a non- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 241 plus a day or two since, by asking abruptly “ whether I thought a punster could be a good Christian?” 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 jeua de mots. But what, above every thing else, has caused me much vexation of spirit, and displeased me most with this stiff-necked nation is, that in spite of all the se- rious and profound censures of the sage Mustapha, in his various letters—they will talk !—they will still wag their tongues, and chatter like very slang-whangers! This is a degree of obstinacy incomprehensible in the extreme, and is another proof how alarming is the force of habit, and how difficult it 1s 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 moderate and reasonable expectations, by sup- posing the world so deeply sunk in the mire of de- linquency, that not even, Hercules, 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 degenerate 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 at finding their invaluable effusions neg- lected or despised, console themselves with the idea that ’tis a stupid age, and look forward to posterity for redress—we bequeath our’ first volume to future generations—and much good may it do them. Heaven R 242 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS grant they may be able to read it! for, if our fashionable mode of education continues to improve as of late, 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 alphabet—and the heels, by an antipodean manceuvre, obtain entire pre-eminence over the head. How does my heart yearn for poor dear posterity, when this work shall become as unintelligible 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 laughing—which we consider as one of the dearest prerogatives of man, and the distinguish- ing characteristic which raises him above all other animals: let them laugh therefore if they will, pro- vided 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 aman out of one. In this odd, singular, and indescribable age, which is neither the age of gold, silver, iron, brass, chivalry, or pills, what- ever Sir John Carr may assert, a grave writer who at- tempts to attack folly with the heavy artillery of moral reasoning will fare like Smollet’s honest pedant, who clearly demonstrated by angles, &c. after the manner of Kuclid, that it was wrong to do evil, and was laughed at for his pains. Take my word for it, a little well applied ridicule, like Hannibal’s application of vinegar OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, Esa. © 243 to rocks, will do more with certain hard heads and obdurate hearts than all the logic or demonstrations in Longinus or Euclid. But the people of Gotham, wise souls! are so much accustomed to see morality approach them, clothed in formidable wigs and sable garbs, ‘ with leaden eye that loves the ground,” that they can never recognise her when, drest in gay attire, she comes tripping towards them with smiles and sun- shine in her countenance.—Well, let the rogues remain in happy ignorance, for ‘ ignorance is bliss,” as the poet says; and I put as implicit faith in poetry as I do in the almanack or the newspaper. We will im- prove 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 reforma- tion working within them. Among all our mamifold grievances, however, still some small but vivid rays of sunshine occasionally brighten along our path, cheering our steps, and in- viting us to persevere. The public have paid some little regard to a few articles of our advice—they have purchased our num- bers freely; so much the better for our publisher— they have read them attentively ; so much the better for themselves. The melancholy 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 im- mediately sent over with his compliments—the good R 2 Q44 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS ladies took the hint, and have scarcely appeared at their window since. As to the wooden gentlemen, our friend Miss Sparkle assures me they are wonderfully improved 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 im- portation of finery: nor has any lady, since the cold weather, ventured to expose her elbows to the 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 admini- stration: I am assured, from unquestionable authority, that our young ladies, doubtless in consequence of our weighty admonitions, have not once indulged in that intoxicating, inflammatory, and whirligig dance, the waltz, ever since warm 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 all 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 applications of the uncharitable !— how often have we been accused of emotions which never found an entrance into our bosoms!—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 dispositions: we * Jack gall’ to wound the feelings of a single innocent OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 245 individual—we can even forgive them from the very bottom of our souls; may they meet as ready a for- giveness from their own consciences! Like true and independent bachelors, having no domestic cares to interfere with our general benevolence, we consider it incumbent upon us to watch over the welfare of society; and although we are indebted to the world for little else than left-handed favours, yet we feel a proud satisfaction in requiting evil with good, ‘and the sneer of ulliberality with the unfeigned smile of good-humour. With these mingled motives of selfishness and phi- lanthropy we commenced our work, and if we can- not solace ourselves with the consciousness of having _ done much good, yet there is still one pleasing consola- tion left, which the world can neither give nor take away. There are moments—lingering moments of listless indifference and heavy-hearted despondency —when our best hopes and affections slipping, as they sometimes will, from their hold on those objects to which they usually cling for support, seem abandoned 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 momentary interest to con- templation. We look back with delight upon many of these moments of mental gloom, whiled away by the cheerful exercise of our pen, and consider every such triumph over the spleen as retarding the furrow- ing hand of time in its insidious encroachments 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 9A6 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 an illustrious victim on the altar of party animosity. TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. Ir is our misfortune to be frequently pestered, in our peregrinations about this learned 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 promising protegé, 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 Jate 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 de- dication 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 appearance on the 24th of the preceding February. We were on the point of acquittng Jeremy with honour, on the ground that it was impossible, knowing as he 1s, to borrow from a foreign work, one month before it was in existence, when Will Wizard suddenly took up the cudgels for the critics, and insisted that nothing was more probable, for he recollected reading of an ingenious Dutch author, who plainly convicted the ancients of stealing from his labours!—So much for criticism. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 247 We have received a host of friendly and admonitory letters from different quarters, and among the rest a very loving epistle from George-town, Columbia, signed ‘Teddy M‘Gundy, 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 kindred: 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 correspondents, that their communications will be infinitely more acceptable if they will just re- collect Tom Shuffleton’s advice,“ pay the post-boy, Muggins.” 248 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XIV.—SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1807. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, To Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. Hratra and joy to the friend of my heart !—May the angel of peace ever watch over thy dwelling, and the star of prosperity shed its benignant lustre on all thy undertakings. Far other is the lot of thy captive friend ;—his brightest hopes extend but toa 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 felicity. In midnight slumbers my soul holds sweet converse 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 that rolls between us disappears, and I clasp to my bosom the companion of my youth! I awake, and find it but a vision of the night. The sigh will rise,—the tear of dejection will steal adown my cheek :—I fly to my pen, and strive to forget 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 wholly to abstract myself from my own feelings, 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 sorrows, to entertain thee occasionally with some of the most prominent features OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 249 of their character, and now and then a solitary picture of their most preposterous eccentricities. I have before observed that, among the distinguished characteristics of the people of this logocracy, is their invincible love of talking ; and that I could compare the nation to nothing but a mighty windmill. Thou art doubtless at a loss to conceive how this mill is sup- plied with grist ; or, in other words, how it is possible to furnish subjects to supply the perpetual exercise of so many tongues. The genius of the nation appears in its highest lustre in this particular, in the discovery, or rather the ap- plication, of a subject which seems to supply an inex- haustible mine of words. It is nothing more, my friend, than potirics; a word, which, I declare to thee, has perplexed me almost as much as the re- doubtable one of economy. On consulting a dic- tionary 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 themselves there could not be a more important subject of in- vestigation. I therefore listened attentively, expecting to hear from “ the most enlightened 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 himself; but alas, Asem ! how continually are my expectations disappointed : 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 insig- 250 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS nificant individuals. It embraces alike all manner of concerns ; from the organization of a divan, the elec- tion 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 per- tinacity, 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 talking politics: nay, it is but a few days since, that I was. annoyed by a debate between two of my fellow-lodgers, who were magnanimously employed in condemning a luckless wight to infamy, because he had worn a red ~ coat, and had entertained certain erroneous opinions some thirty years before. Shocked at their illiberal and vindictive spirit, I rebuked them for thus indulging in slander and uncharitableness, about 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 exerting that liberty of speech, and freedom of discussion, which was the glory and safeguard of their national independence. “OQ Mahomet!” thought I, “ what a country must that be, which builds its political safety on the ruin of characters and the persecution of individuals !” Into what transports of surprise and incredulity am I continually betrayed, as the character of this eccentric people gradually developes itself to my observation ! Every new research increases the perplexities in, which I am involved, and I am more than ever at a loss OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 251 where to place them in the scale of my estimation. It is thus the philosopher—in pursuing truth through the labyrinth of doubt, error, and misrepresentation— frequently finds himself bewildered in the mazes of contradictory experience; and almost wishes he could quietly retrace his wandering steps, steal back into the path of honest ignorance, and jog on once more in contented indifference. How fertile in these contradictions is this extensive _ logocracy! Men of different nations, manners, and languages, live here in the most perfect harmony ; and nothing is more common than to see individuals, whose respective governments are at variance, taking each other by the hand and exchanging the offices of friendship. Nay, even on the subject of religion, in which, as it affects our dearest interests, our earliest opinions and prejudices, some warmth and_heart- burnings might be excused; which, even in our en- lightened country, is so fruitful in difference between man and man—even religion occasions no dissension among these people; and it has even been asserted, by one of their sages, that believing in one God or twenty 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 Egyptian his stork—and the Mussulman practise, unmolested, the divine precepts of our immortal prophet. Nay, even the forlorn, abandoned atheist, who lies down at might without committing himself to the protection of Heaven, and ~ rises in the morning without returning thanks for his safety—-who hath no deity but his own will—whose 252 WHIM-WHAMS AND. OPINIONS soul, like the sandy desert, is barren of every flower of hope to throw a solitary bloom over its sterility, and soften the wide extent of desolation—whose darkened views extend not beyond the horizon 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 emotion than pity or contempt. But this mild and tolerating spirit reaches not beyond the pale of reli- gion: once differ in politics, in mere theories, visions, and chimeras, the growth of interest, of folly, or mad- ness, 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 in- juries, on the part of the barbarians of the British islands, 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 in- juries. 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 insult: like the street women of this country, who, after a prodigious scolding, quietly sit down and fan themselves cool again as fast as pos- sible. But to return: the rage for talking has now, in consequence of the ageressions I alluded to, increased to a degree far beyond what I have observed hereto- fore. In the gardens of his Highness of Tripoli are fifteen thousand beehives, three hundred peacocks, » OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 255 and a prodigious number of parrots and baboons—and yet I declare to thee, Asem, that their buzzing, and squalling, and chattering, is nothing compared 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 think 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 calculated for the cure of his disease, and seem anxious to continue in the full enjoyment of their chattering epidemic.—'They alarm each other by dire- ful reports and fearful apprehensions: as I have seen a knot of old wives in this country entertain themselves with stories of ghosts and goblins until their imagina- tions were in a most agonizing panic. Every day be- gets some new tale, big with agitation; and the busy goddess, Rumour, to speak in the poetic language of the Christians, is constantly in motion. She mounts her rattling stage-waggon, and gallops about the coun- try, freighted with a load of ‘“ hints,” “‘ informations,” ‘“‘ extracts of letters from respectable gentlemen,” * ob- servations, of respectable correspondents,” and “ un- questionable authorities,” which her high priests, the slang-whangers, retail to their sapient followers, with all the solemnity and all the authenticity of oracles. For in this country every man adopts some particular slang-whanger as his standard of judgment, and reads 954 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS every thing he writes, if he reads nothing else; which is doubtless the reason why the people of this logocracy are so marvellously enlightened. True it is, the un- fortunate slang-whangers are sometimes at a loss for food to supply the insatiable appetite for their dis- ciples; and are, not unfrequently, reduced to the ne- cessity of manufacturing dishes suited to the taste of the times, to be served up as morning and evening repasts. Politics is a kind of mental food that is soon digested ; it is thrown up again the moment it is swallowed. Let but one of these quidnunces take in an idea through eye or ear, and it immediately issues out at his mouth—he begins to talk. No sooner, therefore, is a politician full charged with the rumours [ have mentioned, but his tongue is in motion: he sallies forth to give it exercise, and woe to every one he encounters. He is like one charged with electricity; present but a knuckle, and you draw a spark. Now it is a thousand to one that every person he meets is just as highly charged as him- self, with the self-same rumours too, and fully as eager to give them vent. ‘The only difference is, that as each goes according to the doctrine of his respective slang- whanger, their views of every subject 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 unim- proved. They sometimes begin with argument, but in process of time, as the tongue waxes wanton, other auxiliaries become necessary—recrimination commences —reproach follows close at its heels—from political abuse they proceed to personal, and thus often is a friendship of years trampled down by this contemptible OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 2oOo enemy, this gigantic dwarf of rpotirics—the mongrel issue of groveling ambition and aspiring ignorance ! There would be but little 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 warning ever after against future mtemper- ance; 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 family and kindred. ‘The convivial table is disturbed—the cheer- ful fire-side is invaded—the smile of social hilarity is chased away—the bond of social love is broken by the everlasting intrusion of this fiend of contention, who lurks in the sparkling bowl, crouches by the fire-side, growls in the friendly circle, infests every avenue to pleasure; and like an incubus, sits scowling on the bosom of seciety, 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 in- heritance.” ‘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- summate scoundrels that ever crept from the brain of a political juggler—a fellow who thrusts his hand into the pocket of honest industry, or enterprising talent, and squanders 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 956 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 necessities of their fellow crea- tures. ‘These advantages will inevitably 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 by the merits of their ancestors, above the common level. In ana- tion possessed of quick feelings and impetuous passions, this hostility might engender deadly broils and bloody commotions: but in this nation of quick tongues it merely vents itself in wordy riots, in assassinations of character, and what is termed murder of the king’s English. | I cannot help smiling sometimes to see the solicitude with which the people of America, so called from the country having 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 dependents, are at all interested in the event ; and that the people at large will not find their situation 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- whangers, who insist that their own party is composed of the true sovereign people; and that the others are OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 257 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 ima- gine, considering that it is not many years since this very people were engaged in a revolution, the failure of which would have subjected them to the same igno- minious epithet, and a participation 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, how- ever, to the event of the election.—The people tri- umphed ; and much good has it done them. I, for my part, expected to see wonderful 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 [ declare to thee, that every thing remains exactly in the 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 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 may possess, in com- pliance with immemorial custom, they will abuse, ca- lumniate, and trample under foot. Such, my dear Asem, is the way in which the wise S 958 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 light on thee, good Asem; ever while thou livest, be true to thy Pro- phet; and rejoice, that, though the boasting political chatterers of this logocracy cast upon thy countrymen the ignominious epithet of slaves, thou livest im a country where the people, instead of being at the mercy of a tyrant with a million of heads, have but to submit to the will of a bashaw of only three tails. Ever thine, MustTarna. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 259 COCKLOFT HALL. BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. THOosE who pass their time immured in the smoke of the city, amid the rattling of carts, the brawling of the multitude, and the variety of unmeaning and dis- cordant sounds that prey insensibly upon the nerves, and beget a weariness of the spirits, can alone under- stand and feel that expansion of the heart, that phy- sical 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 sun-set, 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 im 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 woodman’s axe from the opposite shore, seem to partake of the softness of the scene, and fall tunefully upon the ear; while the voice of the villager, chanting some rustic ballad, swells s2 260 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS from a distance, in the semblance of the very music of harmonious love. At such time I am conscious of the influence of nature upon the heart. I cast my eyes around, all is serene and beautiful; the sweet tranquillity, the hal- lowed calm, settle upon my soul. No jarring chord vibrates in my bosom; every angry passion is at rest ; I am at peace with the whole world, and hail all man- kind 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 ministering angel !—surely man was desigued 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 realized ! A whole legion of reflections like these insinuated themselves into my mind, and stole me from the in- fluence of the cold realities 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, which 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 trans- ported from the region 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 transi- tions, which are prompted by the quick impulse of the. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 261 moment ;—’tis the only mode of guarding against that intruding and deadly foe to all parties of pleasure,— anticipation. Having now made good my retreat, until the black frost 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 introduction to my present residence. { do this as much to gratify them as myself; well know- ing a reader is always anxious to learn how his author is lodged, whether in a garret or.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 devil! it is often the only gratifica- tion 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 people the face of the earth. Pindar whimsically denominates it the family hive! and there is at least as much truth as hu- mour in my cousin’s epithet;—for many a redundant swarm has it produced. I don’t recollect whether I have at any time mentioned to my readers, for I sel- dom look back on what I have written, that the fertility of the Cockloftsis 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 back-gammon, they seldom fail ‘to throw doublets every time.” I myself have known three or four very industrious young men reduced to great ex- ‘tremities, by 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. 262 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS But to return to the hall.—It is pleasantly situated - on the bank of a sweet pastoral stream; not so near town as to invite an inundation of unmeaning, idle ac- quaintance, 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 was 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 fourscore: but this was a com- mon 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 forgotten that 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 shingle 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 thing ; and scarcely had he a roof over his head, when he dis- covered 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 263 mind ; anda 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; for he was de- termined, 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 like 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 grandfather 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 di- stance from the 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 use- less 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 delightful 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. 2964 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS © Let no one ridicule the whim-whams of my grand- father. If—and of this there is no doubt, for wise men have said it—if life be 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 like himself, who gloried in observing the golden rules of hospitality; which, according to.the Cockloft prin- ciple, consist in giving a guest the freedom of the house, cramming him with beefand pudding, and, if possible, laying him under the table with prime Port, Claret, or Madeira. ‘The mansion appears to have been con- secrated to the jolly god, and abounds with monuments sacred to conviviality. Every chest of drawers, clothes- press, and cabinet, is decorated with enormous china punch-bowls, which Mrs. Cockloft has paraded with much ostentation, particularly in her favourite red da- mask bed-chamber, and in which a projector might with great satisfaction practise his experiments on fleets, diving-bells, and sub-marine boats. I have before mentioned cousin Christopher’s pro- found veneration 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, mahogany chairs, that always remind me of the formal long- waisted belles, who flourished in stays and pape about the time they were in fashion. If I may judge from their height, it was not the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 265 fashion for gentlemen in those days to loll 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 Wi- zard declares that he saw a little 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 Will is much addicted to hyperbole, by reason of his having been a great tra- veller. But what the Cocklofts more especially pride them- selves upon is the possession of several family portraits, which exhibit as honest a set of square portly well fed looking gentlemen, and gentlewomen, as ever grew and flourished under the pencil of a Dutch painter. Old Christopher, who is a complete genealogist, has a story to tell of each; and dilates with copious 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 celebrated for a beautiful arm: but much as I reverence my illustrious ancestors, I find little to ad- mire in their biography, except my cousin’s excellent memory ; which is most provokingly retentive of every uninteresting particular. _ Myallotted chamber in the hall is the same that was occupied in days of yore by my honoured uncle John. The room exhibits many memorials which recal to my remembrance the solid excellence and amiable eccentri- cities of that gallant old lad. Over the mantelpiece hangs the portrait of a young lady dressed in a flaring, long-waisted, blue silk gown; be-flowered, and be-fur- 266 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS belowed, and be-cuffed, in a most abundant manner ; she holds in one hand a book, which she very com- plaisantly 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 little dog, a monkey, or a pigeon, must be left to the judgment of future commentators.—This little damsel, tradition says, was my uncle John’s third flame; and he would infallibly 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 Columbine; and my uncle, failing in the point, took a lucky thought, and with great gallantry ran off with her picture, which he con- veyed 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 his chi- valric manceuvre; always chuckled, and pulled up his stock when he contemplated the picture, and never related the exploit without winding up—“ I might, indeed, have carried off the original, had I chose to dangle a little 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 tempera- ment ;—I would give half I am worth for his talent at self-consolation. The Miss Cocklofts have made several spirited at- tempts to introduce modern furniture into the hall, but with very indifferent success. Modern style has always been an object of great annoyance to honest Christopher, and 1s ever treated by him with sovereign OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 267 contempt, as an upstart intruder. It is a common ob- servation of his, that your old-fashioned substantial furniture bespeaks the respectability of one’s ancestors,, and indicates that the family has been used to hold up its head for more than the present generation ; whereas the fragile appendages of modern style seem to be emblems of mushroom gentility; and, to his mind, predict that the family dignity will moulder away and vanish with its transient finery. The same whim-wham makes him averse to having 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. In- deed, so far does he carry his veneration for 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 from his ancient inheritance, without groaning; and I once saw him in a transport of passion on Jeremy’s knocking down a mouldering martin-coop, with his tennis-ball, which had been set up in the latter days of my grand- father. 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 broken 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 were out of the way, the old gentleman would forget the whole affair; which would be a great pity. The old tree has long since ceased bearing, and is exceedingly infirm ;— 268 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS every tempest robs it of a limb; and one would sup- pose, 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 gar- dener to saw it off. I shall never forget the old man’s answer, and the look that accompanied 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 amuse- ment, 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 boyhood, ere his heart grew heavy and his head waxed gray; and to dwell with fond affection on the friends who have twined themselves round his heart—mingled in all his enjoyments—contributed to all his felicities? If there be any who cannot relish OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 269 these enjoyments, let them despair—for they have been so soiled in their intercourse with the world as to be incapable 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 ad- dress this simple family picture ; and in 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 effusion of Will Wizard, that he still retained that pestilent hankering after puns of which we lately con- victed him. He, however, declares 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 uni- versal prevalence of the influenza, has encouraged the chieftain of our dramatic corps to marshal his forces, and commence the campaign 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 270 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS quarters, committed 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 destroyed much of their camp equipage, besides spoiling the best part of their 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, have been entirely washed away; and the sea has become very wet and mouldy—insomuch that great apprehensions are enter- tained that it will never be dry enough for use. Add to this, the noble County Paris had the misfortune to tear his corduroy breeches in the scuffle with Romeo, 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 re- spective houses. In spite of these disadvantages and untoward circumstances, they have continued to enact _ most intrepidly—performing with much ease and con- fidence, inasmuch as they were seldom pestered with an audience to criticise and put them out of countenance. It is rumoured that the last heavy shower has absolutely dissolved the company, and that our manager has no- thing further to apprehend 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 of ivory, the sea mother-of-pearl, the skies gold and silver leaf, and the outside of the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 271 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 fills his book with, and which I defy the most intelligent archi- tect, even the great Sir Christopher Wren, to under- stand. I had jumbled cornices, and pilasters, and pillars, and capitals, and triglyphs, and modules, and plinths, and volutes, and perspectives, and fore-shortenings, helter-skelter ; and had set all the orders of architecture, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, &c. 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 consented to oblige him, and have left my description at the office of our publisher, where any person may see it, provided he applies at a proper hour. I cannot refrain here from giving vent to the satis- faction I received from the excellent performances of the different actors, one and all; and particularly the gentlemen who shifted the scenes, who acquitted them- selves throughout with great celerity, dignity, pathos, and effect. Nor must I pass over the peculiar merits of my friend Joun, who gallanted off the chairs and tables in the most dignified and circumspect manner. Indeed I have had frequent occasion to applaud the correctness with which this gentleman fulfils the parts allotted to him, and consider him as one of the best B72 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 for- ward and pushed it with his right hand, that being the method practised by his contemporaries of the royal theatres, and universally approved by their best critics. He also took exceptions to John’s coat, which he pro- nounced too short by a foot at least—particularly when he turned his back to the company. But I look upon these objections in the same light as new readings, and insist that John shall be allowed to manceuvre his chairs and table, shove his rocks, and wear his skirts in that style which his genius best affects. My hopes in the 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 exhibitions of this season as splendid as possible. Several expert rat-catchers have been sent into different parts of the country to catch white mice for the grand pantomime of Cinderella. A nest-full of little squab Cupids have been taken in the neighbourhood of Com- munipaw: 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, like little 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 LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Q73 of one of the most portly pumpkins in New-England ; and the public may be assured there is now one on board a vessel from Newhaven, which will contain 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-drames—of which a number are to be played off this winter. It is further- more whispered me, that the great thunder-drum has been new-braced, and an expert performer on that instrument engaged, who will thunder in plain English, 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 Signior Da Ponte could understand him. It will be a farther gratification to the patriotic audience to know, that the present thun- derer is a fellow-countryman, born at Dunderberg among the echoes of the highlands; and that he thun- ders with peculiar emphasis and pompous enunciation, in the true style of a Fourth of July orator. In addition to all 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 manufactured last August. N.B. The outside of the theatre has been ornamented with a new chimney !! Q7T4 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XV.—THURSDAY, ocToBER 1, 1807, SKETCHES FROM NATURE. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Tue 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 scudded 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 fa- mily of the Cocklofts, whom I found safe burrowed 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 mel- low, considering it a wilful outrage on the sanctity of imperial mind, a senseless abuse of the body, and an OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. R15 unpardonable, because a voluntary, prostration of both mental and personal dignity. I have heard him mo- ralize on the subject, in a style that would have done honour to Michael Cassio himself: but I believe, if the truth were known, this antipathy rather arises from his having, as the phrase is, but a weak head, and nerves so extremely sensitive, that he is sure to suffer severely from a frolic; and will groan and make re- solutions against it for a week afterwards. He there- fore 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 fort- night, and appeared to be meditating some deep plan of retaliation upon his mischievous old crony. He had, however, for the last day or two, shown some sym- ptoms of convalescence; had listened, without more than half a dozen twitches of impatience, to one of Christopher’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 fre- quent repetition, the old gentleman now firmly believes 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 fantastical 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 carvings of true lovers’ knots, hearts, darts, names, and inscriptions !—frail memorials of the variety of the fair dames who captivated the wandering fancy of TR 276 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS that old cavalier in the days of his youthful romance. Launcelot holds this tree in particular regard, as he does every thing else connected with the memory of his good uncle John. He was reclining, in one of his usual brown studies, against its trunk, and gazing pen- sively upon the river that glided just by, washing 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, which 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. “T 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. Renewing our ac- quaintance with well-known but long separated objects revives, it is true, the recollection of former pleasures, and touches the tenderest feelings of the heart; as the flavour of a delicious beverage will remain upon the palate long after the cup has parted from the lips. But, on the other hand, my friend, these same ob- jects are too apt to awaken us to a keener recollection of what we were when they once delighted us; and to provoke a mortifying and melancholy contrast with what we are at present. They act, in a manner, as mile-stones of existence, showing us how far we have travelled in the journey of life;—how much of OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. QT7 “our weary but fascinating pilgrimage is accomplished. I look round me, and my eye fondly recognises the fields I once sported over, the river in which I once ‘swam, and the orchard I intrepidly robbed in the haleyon days of boyhood. The fields are still green, the river still rolls unaltered 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 climb 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 his 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 unreasonable fits of melancholy abstrac- tion, | proposed a walk:—he consented, -and slipped his left arm in mine; and waving in the other a gold- headed thorn cane, bequeathed him by his uncle John, we slowly rambled along the margin of the river. Langstaff, though possessing great vivacity of tem- per, 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 slippery 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 decking them in imaginary finery, with the spoils of 278 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS his fancy : like a good widow lady, regretting the loss of the “ poor dear man ;” for whom, while living, she cared not arush. 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. Ina similar humour was Laun- celot at 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 little importance at Cockloft-hall : —for, to let my readers into a family secret, friend Christopher is notoriously henpecked by an old negro, who has whitened on the place, and is his master, almanack, and counsellor. My readers, 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 has 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 Cesar, 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, absolute lord and ruler of the soil. As he passed us, he pulled off his hat with an air of something more than respect ;—it partook, I thought, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 279 of affection. “ There, now, is another memento of the kind I have been noticing,” said Launcelot; “Cesar 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 Cesar. He was particularly adroit in making our quail-traps and fishing-rods ; was always the ringleader in the schemes of frolicksome mischief perpetrated by the urchins of the neighbourhood ; considered himself on an equality 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, hud- dled together on the steps of the Hall door, Cesar, 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 sparking among the rosy country girls of the neigh- bouring farms; and brought up the rear at every rustic dance, when he would mingle in the sable group that always thronged the door of merriment; and it was enough to put to the rout a host of splenetic imps to see his mouth gradually dilate from ear to ear, with pride and exultation, at seeing how neatly master Pindar footed it over the floor. Czesar was likewise the chosen confidant and special agent of Pindar in all his love affairs, until, as his evil stars would have it, on being entrusted with the delivery of a poetic billet-doux to one of his patron’s sweethearts, he took an unlucky notion to send it to his own sable dul- 280 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS cinea ; who, not being able to read it, took it to her mistress ;—and so the whole affair was blown. Pindar was universally roasted, and Ceesar discharged for ever from his confidence. “ Poor Cesar!—he has now grown old, like his young masters, but he still remembers old times; and will, now and then, remind me of them as he lights me to my room, and lingers a little while to bid me a good night ;—believe me, my dear Evergreen, the honest simple old creature has a warm corner in my heart; I don’t see, for my part, why a body may not like a negro as well as a white man !” By the time these biographical anecdotes were ended we had reached the stable, into which we involuntarily strolled, and found Cesar busily employed in rubbing down the horses—an office he would not entrust to any body else; having contracted an affection for every beast in the stable, from their being descendants of the old race of animals, his youthful contemporaries. Cesar was very particular in giving us their pedigrees, together with a panegyric on the swiftness, bottom, blood, and spirit of their sires. From these he di- gressed into a variety of anecdotes in which Launcelot bore a conspicuous part, and on which the old negro dwelt with all the garrulity of age. Honest Langstaff stood leaning with his arm over the back of his fa- vourite steed, old Killdeer; and I could perceive he listened to Ceesar’s simple details with that fond ‘at- tention with which a feeling heart will hang over nar- ratives of boyish days. His eye sparkled with ani- mation, a glow of youthful fire stole across his pale visage ;—he nodded with smiling approbation at every sentence—chuckled at every exploit; laughed heartily OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 281 at the story of his once having smoked out a country singing-school with brimstone and assafcetida; and slipping a piece of money into old Cesar’s hand to buy himself a new tobacco-box, he seized me by the arm, and hurried out of the stable brimfull of good- nature. “ Tis a pestilent old rogue for talking, my dear fellow,” cried he; “but you must not find fault with him; the creature means well.” I knew, at the very moment that he made this apology, honest Czesar could not have given him half the satisfaction had he talked like a Cicero or a Solomon. Launcelot returned to the house with me in the best possible humour :—the whole family, who in truth love and honour him from their very souls, were delighted to see the sun-beams once more play in his countenance. Every one seemed to vie who should talk the most, tell the longest stories, and be most agreeable; and Will Wizard, who had accompanied me in my visit, de- clared as he lighted his cigar, which had gone out forty times in the course of one of his oriental tales, that he had not passed so pleasant an evening since the birth-night ball of the beauteous empress of Hayti. 982 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS ON GREATNESS. BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. [The following essay was written by my friend Langstaff, in one of the paroxysms of his splenetic complaint ; and, for aught I know, may have been effectual in restoring him to good humour.—A mental discharge of the kind has a re- markable tendency towards sweetening the temper,—and Launcelot is at this moment one of the best-natured men in existence.—A. Evergreen. ] _ We have more than once, in the course of our work, been most jocosely familiar with great personages; and, in truth, treated them with as little ceremony, respect, and consideration, as if they had been our most particular friends. Now, we would not suffer the mortification of having our readers even suspect us of an intimacy of the kind; assuring them we are extremely choice in our intimates, and uncommonly circumspect in avoiding connexions with all doubtful characters ; particularly pimps, bailiffs, lottery-brokers, chevaliers of industry, and great men. The world in general is pretty well aware of what is to be under- stood by the former classes of delinquents; but as the latter has never, I believe, been specifically defined, and as we are determined to instruct our readers, to the extent of our abilities and their limited compre- hension, it may not be amiss here to let them know what we understand by a great man. First, therefore, let us (editors and kings are always plural) premise, that there are two kinds of greatness ; —one conferred by Heaven—the exalted nobility of OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 283 the soul ;—the other, a spurious distinction, engen- dered by the mob, and lavished upon its favourites. The former of these distinctions we have already con- templated with reverence; the latter we will take this opportunity to strip naked before our unenlightened readers; so that if by chance any of them are held in ignominious thraldom by this base circulation of false coin, they may forthwith emancipate themselves from such inglorious delusion. It is a fictitious value given to midieauals by public caprice, as bankers give an impression to a worthless slip of paper; thereby gaining it a currency for in- finitely more than its intrinsic value. Every nation has its peculiar coin, and peculiar great men; neither of which will, for the most part, pass current out of the country where they are stamped. Your true mob- created great man is like a note of one of the little New-England banks, and his value depreciates in pro- portion to the distance from home. In England, a great man is he who has most ribands and gew-gaws on his coat, most horses to his carriage, most servants in his retinue, or most toad-eaters at his table; in France, he who can most dexterously flourish his heels above his head—Duport is most incontestably the greatest man in France !—-when the Emperor is absent. The greatest man in China is he who can trace his an- cestry up to the moon; and in this country our great men may generally hunt down their pedigree until it burrow in the dirt like a rabbit. 'To be concise; our great men are those who are most expert at crawling, and have the happiest facility in dragging and winding themselves along in the dirt like very reptiles. This 984 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS may seem a paradox to many of my readers, who, with great good-nature be it hinted, are too stupid to look beyond the mere surface of our invaluable writings; and often pass over the knowing allusion, and poignant meaning, that is slyly couching beneath. It is for the benefit of such helpless ignorants, who have no other creed but the opinion of the mob, that I shall trace, as far as it is possible to follow him in his ascent from in- significance,—the rise, progress, and completion of a little great man. In a logocracy, to use the sage Mustayhe’s phrase, it is not absolutely necessary to the formation of a great man that he should be either wise or valiant, upright or honourable. On the contrary, daily ex- perience shows that these qualities rather impede his preferment; inasmuch as they are prone to render him too inflexibly erect, and are directly at variance with that willowy suppleness which enables a man to wind, and twist, through all the nooks and turns, and dark winding passages, that lead to greatness. ‘The grand -requisite for climbing the rugged hill of po- pularity,—the summit of which is the seat of power,— is to be useful. And here once more, for the sake of our readers, who are of course not so wise as ourselves, — I must explain what we understand by usefulness. The horse, in his native state, is wild, swift, impetuous, full of majesty, and of a most generous spirit. It is then the animal is noble, exalted, and useless. But entrap him, manacle him, cudgel him, break down his lofty spirit, put the curb into his mouth, the load upon his back, and render him obedient to the bridle and the lash, and it is then he becomes useful. Your OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 285 jackass is one of the most useful animals in existence. If my readers do not now understand what I mean by usefulness, I give them all up for most absolute nincoms. To rise in this country a man must. first descend. The aspiring politician may be compared to that in- defatigable insect called the tumbler, pronounced by a distinguished personage to be the only industrious animal in Virginia; which buries itself in filth, and works ignobly in the dirt, until it forms a little ball, which it rolls laboriously along, like Diogenes his tub; sometimes head, sometimes tail foremost, pilfermg from every rat and mud hole, and increasing its ball of great- ness by the contributions of the kennel. Just so the can- didate for greatness ;—he plunges himself in the mob; labours in dirt and oblivion, and makes unto himself the rudiments of a popular name from the admiration and praises of the vulgar. His name once started, onward he goes struggling and puffing, and pushing it before him; collecting new tributes from the dregs and offals of society as he proceeds, until having gathered together a mighty mass of popularity, he mounts it in triumph; is hoisted into office, and becomes a great man, and a ruler in the land.—All this will be clearly illustrated by a sketch of a worthy of the kind, who sprang up under my eye, and was hatched from the dirt by the broad rays of popularity, which, like the sun, can * breed maggots in a dead dog.” Timothy Dabble was a young man of very promising talents; for he wrote a fair hand, and had thrice won the silver medal at a country academy; he was also an orator, for he talked with emphatic volubility, and could argue a full hour, without taking either side, 986 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS or advancing a single opinion. He had still farther requisites for eloquence; for he made very handsome gestures, had dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, and enunciated most harmoniously through his nose. In short, nature had certainly marked him out for a great man; for though he was not tall, yet he added at least half an inch to his stature by elevating his head, and assumed an amazing expression of dignity by turning up his nose and curling his nostrils in a style of conscious superiority. Convinced by these unequivocal appearances, Dabble’s friends, one and all, declared that he was undoubtedly born to be a great man, and it would be his own fault if he were not one. Dabble was tickled with an opinion which coincided so happily with his own,—for vanity, in a confidential whisper, had given him the like intima- tion; and he reverenced the judgment of his friends because they thought so highly of himself ;—accor- dingly he set out with a determination to become a ereat man, and to start in the scrub-race for honour and renown. How to attain the desired prize was however the question. He knew, by a kind of in- stinctive feeling, which seems peculiar to groveling minds, that honour, and its better part—profit, would never seek him out; that they would never knock at his door and crave admittance; but must be courted, and toiled after, and earned. He therefore strutted forth into the highways, the market-places, and the assemblies of the people; ranted like a true cockerel orator about virtue, patriotism, and liberty, and equa- lity, and himself. Full many a political windmill did he battle with ; and full many a time did he talk himself out of breath, and his hearers out of their pa- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ, - 287 tience. But Dabble found, to his vast astonishment, that there was not a notorious political pimp at a ward meeting but could out-talk him ;—and what was still more mortifying, there was not a notorious political pimp but was more noticed and caressed than himself. The reason was simple enough; while he harangued about principles, the others ranted about men; where he reprobated a political error, they blasted a political character :—they were, consequently, the most useful ; for the great object of our political disputes is not, who shall have the honour of emancipating the community from the leading-strings of delusion, but who shall have the profit of holding the strings and leading the community by the nose. Dabble was likewise very loud in his professions of integrity, incorruptibility, and disinterestedness ; words which, from being filtered and refined through news- papers and election hand-bills, have lost their original signification; and in the political dictionary are syno- nymous with empty pockets, itching palms, and in- terested ambition. He, in addition to all this, declared that he would support none but honest men; but un- luckily as but few of these offered themselves to be supported, Dabble’s services were seldom required. He pledged himself never to engage in party schemes, or party politics, but to stand up solely for the broad interests of his country—so he stood alone; and what is the same thing, he stood still; for, in this country, he who does not side with either party is like a body in a vacuum between two planets, and must for ever remain motionless. Dabble was immeasurably surprised that a man so honest, so disinterested, and so sagacious withal, and 2988 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS one too who had the good of his country so much at heart, should thus remain unnoticed and unapplauded. A little worldly advice, whispered in his ear by a shrewd old politician, at once explained the whole mystery. ‘‘ He who would become great,” said he, ‘* must serve an apprenticeship to greatness; and rise by regular gradation, like the master of a yessel, who - commences by being scrub and cabin-boy. He must fag in the train of great men, echo all their sentiments, become their toad-eater and parasite, laugh at all their jokes; and above all, endeavour to make them laugh: if you only make a man laugh now and then, your fortune ismade. Look but about you, youngster, and you will not see a single little great man of the day but has his miserable herd of retainers, who yelp at his heels, come at his whistle, worry whoever he points his finger at, and think themselves fully rewarded by some- times snapping up a crum that falls from the great man’s table. Talk of patriotism and virtue, and incor- ruptibility !—tut, man! they are the very qualities that scare munificence, and keep patronage at a distance. You might as well attempt to entice crows with red rags and gunpowder. Lay all these scarecrow virtues aside, and let this be your maxim, that a candidate for political eminence is like a dried herring; he never becomes luminous until he is corrupt.” Dabble caught with hungry avidity these congenial doctrines, and turned into his predestined channel of ' action with the force and rapidity of a stream which has for a while been restrained from its natural course. He became what nature had fitted him to be;—his tone softened down from arrogant self-sufficiency to the whine of fawning solicitation. He mingled in the ga- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 289 therings of the sovereign people; assumed a patriotic slovenliness of dress; argued most logically with those who were of his own opinion; and slandered, with all the malice of impotence, exalted characters whose orbit he despaired ever to approach :—just as that scoundrel midnight thief, the owl, hoots at the blessed light of the sun, whose glorious lustre he dares never contem- plate. He likewise applied himself to discharging faithfully the honourable duties of a partizan; he poached about for private slanders, and ribald anec- dotes; he folded hand-billk—he even wrote one or two himself, which he carried about in his pocket and read to every body; he became a secretary at ward- meetings, set his hand to divers resolutions of patriotic import, and even once went so far as to make a speech, in which he proved that patriotism was a virtue ;— the reigning bashaw a great man;—that this was a free country, and he himself an arrant and incontestable buzzard ! Dabble was now very frequent and devout in his visits to those temples of politics, popularity, and smoke, the ward porter-houses; those true dens of equality, where all ranks, ages, and talents, are brought down to the dead level of rude familiarity.—’ Twas here his talents expanded, and his genius swelled up into its proper size; like the loathsome toad, which shrinking from balmy airs, and jocund sunshine, finds his congenial home in caves and dungeons, and there nourishes his venom, and bloats his deformity. "T'was here he revelled with the swinish multitude in their debauches on patriotism and porter; and it became an even chance whether Dabble would turn out a great man or a great drunkard—But Dabble in all this U 290 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS kept steadily in his eye the only deity he ever wor- shipped—his interest. Having by this familiarity in- gratiated himself with the mob, he became wonderfully potent and industrious at elections; knew all the dens and cellars of profligacy and intemperance; brought more negroes to the polls, and knew to a greater cer- tainty where votes could be bought for beer, than any of his contemporaries. His-exertions in the cause, his persevering industry, his degrading compliance, his unresisting humility, his stedfast dependence, at length caught the attention of one of the leaders of the party ; who was pleased to observe that Dabble was a very useful fellow, who would go all lengths. From that moment his fortune was made;—he was hand and glove with orators and slang-whangers; basked in the sun- shine of great men’s smiles, and had the honour, sundry times, of shaking hands with dignitaries—during elections ! ! I will not fatigue myself with tracing this caterpillar in his slimy progress from worm to butterfly ; suffice it that Dabble bowed and bowed, and fawned, and sneaked, and smirked, and libelled, until one would. have thought perseverance itself would have settled down into despair. There was no knowing how long he might have lingered at a distance from his hopes, had he not luckily been tarred and feathered for some of his electioneering manceuvres—this was the making of him! Let not my readers stare—tarring and feathering here is equal to pillory and cropped ears in England; and either of these kinds of martyrdom will ensure a patriot the sympathy and suffrages of a faction. His partizans, for even he had his partizans, took his case into consideration—he had been kicked OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 291 and cuffed, and disgraced, and dishonoured in the cause—he had licked the dust at the feet of the mob— he was a faithful drudge, slow to anger, of invincible patience, of incessant assiduity—a thorough going tool, who could be curbed, and spurred, and directed at pleasure—in short, he had all the important qualifica- tions for a little great man, and he was accordingly ushered into office amid the acclamations of the party. The leading men complimented his usefulness, the multitude his republican simplicity, and the slang- whangers vouched for his patriotism. Since his eleva- tion he has discovered indubitable signs of having been destined for a great man. His nose has acquired an additional elevation of several degrees, so that now he appears to have bidden adieu to this world, and to have set his thoughts altogether on things above ; and he has swelled and inflated himself to such a de- gree, that his friends are under apprehensions that he will one day or other explode and blow up like a torpedo. rig 202 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XVI.—THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 18077. STYLE, AT BALLSTON. BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. NotwitHsTaNbiIna Evergreen has never been abroad, nor had his understanding enlightened, or his views enlarged by that marvellous sharpener of the wits, a salt-water voyage, yet he is tolerably shrewd and cor- rect, in the limited sphere of his observations ; and now and then astounds me with a right pithy remark, which would do no discredit even to a man who had made the grand tour. In several late conversations at Cockloft-hall, he has: amused us exceedingly by detailing sundry particulars. concerning that notorious slaughter-house of time, Ballston Springs, where he spent a considerable part of the last summer. The following is a summary of his observations. Pleasure has passed through a variety of significa- tions at Ballston. It originally meant nothing more than a relief from pain and sickness; and the patient who had journeyed many a weary mile to the Springs, with a heavy heart and emaciated form, called it plea- sure when he threw by his crutches, and danced away from them with renovated spirits, and limbs jocund with vigour. In process of time pleasure underwent a refinement, and appeared in the likeness of a sober un- ceremonious country-dance, to the flute of an amateur, or the three-stringed fiddle of an itinerant country mu- sician. Still every thing bespoke that happy holiday OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 295 which the spirits ever enjoy, when emancipated from the shackles of formality, ceremony, and modern polite- ness: things went on cheerily, and Ballston was pro- nounced a charming hum-drum careless place of resort, where every one was at his ease, and might follow un- molested the bent of his humour—provided his wife was not there; when, lo! all on a sudden Style made its baneful appearance in the semblance of a gig and tandem, a pair of leather breeches, a liveried footman, and a cockney! Since that fatal era, pleasure has taken an entire new signification, and at present means nothing but sTyLe. The worthy, fashionable, dashing, good-for-nothing people of every state, who had rather suffer the mar- tyrdom of a crowd than endure the monotony of their own homes, and the stupid company of their own thoughts, flock to the Springs; not to enjoy the pleasures of society, or benefit by the qualities of the waters, but to exhibit their equipages and wardrobes, and to excite the admiration, or what 1s much more ‘satisfactory, the envy of their fashionable competitors. This of course awakens a spirit of noble emulation between the eastern, middle, and southern states; and every lady hereupon finding herself charged in a manner with the whole weight of her country’s dignity and style, dresses and dashes, and sparkles, without mercy, at her competitors from other parts of the union. This kind of rivalship naturally requires a vast deal of preparation and prodigious quantities of supplies. A sober citizen’s wife will exhaust half a dozen milliners’ shops, and sometimes starve her family a whole season, to enable herself to make the Springs’ campaign in style. She repairs to the seat of war with a mighty 994. WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS force of trunks and bandboxes, like so many ammuni- tion chests, filled with caps, hats, gowns, ribands, shawls, and all the various artillery of fashionable warfare. The lady of a southern planter will lay out the whole annual produce of a rice plantation in silver and gold muslins, lace veils, and new liveries, carry a hogshead of tobacco on her head, and trail a bale of Sea Island cotton at her heels; while a lady of Boston or Salem will wrap herself up in the nett proceeds of a cargo of whale oil, and tie on her hat with a quintal of cod fish. The planters’ ladies, however, have generally the advantage in this contest; for as it is an incontestable fact, that whoever comes from the West or East Indies, or Georgia, or the Carolinas, or in fact any warm climate, is immensely rich, it cannot be expected that a simple cit of the north can cope with them in style. ‘The planter, therefore, who drives four horses abroad and a thousand negroes at home, and who flourishes up to the Springs followed by half a score of black-a-moors, in gorgeous liveries, is unquestionably superior to the northern merchant, who pleds on in a carriage and pair; which being nothing more than is quite necessary, has no claim whatever to style. He, however, has his consolation in feeling superior to the honest cit, who dashes about in a simple gig—he in re- turn sneers at the country squire, who jogs along with his scrubby long-eared pony and saddle-bags; and the squire, by way of taking satisfaction, would make no scruple to run over the unobtrusive pedestrian, were it not the last, being the most independent of the whole, might chance to break his head by way of retort. The great misfortune is, that this style is supported OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 295 at such an expense as sometimes to encroach on the rights and privileges of the pocket, and occasion very awkward embarrassments to the tyro of fashion. Among a number of instances, Evergreen mentions the fate of a dashing blade from the south, who made his entrée with a tandem and two outriders, by the aid of which he attracted the attention of all the ladies, and caused a coolness between several young couple who, it was thought before his arrival, had a considerable kindness for each other. In the course of a fortnight his tandem disappeared !—the class of good folk, who seem to have nothing to do in this world but pry into other people’s affairs, began to stare! in a little time longer an out- rider was missing !—this increased the alarm, and it was consequently whispered that he had eaten the horses and drank the negro.—N. B. Southern gentlemen are very apt to do this on an emergency.—Serious appre- hensions were entertained about the fate of the remain- ing servant, which were soon verified by his actually vanishing ; and in “ one little month” the dashing Caro- linian modestly took his departure in the stage coach ; —universally regretted by the friends who had gene- rously relieved him from his cumbrous load of style. Evergreen, in the course of his detail, gave very melancholy accounts of an alarming famine which raged with great violence at the Springs. Whether this was owing to the incredible appetites of the com- pany, or the scarcity which prevailed at the inns, he did not seem inclined to say; but he declares that he was for several days in imminent danger of starvation, owing to his being a little too dilatory in his attendance at the dinner-table. He relates a number of “ moving accidents,” which befel many of the polite company in 296 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS their zeal to get a good seat at dinner; on which occasior a kind of scrub-race always took place, wherein a vast deal of jockeying and unfair play was shown, and a variety of squabbles and unseemly altercations occurred. But when arrived at the scene of action, it was truly an awful sight to behold the confusion, and to hear the tumultuous uproar of voices crying out, some for one thing, and some for another, to the tuneful accompaniment of knives and forks, rattling with all the energy of hungry impatience.—The feast of the Centaurs and the Lapithe was nothing when compared with a dinner at the Great House. At one time, an old gentleman, whose natural irascibility was. a little sharpened by the gout, had scalded his throat, by gobbling down a bow! of hot soup in a vast hurry, in order to secure the first-fruits of a roasted partridge before it was snapped up by some hungry rival; when, just as he was whetting his knife and fork, preparatory for a descent on the promised land, he had the morti- fication to see it transferred, bodily, to the plate of a squeamish little damsel who was taking the waters for debility and loss of appetite. This was too much for the patience of old Crusty; he thrust his fork into the partridge, whipt it into his dish, and cutting off a wing of it—~ Permit me, Miss, to help you,” cried he, presenting the morsel—then growling to himself, as he despatched the remainder, ‘“‘ Oons! what should such a little chalky-faced puppet do with a whole par- tridge!”—At another time a mighty sweet disposed old dowager, who loomed most magnificently at the table, had a sauce-boat launched upon the capacious lap of a silver-sprigged muslin gown, by the ma- noeuvring of a little politic Frenchman, who was dex- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 2907 terously attempting tomakealodgment under thecovered way of a chicken-pie !—human nature could not bear it !~-the lady bounced round, and, with one box on the ear, drove the luckless wight to utter annihilation. But these little cross accidents are amply compen- sated by the great variety of amusements which abound at this charming resort of beauty and fashion.—In the morning the company, each like a jolly bacchanalian, with glass in hand, sally forth to the Springs: where the gentlemen, who wish to make themselves agreeable, have an opportunity of dipping themselves into the good opinion of the ladies: and it is truly delectable to see with what grace and adroitness they perform this ingratiating feat. Anthony says that it is peculiarly amazing to behold the quantity of water the ladies drink on this occasion, for the purpose of getting an appetite for breakfast. He assures me he has been present when a young lady, of unparalleled delicacy, tossed off, in the space of a minute or two, one and twenty tumblers and a wine-glass full. On my asking Anthony whether the solicitude of the by-standers was not greatly awakened as to what might be the effects of this debauch, he replied that the ladies of Ballston had become such great sticklers for the doctrine of evaporation, that. no gentleman ever ventured to re- monstrate against this excessive drinking for fear of bringing his. philosophy into contempt. The most notorious water-drinkers, in particular, were conti- nually holding forth on the surprising quickness with which the Ballston waters evaporated ; and several gentlemen, who had the hardihood to question this female philosophy, were held in high displeasure. 298 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS After breakfast, every one chooses his amusement ; some take a ride into the pine woods, and enjoy the varied and romantic scenery of burnt trees, post and rail fences, pine flats, potatoe patches, and log huts; others scramble up the surrounding sand hills, that look like the abodes of a gigantic race of ants; take a peep at other sand hills beyond them; and then— come down again: others who are romantic, and sundry young ladies insist upon being so whenever they visit the Springs, or go any where into the country, stroll along the borders of a little swampy brook that drags itself along like an Alexandrine, and that so lazily, as not to make a single murmur; watching the little tadpoles as they frolic, right flippantly, in the muddy stream, and listening to the inspiring melody of the harmonious frogs that croak upon its borders. Some play at billiards, some play the fiddle, and some—play the fool ;—the latter being the most prevalent amuse- ment at Ballston. These, together with abundance of dancing, and a prodigious deal of sleeping of afternoons, make up the variety of pleasures at the Springs ;—a delicious life of alternate lassitude and fatigue; of laborious dissipation, and listless idleness; of sleepless nights, and days spent in that dozing insensibility which ever succeeds them. Now and then, indeed, the influenza, the fever-and- ague, or some such pale-faced intruder, may happen to throw a momentary damp on the general felicity ; but on the whole, Evergreen declares that Ballston wants only six things; to wit, good air, good wine, good living, good beds, good company, and good humour, to be the most enchanting place in the world ;—ex- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFY, ESQ. 299 cepting Botany Bay, Musquito Cove, Dismal Swamp, and the Black Hole at Calcutta*. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, To Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. [ The following letter from the sage Mustapha has cost us more trouble to decypher and render into tolerable English than any hitherto pub- lished. It was full of blots and erasures, particularly the latter part, which we have no doubt was penned in a moment of great wrath and in- dignation. Mustapha has often a rambling mode of writing, and his thoughts take such unaccountable turns, that it is difficult to tell one mo- ment where he will lead you the next. This is particularly obvious in the commencement of his letters, which seldom bear much analogy to the subsequent parts ;—he sets off with a flourish, like a dramatic hero,—as- sumes an air of great pomposity, and struts up to his subject mounted most loftily on stilts.x—Z. Langstaff. | Amonc the variety of principles by which mankind are actuated, there is one, my dear Asem, which I scarcely know whether to consider as springing from grandeur and nobility of mind, or from a refined species of vanity and egotism. It is that singular, although almost universal, desire of living in the memory of posterity ; of occupying a share of the world’s attention, when we shall long since have ceased to be susceptible either of its praise or censure. Most of the passions of the mind are bounded by the grave; sometimes, * The British reader will have felt himself quite at home in the perusal of this essay, as its satire is just as applicable to the society of our fashion« able watering places as to the notables of Ballston.—Edit. 300 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS indeed, an anxious hope or trembling fear will venture beyond the clouds and darkness that rest upon our mortal horizon, and expatiate in boundless futurity ; but it is only this active love of fame which steadily contemplates its fruition, in the applause or gratitude of future ages.—Indignant at the narrow limits which circumscribe existence, ambition is for ever struggling to soar beyond them;—to triumph over .space and time, and to bear a name, at least, above the inevitable oblivion in which every thing else that concerns us must be involved. It is this, my friend, which prompts the patriot to his most heroic achievements ; which inspires the sublimest strains of the poet, and breathes ethereal fire into the productions of the painter and the statuary. For this the monarch rears the lofty column ; the laurelled conqueror claims the triumphal arch ; while the obscure individual, who has moved in an humbler sphere, asks but a plain and simple stone to mark his grave, and bear to the next generation this important truth, that he was born, died—and was buried. It was this passion which once erected the vast Numidian piles, whose ruins we have so often regarded with wonder, as the shades of evening—fit emblems of oblivion—gra- dually stoie over and enveloped them in darkness.— It was this which gave being to those sublime monu- ments of Saracenic magnificence, which nod in moulder- ing desolation, as the blast sweeps over our deserted plains—How futile are all our efforts to evade the obliterating hand of time! As I traversed the dreary wastes of Egypt, on my journey to Grand Cairo, I stopped my camel for a while, and contemplated, in awful admiration, the stupendous pyramids. An ap- palling silence prevailed around—such as reigns in the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 301 wilderness when the tempest is hushed, and the beasts of prey have retired to their dens. The myriads that had once been employed in rearing these lofty memen- toes of human vanity, whose busy hum once enlivened the solitude of the desert—had all been swept from the earth by the irresistible arm of death—all were mingled with their native dust—all were forgotten! Even the mighty names which these sepulchres were designed to perpetuate had long since faded from remembrance : history and tradition afforded but vague conjectures, and the pyramids imparted a humiliating lesson to the candidate for immortality.—Alas! alas! said I to my- self, how mutable are the foundations on which our proudest hopes of future fame are reposed! He who imagines he has secured to himself the meed of death- less renown indulges in deluding visions, which only bespeak the vanity of the dreamer. ‘The _ storied obelisk —the triumphal arch—the swelling dome—shall crumble into dust, and the names they. would preserve from oblivion shall often pass away before their own duration is accomplished. Yet this passion for fame, however ridiculous in the eye of the philosopher, deserves respect and considera- tion, from having been the source of so many illustri- ous actions; and hence it has been the practice im all enlightened governments to perpetuate, by monuments, the memory of great men, as a testimony. of respect for the illustrious dead, and to awaken in the bosoms of posterity an emulation to merit the same honourable distinction. ‘The people of the American logocracy, who pride themselves upon improving on every precept or example of ancient or modern governments, have discovered a new mode of exciting this love of glory— 302 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS a mode by which they do honour to their great men, even in their life-time. Thou must have observed by this time that they manage every thing ina manner peculiar to themselves ; and doubtless in the best possible manner, seeing they have denominated themselves ‘ the most enlightened people under the sun.” Thou wilt therefore, perhaps, be curious to know how they contrive to honour the name of a living patriot, and what unheard of monu- ment they erect in memory of his achievements. By the fiery beard of the mighty Barbarossa, but I can scarcely preserve the sobriety of a true disciple of Ma- homet while I tell thee!—Wilt thou not smile, oh, mussulman of invincible gravity, to learn that they honour their great men by eating, and that the only trophy erected to their exploits is a public dinner! But trust me, Asem, even in this measure, whimsical as it may seem, the philosophic and considerate spirit of this people is admirably displayed. Wisely con- cluding, that when the hero is dead he becomes insen- sible to the voice of fame, the song of adulation, or the splendid trophy, they have determined that he shall enjoy his quantum of celebrity while living, and revel in the full enjoyment of a nine days’ immortality. The barbarous nations of antiquity immolated human vic- tims to the memory of their lamented dead, but the enlightened Americans offer up whole hecatombs of geese and calves, and oceans of wine, in honour of the illustrious living; and the patriot has the felicity of hearmg from every quarter the vast exploits in glut- tony and revelling that have been celebrated to the glory of his name. No sooner does a citizen signalize himself in a con- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 303 spicuous manner in the service of his country than all the gormandizers assemble, and discharge the national debt of gratitude—by giving him a dinner: not that he really receives all the luxuries provided on this oc- casion—no, my friend, it is ten chances to one that the great man does not taste a morsel from the table, and is, perhaps, five hundred miles distant ; and, to let thee into a melancholy fact, a patriot, under this economic government, may be often in want of a dinner, while dozens are devoured in his praise. Neither are these repasts spread out for the hungry and necessitous, who might otherwise be filled with food and gladness, and inspired to shout forth the illustrious name, which had been the means of their enjoyment—far from this, Asem, it is the rich only who indulge in the banquet : those who pay for the dainties are alone privileged to enjoy them; so that, while opening their purses in ho- nour of the patriot, they, at the same time, fulfil a great maxim, which in this country comprehends all the rules of prudence, and all the duties a man owes to himself—namely, getting the worth of their money. In process of time this mode of testifying public ap- plause has been found so marvellously agreeable, that they extend it to events as well as characters, and eat in triumph at the news of a treaty—at the anniversary of any grand national era, or at the gaining of that splendid victory of the tongue—an election. Nay, so far do they carry it, that certain days are set apart, when the guzzlers, the gormandizers, and the wine- bibbers meet together to celebrate a grand indigestion, in memory of some great event ; and every man in the zeal of patriotism gets devoutly drunk—*‘as the act directs.” Then, my friend, mayest thou behold the 304 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS sublime spectacle of love of country, elevating itself from a sentiment into an appetite, whetted to the quick with the cheering prospect of tables loaded with the fat things of the land. On this occasion every man is anxious to fall to work, cram himself in honour of the day, and risk a surfeit in the glorious cause. Some, I have been told, actually fast for four-and-twenty hours preceding, that they may be enabled to do greater honour to the feast; and certainly, if eating and drink- ing are patriotic rites, he who eats and drinks most, and proves himself the greatest glutton, is undoubtedly, the most distinguished patriot. Such, at any rate, seems to be the opinion here ; and they act up to it so rigidly, that by the time it is dark, every kennel in the neighbourhood teems with illustrious members of the sovereign people, wallowing in their congenial element - of mud and mire. These patriotic feasts, or rather national monuments, are patronized and promoted by certain inferior cadis, called Aldermen, who are commonly complimented with their direction. These dignitaries, as far as I can learn, are generally appointed on account of their great talents for eating,—a qualification peculiarly necessary in the discharge of their official duties. They hold fre- quent meetings at taverns and hotels, where they enter into solemn consultations for the benefit of lobsters and turtles ;—establish wholesome regulations for the safety and preservation of fish and wild-fowl;—appoint the season most proper for eating oysters ;—inquire into the economy of taverns, the character of publicans, and the abilities of their cooks; and discuss, most learnedly, the merits ofa bowl of soup, a chicken-pie, or a haunch , of venison; in a word, the Alderman has absolute OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 305 control in all matters of eating, and superintends the whole police—of the belly—Having, in the prosecu- tion of their important office, signalized themselves at so many public festivals; having gorged so often on patriotism and pudding, and entombed so many great names in their extensive maws, thou wilt easily con- ceive that they wax portly apace, that they fatten on the fame of mighty men, and that their rotundity, like the rivers, the lakes, and the mountains of their coun- try, must be on a great scale! Even so, my friend ; and when I sometimes see a portly Alderman, puffing along, and swelling as if he had the world under his waistcoat, I cannot help looking upon him as a walk- ing monument, and am often ready to exclain—‘* Tell me, thou majestic mortal, thou breathing catacomb! to what illustrious character, what mighty event, does that capacious carcass of thine bear testimony ?” _ But though the enlightened citizens of this logocracy eat in honour of their friends, yet they drink destruc- tion to their enemies.— Yea, Asem, woe unto those who are doomed to undergo the public vengeance, at a public dinner. No sooner are the viands removed, than they prepare for merciless and exterminating hostilities. They drink the intoxicating juice of the grape out of little glass cups, and over each draught pronounce a short sentence or prayer ;—not such a prayer as thy virtuous heart would dictate, thy pious lips give utter- ance to, my good Asem ;—not a tribute of thanks to all bountiful Allah, nor a humble supplication for his blessing on the draught !—no, my friend, it is merely a toast, that 1s to say, a fulsome tribute of flattery to their demagogues ;—a laboured sally of affected senti- ment or national egotism; or, what is more despicable, x 306 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS a malediction on their enemies, an empty threat of vengeance, or a petition for their destruction; for toasts, thou must know, are another kind of missile weapon in a logocracy, and are levelled from afar, like the annoying arrows of the Tartars. Oh, Asem! couldst thou but witness one of these patriotic, these monumental dinners ;—how furiously — the flame of patriotism blazes forth, how suddenly they vanquish armies, subjugate whole countries, and ex- terminate nations in a bumper,—thou wouldst more than ever admire the force of that omnipotent weapon the tongue. At these moments every coward becomes a hero, every ragamuffin an invincible warrior; and the most zealous votaries of peace and quiet forget, for a while, their cherished maxims, and join in the furious attack. Toast succeeds toast ;—kings, emperors, ba- shaws, are like chaff before the tempest ; the inspired patriot vanquishes fleets with a single gun-boat, and swallows down navies at a draught, until, overpowered . with victory and wine, he sinks upon the field of bat- tle, dead drunk in his country’s cause. Sword of the puissant Khalid! what a display of valour is here! the sons of Afric are hardy, brave, and enterprising, but they can achieve nothing like this. Happy would it be if this mania for toasting ex- tended no farther than to the expression of national resentment. ‘Though we might smile at the impotent vaporing and windy hyperbole, by which it is di- stinguished, yet we would excuse it, as the unguarded overflowings of a heart, glowing with national injuries, and indignant at the insults offered toits country. But alas, my friend, private resentment, individual hatred, and the illberal spirit of party, are let loose on these OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 307 festive occasions. Even the names of individuals, of unoffending fellow-citizens, are sometimes dragged forth to undergo the slanders and execrations of a dis- tempered herd of revellers *.—Head of Mahomet !— how vindictive, how insatiably vindictive must be that spirit, which can drug the mantling bowl with gall and bitterness, and indulge an angry passion in the moment of rejoicing !—~** Wine,” says their poet, ‘is like sun- shine to the heart, which under its generous influence expands with good will, and becomes the very temple of philanthropy.” Strange, that in a temple conse- crated to such a divinity there should remain a secret corner, polluted by the lurkings of malice and revenge ; strange, that in the full flow of social enjoyment these votaries of pleasure can turn aside to call down curses on the head of a fellow creature.—Despicable souls! ye are unworthy of being citizens of this ‘ most en- lightened country under the sun:” rather herd with the murderous savages who prowl the mountains of Tibesti ; who stain their midnight orgies with the blood of the innocent wanderer, and drink their infernal po- Note by William Wizard, Esq. * It would seem that in this sentence the sage Mustapha had reference to a patriotic dinner, celebrated last fourth of July, by some gentlemen of Baltimore, when they righteously drank perdition to an unoffending in- dividual, and really thought ‘‘they had done the state some service.”’ This amiable custom of ‘eating and drinking damnation’’ to others is not confined to any party; for a month or two after the fourth of July, the different newspapers file off their columns of patriotic toasts against each other, and take a pride in showing how brilliantly their partizans can vilify public characters in their cups—“ they do but jest —poison in jest,” as Hamlet says. , x 2 308 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS tations from the skulls of the victims they have mas- sacred. oe And yet, trust me, Asem, this spirit of vindictive cowardice is not owing to any inherent depravity of soul, for, on other occasions, I have had ample proof that this nation is mild and merciful, brave and mag- nanimous;—neither is it owing to any defect in their political or religious precepts. The principles incul- cated by their rulers on all occasions breathe a spirit of universal philanthropy; and as to their religion, much as I am devoted to the Koran of our divine pro- phet, still I cannot but acknowledge with admiration the mild forbearance, the amiable benevolence, the sublime morality bequeathed them by the founder of their faith. Thou rememberest the doctrines of the mild Nazarene, who preached peace and good will to all mankind; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; who blessed those who cursed him, and prayed for those who despitefully used and persecuted him! What then can give rise to this uncharitable, this in- human custom, among the disciples of a master, so gentle and forgiving ?—It is that fiend Politics, Asem —that baneful fiend, which bewildereth every brain, and poisons every social feeling; which intrudes itself at the festive banquet, and like the detestable harpy pollutes the very viands of the table; which contami- nates the refreshing draught while it ts inhaled; which prompts the assassin to launch his poisoned arrows - from behind the social board; and which renders the bottle, that boasted promoter of good fellowship and hilarity, an infernal engine charged with direful com- bustion. | Oh, Asem! Asem! how does my heart sicken when . .—— OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 309 I contemplate these cowardly barbarities! let me, there- fore, if possible, withdraw my attention from them for ever. My feelings have borne me from my subject; and from the monuments of ancient greatness, I have wandered to those of modern degradation. My warmest wishes remain with thee, thou most illustrious of slave- drivers; mayest thou ever be sensible of the mercies of our great prophet, who, im compassion to human imbecility, has prohibited his disciples from the use of the deluding beverage of the grape ;—that enemy to reason—that promoter of defamation—that auxiliary of politics. Ever thine, MustTapPHa*. * In this letter of the sage Mustapha, there are some fine moral re- flectidns: the satirical portion of it is, likewise, excellent, and we need searcely add, is susceptible of more extensive application than to the usages of the republic. —Edit. . 310 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XVIIL—WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER I], 1807. eae AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS. BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. » WHEN a man is quietly journeying. downwards into the valley of the shadow of departed youth, and begins to contemplate in a shortened perspective the end of his pilgrimage, he becomes more solicitous than ever that the remainder of his wayfaring should be smooth and pleasant, and the evening of his life, like the even- ing of a summer’s day, should fade away in mild un- interrupted serenity. If haply his heart has escaped uninjured, through the dangers of a seductive world, it may then administer to the purest of his felicities, and its chords vibrate more musically for the trials they have sustained—like the viol, which yields a melody sweet in proportion to its age. To a mind thus temperately harmonized, thus ma- tured and mellowed by a long lapse of years, there is something truly congenial in the quiet enjoyment of our early autumn, in the tranquillity of the country. There is a sober and chastened air of gaiety diffused over the face of nature, peculiarly interesting to an old man; and when he views the surrounding landscape withering under his eye, it seems as if he and nature were taking a last farewell of each other, and parting with a melancholy smile—like a couple of old friends, who, having sported away the spring and summer of life together, part at the approach of winter with a kind of prophetic fear that they are never to meet again, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, EsQ. J11 It is either my good fortune or mishap to be keenly susceptible to the influence of the atmosphere; and I can feel in the morning, before I open my window, whether the wind be easterly. It will not, therefore, I presume, be considered an extravagant instance of vain glory when I assert, that there are few men who can discriminate more accurately in the different varieties of damps, fogs, Scotch-mists, and north-east storms, than myself. To the great discredit of my philosophy, I confess, I seldom fail to anathematize and excommu- nicate the weather, when it sports too rudely with my sensitive system; but then I always endeavour to atone therefore, by eulogizing it when deserving of approba- tion. And as most of my readers, simple folk ! make but one distinction, to wit, rain and sunshine—living in most honest ignorance of the various nice shades which distinguish one fine day from another—-I take the trouble, from time to time, of letting them into some of the secrets of nature,—so will they be the better enabled to enjoy her beauties, with the zest of connoisseurs, and derive at least as much information from my pages as from the weather-wise lore of the almanack. | Much of my recreation, since I retreated to the Hall, has consisted in making little excursions through the neighbourhood; which abounds in the variety of wild, romantic, and luxuriant landscape that generally cha- racterizes the scenery in the vicinity of our rivers. There is not an eminence within a circuit of many miles but commands an extensive range of diversified and enchanting prospect. Often have I rambled to the summit of some favourite hill, and thence, with. feelings sweetly tranquil as the 912 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS lucid expanse of the heavens that canopied me, have noted the slow and almost imperceptible changes that mark the waning year. There are many features pecu- liar to our autumn, and which give it an individual character: the “ green and yellow melancholy” that first steals over the landscape—the mild and steady serenity of the weather, and the transparent purity of the atmosphere, speak not merely to the senses but the heart,—it is the season of liberal emotions. To this succeeds a fantastic gaiety, a motley dress, which the woods assume, where green and yellow, orange, purple, crimson and scarlet, are whimsically blended together. —A sickly splendour this!—like the wild and broken- hearted gaiety that sometimes precedes dissolution, or that childish sportiveness of superannuated age, pro- ceeding, not from a vigorous flow of animal spirits, but from the decay and imbecility of the mind. We might, perhaps, be deceived by this gaudy garb of nature, were it not for the rustling of the falling leaf, which, breaking on the stillness of the scene, seems to announce, in prophetic whispers, the dreary winter that is ap- proaching. When I have sometimes seen a thrifty young oak changing its hue of sturdy vigour for a bright but transient glow of red, it has recalled to my mind the treacherous bloom that once mantled the cheek of a friend who is now no more; and which, while it seemed to promise a long life of jocund spirits, was the sure precursor of premature decay. In a little while, and this ostentatious foliage disappears—the close of autumn leaves but one wide expanse of dusky brown, save where some rivulet steals along, bordered with little strips of green grass—the woodland echoes no more to the carols of the feathered tribes that sported OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 313 in the leafy covert, and its solitude and silence are un- interrupted except by the plaintive whistle of the quail, the barking of the squirrel, or the still more melancholy wintry wind, which, rushing and swelling through the hollows of the mountains, sighs through the leafless branches of the grove, and seems to mourn the deso- lation of the year. To one who, like myself, is fond of drawing com- parisons between the different divisions of life and those of the seasons, there will appear a striking analogy which connects the feelings of the aged with the decline of the year. Often as I contemplate the mild, uniform, and genial lustre with which the sun cheers and invi- gorates us in the month of October, and the almost imperceptible haze which, without obscuring, tempers all the asperities of the landscape, and gives to every object a character of stillness and repose, I cannot help comparing it with that portion of existence, when the spring of youthful hope and the summer of the passions having gone by, reason assumes an undisputed--sway, and lights us on with bright but undazzling lustre, adown the hill of life. There is a full and mature luxuriance in the fields that fills the bosom with ge- nerous and disinterested content. It is not the thought- less extravagance of spring, prodigal only in blossoms, nor the languid voluptuousness of summer, feverish in its enjoyments, and teeming only with immature abundance—it is that certain fruition of the labours of the past—that prospect of comfortable realities, which those will be sure to enjoy who have improved the bounteous smiles of Heaven, nor wasted away their spring and summer in empty trifling or criminal in- dulgence. | 314: WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Cousin Pindar, who is my constant companion in these expeditions, and who still possesses much of the fire-and energy of youthful sentiment, and a buxom hilarity of the spirits, often indeed draws me from these half-melancholy reveries, and makes me feel young again by the enthusiasm with which he con- templates, and the animation with which he eulogizes’ the beauties of nature displayed before him. His enthusiastic disposition never allows him to enjoy things by halves, and his feelings are continually breaking out in notes of admiration and ejaculations that sober reason might perhaps deem extravagant, But for my part, when I see a hale hearty old man, who has jostled through the rough path of the world, without having worn away the fine edge of his feelings, or blunted his sensibility to natural and moral beauty, I compare him to the evergreen of the forest, whose colours, instead of fading at the approach of winter, seem to assume additional lustre when contrasted with the surrounding desolation. Such a man is my friend Pindar ;—yet sometimes, and particularly at the ap- proach of evening, even he will fall in with my humour; but he soon recovers his natural tone of spirits; and, mounting on the elasticity of his mind, like Ganymede. on the eagle’s wing, he soars to the ethereal regions of sunshine and fancy. One afternoon we had strolled to the top of a high hillin the neighbourhood of the Hall, which commands an almost boundless prospect; and as the shadows began to lengthen around us, and the distant moun- tains to fade into mists, my cousin was seized with a moralizing fit. ‘‘ It seems to me,” said he, laying his hand lightly on my shoulder, “ that there is just at OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 315 this season, and this hour, a sympathy between us and the world we are now contemplating. The evening is stealing upon nature as well as upon us ;—the shadows of the opening day have given place to those of its close; and the only difference is, that in the morning they were before us, now they are behind; and that the first vanished in the splendours of noon-day, the latter will be lost in the oblivion of night.—Our ‘ May of Life,’ my dear Launce, has for ever fled; our summer is over and gone ;—but,” continued he, suddenly recovering himself and slapping me gaily on the shoulder,—* but why should we repine >—What though the capricious zephyrs of spring, the heats and hurricanes of summer, have given place to the sober sunshine of autumn—and though the woods begin to assume the dappled livery of decay !—yet the prevailing colour is still green— gay, sprightly green. <‘ Let us then comfort ourselves with this reflection ; that though the shades of the morning have given place to those of the evening,—though the spring is past, the summer over, and the autumn come,—still you and I go on our way rejoicing ;—and while, like the lofty mountains of our Southern America, our heads are covered with snow, still, like them, we feel the genial warmth of spring and summer playing upon our bosoms.” BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. In the description which I gave sometime since of Cockloft-hall, I totally forgot to make honourable mention of the library, which I confess was a most inexcusable oversight; for in truth it would bear a comparison, in point of usefulness and eccentricity, 316 _ WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS with the motley collection of the renowned hero of La Mancha. | It was chiefly gathered together by my grandfather; who spared neither pains nor expense to procure speci- mens of the oldest, most quaint, and insufferable books in the whole compass of English, Scotch, and Irish literature. There is a tradition in the family that the old gentleman once gave a grand entertainment in consequence of having got possession of a copy of a Philippic, by Archbishop Anselm, against the unseemly luxury of long-toed shoes, as worn by the courtiers in the time of William Rufus; which he purchased of an honest brickmaker in the neighbourhood, for a little less than forty times its value. He had undoubtedly a singular reverence for old authors, and his highest eulogium on his library was, that it consisted of books not to be met with in any other collection; and as the phrase is, entirely out of print. The reason of which was, I suppose, that they were not worthy of being re- printed. Cousin Christopher preserves these relics with vreat care, and has added considerably to the collection ; for with the hall he has inherited almost all the whim- whams of its former possessor. He cherishes a re- verential regard for ponderous tomes of Greek and Latin; though he knows about as much of these lan- guages as a young Bachelor of Arts does a year or two after leaving College. A worm-eaten work in eight or ten volumes he compares to an old family, more re- spectable for its antiquity than its splendour ;—a lum- bering folio he considers as a Duke; a sturdy quarto, as an Earl; and a row of gilded duodecimos, as so many gallant Knights of the Garter. But as to modern works OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 317 of literature, they are thrust into trunks, and drawers, as intruding upstarts, and regarded with as much con- tempt as mushroom nobility in England; who, having risen to grandeur, merely by their talents and services, are regarded as utterly unworthy to mingle their blood with those noble currents that can be traced without a single contamination through a long line of, perhaps, useless and profligate ancestors, up to William the Bastard’s cook, or butler, or groom, or some one of Rollo’s freebooters. Will Wizard, whose studies are of a whimsical complexion, takes great delight in ransacking the library; and has been, during his late sojournings at the Hall, very constant and devout in his visits to this receptacle of obsolete learning. He seemed particularly tickled with the contents of the great mahogany chest of drawers mentioned in the beginning of this work. This venerable piece of architecture has frowned, in sullen majesty, from a corner of the library, time out of mind; and is filled with musty manuscripts, some in my grandfather’s hand-writing, and others evidently written long before his day. , Tt was a sight, worthy of a man’s seeing, to behold ‘Will with his outlandish phiz poring over old scrawls that would puzzle a whole society of antiquarians to expound, and diving into receptacles of trumpery, which, for a century past, had been undisturbed by mortal hand. He would sit for whole hours, with a phlegmatic patience unknown in these degenerate days, except, peradventure, among the High Dutch Com- mentators, prying into the quaint obscurity of musty parchments, until his whole face seemred to be con- verted into a folio leaf of black-letter ; and occasionally, 318 WHIM*WHAMS AND OPINIONS when the whimsical meaning of an obscure passage flashed on his mind, his countenance would curl up into an expression of Gothic risibility, not unlike the physiognomy of a cabbage leaf shrivelling before a hot fire. At such times there was no getting Will to join in our walks, or take any part in our usual recreations ; he hardly gave us an Oriental tale in a week, and would smoke so inveterately, that no one else dared enter the library under pain of suffocation. This was more especially the case when he encountered any knotty piece of writing; and he honestly confessed to me that one worm-eaten manuscript, written in a pesti- lent crabbed hand, had cost him a box of the best Spanish cigars before he could make it out; and after all, it was not worth a tobacco stalk. Such is the turn of my knowing associate; only let him get fairly in the track of any odd out of the way whim-wham, and away he goes, whip and cut, until he either runs down his game, or runs himself out of breath.—I never in my life met with a man who rode -his hobby-horse more intolerably hard than Wizard. One of his favourite occupations for some time past has been the hunting of black-letter, which he holds in high regard; and he often hints that learning has been on the decline ever since the introduction of the Roman alphabet. An old book, printed three hundred years ago, is a treasure; and a ragged scroll, about one half unintelligible, fills him with rapture. Oh! with what enthusiasm will he dwell on the discovery of the Pan- dects of Justinian, and Livy’s history; and when he relates the pious exertions of the Medici, in recovering the lost treasures of Greek and Roman literature, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 319 his eye brightens, and his face assumes all the splen- dour of an illuminated manuscript. Will had vegetated for a considerable time in perfect tranquillity among dust and cobwebs, when one morn- ing as we were gathered on the piazza, listening with exemplary patience to one of cousin Christopher’s long stories about the revolutionary war, we were sud- denly electrified by an explosion of laughter from the hibrary.—My readers, unless peradventure they have heard honest Will laugh, can form no idea of the pro- digious uproar he makes. To hear him ina forest you would imagine, that is to say, if you were classical enough, that the satyrs and the dryads had just dis- covered a pair of rural lovers in the shade, and were deriding, with bursts of obstreperous laughter, the blushes of the nymph and the indignation of the swain; or if it were suddenly, as in the present instance, to break upon the serene and pensive silence of an au- tumnal morning, it would cause a sensation something like that which arises from hearing a sudden clap of thunder in a summer’s day, when not a cloud is to be seen above the horizon. In short, I recommend Will’s laugh as a sovereign remedy for the spleen; and if any of our readers are troubled with that villanous com- plaint, which can hardly be, if they make good use of our works,—I advise them earnestly to get introduced to him forthwith. This outrageous merriment of Will’s, as may be easily supposed, threw the whole family into a violent fit of wondering: we all, with the exception of Chri- stopher, who took the interruption in high dudgeon, silently stole up to the library ; and bolting in upon him, were fain at the first glance to join in his aspiring 320 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS roar. His face,—but I despair to give an idea of his appearance !—and until his portrait, which is now in the hands of an eminent artist, is engraved, my readers must be content :—I promise them they shall one day or other have a striking likeness of Will’s indescribable phiz, in all its native comeliness. Upon my inquiring the occasion of his mirth, he thrust an old, rusty, musty, and dusty manuscript into my hand, of which I could not decypher one word out of ten, without more trouble than it was worth. This task, however, he kindly took off my hands ; and, in little more than eight and forty hours, produced a translation into fair Roman letters; though he assured me it had lost a vast deal of its humour by being modernized and degraded into plain English. In return for the great pains he had taken, I could not do less than insert it in our work. Will informs me that it is but one sheet of a stupendous bundle which still remains uninvestigated :—who was the author we have not yet discovered; but a note on the back, in my grandfather’s hand-writing, informs us that it was pre- sented to him as a literary curiosity by his particular friend, the illustrious Rip Van Dam, formerly lieu- tenant-governor of the colony of New Amsterdam; and whose fame if it has never reached these latter days, it is only because he was too modest a man ever to do any thing worthy of being particularly recorded. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 321 CHAP. CIX. Of the Chronicles of the Renowned and Ancient City of Gotham. How Gotham city conquered was, And how the folk turn’d apes—because. Link. Fid. ALBEIT, much about this time it did fall out that the thrice renowned and delectable city of Gotham did suffer great discomfiture, and was reduced to pe- rilous extremity, by the invasion and assaults of the Hoppingtots. These are a people inhabiting a far distant country, exceedingly pleasaunte and fertile; but they being withal egregiously addicted to migra- tions do thence issue forth in mighty swarms, like the Scythians of old, overrunning divers countries, and commonwealths, and committing great devastations wheresoever they do go by their horrible and dreadful feats and prowesses. ‘They are specially noted for being right valorous in all exercises of the leg; and of them it hath been rightly affirmed that no nation in all Christendom, or elsewhere, can cope with them in the adroit, dexterous, and jocund shaking of the heel. This engaging excellence doth stand unto them a sovereign recommendation, by the which they do insinuate themselves into universal favour and good countenance; and it is a notable fact that, let a Hop- pingtot but once introduce a foot into company, and it goeth hardly if he doth not contrive to flourish his whole body in thereafter. ‘The learned Linkum Fide- hus, in his famous and unheard of treatise on man, whom he defineth, with exceeding sagacity, to be a corn-cutting, tooth-drawing animal, is particularly mi- nute and elaborate in treating of the nation of the ¥ 392 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS Hoppingtots; and betrays a little of the Pythagorean in his theory, inasmuch as he accounteth for their being so wondrously adroit in pedestrian exercises, by supposing that they did originally acquire this un- accountable and unparalleled aptitude for huge and unmatchable feats of the leg, by having heretofore been condemned for their numerous offences against that harmless race of bipeds, or quadrupeds (for herein the sage Linkum appeareth to doubt and waver ex- ceedingly), the frogs, to animate their bodies for the Space of one or two generations, He also giveth it as his opinion, that the name of Hoppingtots is manifestly derivative from this transmigration. Be this, however, as it may, the matter, albeit it hath been the subject of controversy among the learned, is but little pertinent to the subject of this history ; wherefore shall we treat and consider it as naughte. Now these people being thereto impelled by a super- fluity of appetite, and a plentiful deficiency of the wherewithal to satisfy the same, did take thought that the ancient and venerable city of Gotham was, perad- venture, possessed of mighty treasures, and did, more- over, abound with all manner of fish and flesh, and eatables and drinkables, and such like delightsome and wholesome excellencies withal. Whereupon, calling a council of the most active-heeled warriors, they did resolve forthwith to put forth a mighty array, make themselves masters of the same, and revel in the good things of the land. To this were they hotly stirred up, and wickedly incited, by two redoubtable and renowned warriors, hight Pirouet and Rigadoon; ycleped in such sort, by reason that they were two Qs OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 32 mighty, valiant, and invincible little men; utterly famous for the victories of the leg which they had, on divers illustrious occasions, right gallantly achieved. These doughty champions did ambitiously and wickedly inflame the minds of their countrymen with gorgeous descriptions, in the which they did cunninglie set forth the marvellous riches and luxuries of Gotham ;: where Hoppingtots might have garments for their bodies, shirts to their ruffles, and might riot most merrily every day in the week on beef, pudding, and such like lusty dainties.—They, Pirouet and Rigadoon, did likewise hold out hopes of an easy conquest; foras- much as the Gothamites were as yet but little versed in the mystery and science of handling the legs; and being, moreover, like unto that notable bully of an- tiquity, Achilles, most vulnerable to all attacks on the heel, would doubtless surrender at the very first assault. — Whereupon, on the hearing of this inspiriting council, the Hoppingtots did set up a prodigious great cry of joy, shook their heels in triumph, and were all im- patience to dance on to Gotham and take it by storm. The cunning Pirouet, and the arch caitiff Rigadoon, knew full well how to profit by this enthusiasm. ‘They forthwith did order every man to arm himself with a certain pestilent little weapon, called a fiddle :—to pack up in his knapsack a pair of silk breeches, the like of ruffles, a cocked hat the form of a half-moon, a bundle of cat-gut—and inasmuch as in marching to Gotham the army might, peradventure, be smitten with scarcity of provisions, they did account it proper that each man should take especial care to carry with him a bunch of right merchantable onions. Having proclaimed these orders by sound of fiddle, they, Pirouet and Rigadoon, ¥ 2 824 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS did accordingly put their army behind them, and striking up the right jolly and sprightfull tune of Ca Ira, away they all capered towards the devoted city of Gotham, with a most horrible and appalling chattering of voices. Of their first appearance before the beleagured town, and of the various difficulties which did encounter them in their march, this history saith not; being that other matters of more weighty import require to be written. When that the army of the Hoppingtots did peregrinate - within sight of Gotham, and the people of the city did behold the villanous and hitherto unseen capers and | grimaces which they did make, a most horrific panie was stirred up among the citizens; and the sages of the town fell into great despondency and tribulation, as supposing that these invaders were of the race of the Jig-hees, who did make men into baboons when they achieved a conquest over them. ‘The sages, therefore, called upon all the dancing men and dancing women, and exhorted them, with great vehemency of speech, to make heel against the invaders, and to put them- selves upon such gallant defence, such glorious array, and such sturdy evolution, elevation, and transposition of the foot, as might incontinently impester the legs of the Hoppingtots, and produce their complete discom- fiture. But so it did happen, by great mischance, that divers light-heeled youth of Gotham, more especially those who are descended from three wise men so re- nowned of yore, for having most venturesomely voyaged over sea in a bowl, were from time to time captured and inveigled into the camp of the enemy; where being foolishly cajoled and treated for a season with outlandish disports and pleasauntries, they were sent OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 325 back to their friends, entirely changed, degenerated, and turned topsy-turvy ; insomuch that they thought thenceforth of nothing but their heels, always essaying to thrust them into the most manifest point of view ;— cand, in a word, as might truly be affirmed, did for ever after walk upon their heads outright. And the Hoppingtots did day by day, and at late hours of the night, wax more and more urgent in this their investment of the city. At one time they would, in goodly procession, make an open assault by sound of fiddle in a tremendous contradance ;—and anon they would advance by little detachments, and manceuvre to take the town by figuring in cotillions. But truly their most cunning and devilish craft, and subtility, was made manifest in their strenuous endeavours to corrupt the garrison, by a most insidious and pestilent dance called the Waltz. 'This, in good truth, was a potent auxiliary ; for by it were the heads of the simple Gothamites most villanously turned, their wits sent a wool-gathering, and themselves on the point of sur- rendering at discretion, even unto the very arms of their invading foemen. At length the fortifications of the town began to give manifest symptoms of decay; inasmuch as the -breastwork of decency was considerably broken down, and the curtain work of propriety blown up. “When the cunning caitiff Pirouet beheld the ticklish and jeo- pardized state of the city—‘‘ Now, by my leg,” quoth he,—he always swore by his leg, being that it was an exceeding goodlie leg—‘ Now by my leg,” quoth he, ‘but this is no great matter of recreation ;—I will - show these people a pretty strange, and new way for- sooth, presentlie, and will shake the dust off my pumps 326 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS © upon this most obstinate and uncivilized town.” Whereupon he ordered, and did command his warriors, one and all, that they should put themselves in readi- ness, and prepare to carry the town by a grand ball. They, in no wise to be daunted, do forthwith, at the word, equip themselves for the assault: and in good faith, truly it was a gracious and glorious sight, a most triumphant and incomparable spectacle, to behold them gallantly arrayed in glossy and shining silk breeches tied with abundance of riband: with silken hose of the gorgeous colour of the salmon :—right goodlie morocco pumps decorated with clasps or buckles of a most cun- ninge and secret contrivance, inasmuch as they did of themselves grapple to the shoe without any aid of fluke or tongue, marvellously ensembling witchcraft and ne- cromancy. ‘They had, withal, exuberant chitterlings; which puffed out at the neck and bosom, after a most jolly fashion, like unto the beard of an ancient he- turkey; and cocked hats, the which they did carry not on their heads, after the fashion of the Gothamites, but under their arms, as a roasted fowl his gizzard. Thus being equipped, and marshalled, they do attack, assault, batter and belabour the town with might and main; most gallantly displaying the vigour of their legs, and shaking their heels at it most emphatically. And the manner of their attack was in this sort :—first, they did thunder, and gallop forward in a contre temps : —and anon, displayed column in a Cossack dance, a fandango or a gavot. Whereat the Gothamites, in no wise understanding this unknown system of warfare, marvelled exceedinglie, and did open their mouths in- continently, the full distance of a bow shot, meaning a cross-bow, in sore dismay and apprehension, Where- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 327 upon, saith Rigadoon, flourishing his left lee with great expression of valour, and most magnific carriage —‘* My copesmates, for what wait we here; are not the townsmen already won to our favour?—Do not their women and young damsels wave to us from the walls in such sort that, albeit there is some show of defence, yet is it manifestly converted into our in- terests?” So saying, he made no more ado, but leaping ‘into the air about a flight-shot, and crossing his feet six times, after the manner of the Hoppingtots, he gave a short partridge run, and with mighty vigour and swiftness did bolt outright over the walls with a so- merset. The whole army of Hoppingtots danced in after their valiant chieftain, with an enormous squeak- ing of fiddles, and a horrific blasting and brattling of horns ; insomuch that the dogs did howl in the streets, so hideously were their ears assailed. The Gothamites made some semblance of defence, but their women having been all won over into the interest of the enemy, they were shortly reduced to make most abject sub- mission ; and delivered over to the coercion of certain professors of the Hoppingtots, who did put them under most ignominious durance, for the space ofa long time, until they had learned to turn out their toes, and flourish their legs after the true manner of their con- querors. And thus, after the manner I have related, was the mighty and puissant city of Gotham circum- vented, and taken by a coup de pied; or, as it might be rendered, by force of legs. The conquerors showed no mercy, but did put all ages, sexes, and conditions, to the fiddle and the dance; and, in a word, compelled and enforced them to become _ absolute Hoppingtots. “‘ Habit,” as the ingenious Lin- 328 - WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS kum profoundly affirmeth, ‘is second nature.” And this original and invaluable observation hath been most aptly proved and illustrated by the example of the Gothamites, ever since this disastrous and unlucky mischance. In process of time, they have waxed to be most flagrant, outrageous, and abandoned dancers ; they do ponder on naughte but how to gallantize it at balls, routs, and fandangoes; insomuch that the like was, in no time or place, ever observed before. They do, moreover, pitifully devote their nights to the jollification of the legs, and their days forsooth to the instruction and edification of the heel. And to con- clude: their young folk, who whilome did bestow a modicum of leisure upon the improvement of the head, have of jate utterly abandoned this hopeless task, and have quietly, as it were, settled themselves down into mere machines, wound up by a tune, and set in motion by a fiddle-stick ! OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 329 NO. XVIII.—TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 18077. THE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK. BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Tue following story has been handed down by fa- mily tradition for more than a century. It is one on which my cousin Christopher dwells with more than usual prolixity; and, being in some measure connected with a personage often quoted in our work, I have thought it worthy of being laid before my readers. Soon after my grandfather, Mr. Lemuel Cockloft, had quietly settled himself at the Hall, and just, about the time that the gossips of the neighbourhood, tired of prying into his affairs, were anxious for some new tea-table topic, the busy community of our little village was thrown into a grand turmoil of curiosity and con- jecture—a situation very common to little gossiping villages—by the sudden and unaccountable appearance of a mysterious individual. The object of this solicitude was a little black-look- ing man, of a foreign aspect, who took possession of an old building, which having long had the reputation of being haunted, was in a state of ruinous desolation, and an object of fear to all true believers in ghosts. He usually wore a high sugar-loaf hat with a narrow brim, and a little black cloak which, short as he was, scarcely reached below his knees. He sought no intimacy or acquaintance with any one—appeared to take no in- terest in the pleasures or the little broils of the village —nor ever talked, except sometimes to himself in an 330 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS outlandish tongue. He commonly carried a large book, covered with sheepskin, under his arm—appeared always to be lost in meditation—and was often met by the peasantry, sometimes watching the dawning of day, sometimes at noon seated under a tree poring over his volume, and sometimes at evening gazing, with a look of sober tranquillity, at the sun as it gradually sunk below the horizon. The good people of the vicinity beheld something prodigiously singular in all this; a mystery seemed to hang about the stranger which, with all their sagacity, they could not penetrate; and in the excess of worldly charity they pronounced it a sure sign “that he was no better than he should be ;” a phrase innocent enough in itself; but which, as applied m common, signifies nearly every thing that is bad. The young people thought him a gloomy misanthrope, because he never joined in their sports; the old men thought still more hardly of him, because he followed no trade, nor ever seemed ambitious of earning a farthing; and as to the old gossips, baffled by the inflexible taciturnity of the stranger, they unanimously decreed that a man who could not or would not talk was no better than a dumb beast. The little man in black, careless of their opinions, seemed resolved to maintain the liberty of keeping his own secret; and the consequence was, that, in a little while, the whole village was in an uproar; for in little communities of this description, the members have always the privilege of bemg thoroughly versed, and even of meddling in all the affairs of each other. A confidential conference was held one Sunday morning after sermon, at the door of the village church, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 331 and the character of the unknown fully investigated. The schoolmaster gave as his opinion that he was the wandering Jew; the sexton was certain that he must be a free-mason from his silence; a third maintained with great obstinacy, that he was a High German doctor, and that the book which he carried about with him con- tained the secrets of the black art; but the most pre- vailing opinion seemed to be that he was a witch—a race of beings at that time abounding in those parts; and a sagacious old matron, from Connecticut, proposed to as- certain the fact by sousing him into a kettle of hot water. Suspicion, when once afloat, goes with wind and tide, and soon becomes certainty. Many a stormy night was the little man in black seen by the flashes of light- ning, frisking and curveting in the air upon a broom- stick ; and it was always observed, that at those times the storm did more mischief than at any other. The old lady in particular, who suggested the humane or- deal of the boiling kettle, lost on one of these occasions a fine brindle cow ; which accident was entirely ascribed to the vengeance of the little man in black. If ever a mischievous hireling rode his master’s favourite horse to a distant frolic, and the animal was observed to be Jamed and jaded in the morning,—the little man in black was sure to be at the bottom of the affair; nor could a high wind howl through the village at night, but the old women shrugged up their shoulders, and observed, ‘the little man in black was in his tantrums,” In short, he became the bugbear of every house; and was as effectual in frightening little children into obedi- » ence and hysterics, as the redoubtable Raw-head-and- bloody-bones himself; nor could a housewife of the 332 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS village sleep in peace, except under the guardianship of a horse-shoe nailed to the door. The object of these direful suspicions remained for some time totally ignorant of the wonderful quandary he had occasioned ; but he was soon doomed to feel its effects. An individual who is once so unfortunate as to incur the odium of a village is in a great measure outlawed and proscribed, and becomes a mark for in- jury and insult; particularly-if he has not the power or the disposition to recriminate.—The little venomous passions, which.in the great world are dissipated and weakened by being widely diffused, act in the narrow limits of a country town with collected vigour, and be- come rancorous in proportion as they are confined in their sphere of action. The little man in black ex- perienced the truth of this; every mischievous urchin returning from school had full liberty to break his windows; and this was considered as a most daring ex- ploit ; for in such awe did they stand of him, that the most adventurous schoolboy was never seen to approach his threshold, and at night would prefer going round by the cross-roads, where a traveller had been mur- dered by the Indians, rather than pass by the door of his forlorn habitation. The only living creature that seemed to have any care or affection for this deserted being was an old turnspit,—the companion of his lonely mansion and his solitary wanderings;—the sharer of his scanty meals, and, sorry am I to say it, the sharer of his persecu- tions. The turnspit, like his master, was peaceable and inoffensive; never known to bark at a horse, to growl at a traveller, or to quarrel with the dogs of the OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 3593 neighbourhood. He followed close at his master’s heels when he went out, and when he returned stretched him- self in the sunbeams at the door; demeaning himself in all things like a civil and well disposed turnspit. But notwithstanding his exemplary deportment he fell like- wise under the ill report of the village; as being the familiar of the little man in black, and the evil spirit that presided at his incantations. The old hovel was considered as the scene of their unhallowed rites, and its harmless tenants regarded with a detestation which their inoffensive conduct never merited. Though pelted and jeered at by the brats of the village, and frequently abused by their parents, the little man in black never turned to rebuke them; and his faithful dog, when wantonly assaulted, looked up wistfully in his master’s face, and there learned a lesson of patience and for- bearance. The movements of this inscrutable being had long - been the subject of speculation at Cockloft-hall, for its inmates were full as much given to wondering as their descendants. ‘The patience with which he bore his _ persecutions particularly surprised them—for patience is a virtue but little known in the Cockloft family. My grandmother, who, it appears, was rather superstitious, saw in this humility nothing but the gloomy sullenness of a wizard, who restrained himself for the present, in hopes of midnight vengeance—the parson of the vil- lage, who was a man of some reading, pronounced it the stubborn insensibility of a stoic philosopher—my grandfather, who, worthy soul, seldom wandered abroad in search of conclusions, took datum from his own ex- cellent heart, and regarded it as the humble forgiveness of a christian. But however different were their opi- 834 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS nions as to the character of the stranger, they agreed in one particular, namely, in never intruding upon his solitude; and my grandmother, who was at that time nursing my mother, never left the room without wisely putting the large family Bible in the cradle—a sure talis- man, in her opinion, against witchcraft and necromancy. One stormy winter night, when a bleak north-east wind moaned about the cottages, and howled around the village steeple, my grandfather was returning from club preceded by a servant with a lantern. Just as he arrived opposite the desolate abode of the little man in black, he was arrested by the piteous howling of a dog, which, heard in the pauses of a storm, was exquisitely mournful; and he fancied now and then that he caught the low and broken groans of some one in distress. He stopped for some minutes, hesitating between the be- nevolence of his heart and a sensation of genuine del1- cacy, which, in spite of his eccentricity, he fully pos- sessed,—and which forbade him to pry into the con- cerns of his neighbours. Perhaps, too, this hesitation might have been strengthened by a little taint of super- stition; for surely, if the unknown had been addicted to witchcraft, this was a most propitious night for his vagaries. At length the old gentleman’s philanthropy predominated; he approached the hovel, and pushing open the door,—for poverty has no occasion for locks and keys,—beheld, by the light of the lantern, a scene that smote his generous heart to the core. Ona miserable bed, with pallid and emaciated visage and hollow eyes; in a room destitute of every con- venience; without fire to warm or friend to console him, lay this helpless mortal who had been so long the terror and wonder of the village. His dog was crouching on OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. S35) the scanty coverlet, and shivering with cold. My grandfather stepped softly and hesitatingly to the bed- side, and accosted the forlorn sufferer in his usual accents of kindness. The little man in black seemed recalled by the tones of compassion from the lethargy into which he had fallen; for, though his heart was almost frozen, there was yet one chord that answered to the call of the good old man who bent over him ;— the tones of sympathy, so novel to his ear, called back his wandering senses, and acted hke a restorative to his solitary feelings. He raised his eyes, but they were vacant and hag- gard:—he put forth his hand, but it was cold; he essayed to speak, but the sound died away in his throat ; —he pointed to his,mouth with an expression of dread- ful meaning, and, sad to relate! my grandfather under- stood that the harmless stranger, deserted by society, was perishing with hunger !—With the quick impulse of humanity, he despatched the servant to the Hall for refreshment. A little warm nourishment renovated him for a short time, but not long; it was evident his pilgrimage was drawing to a close, and he was about entering that peaceful asylum where “‘ the wicked cease from troubling.” His tale of misery was short, and quickly told;— infirmities had stolen upon him, heightened by the rigours of the season; he had taken to his bed without strength to rise and ask for assistance ; ‘‘ and if I had,” said he, in a tone of bitter despondency, “ to whom should I have applied? I have no friend that I know of in the world!—The villagers avoid me as some- thing loathsome and dangerous; and here, in the midst of christians, should I have perished without a fellow 336 WHIM=-WHAMS AND OPINIONS being to soothe the last moments of existence, and close my dying eyes, had not the howlings of my faithful dog excited your attention.” He seemed deeply sensible of the kindness of my grandfather; and at one time, as he looked up into his old benefactor’s face, a solitary tear was observed to steal adown the parched furrows of his cheek.—Poor outcast !—it was the last tear he shed; but I warrant it was not the first by millions! My grandfather watched by him all night. Towards morning he gra- dually declined ; and as the rising sun gleamed through the window, he begged to be raised in his bed, that he might look at it for the last time. He contemplated it for a moment with a kind of religious enthusiasm,, and his lips moved as if engaged in prayer. The strange conjectures concerning him rushed on my erandfather’s mind. ‘* He is an idolater!” thought he, ‘and is worshipping the sun!” He listened a mo- ment, and blushed at his own uncharitable suspicion ; he was only engaged in the pious devotions of a chris- tian. His simple orison being finished, the little man in black withdrew his eyes from the east, and taking my grandfather’s hand in one of his, and making a motion with the other towards the sun—‘“ I love to contemplate it,” said he; “’tis an emblem of the uni- versal benevolence of a true christian ;—and it is the most glorious work of him who is philanthropy itself!” My grandfather blushed still deeper at his ungenerous surmises ; he had pitied the stranger at first, but now he revered him :—he turned once more to regard him, but his countenance had undergone a change; the holy enthusiasm that had lighted up each feature had given place to an expression of mysterious import :—a gleam ~ OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. Joe of grandeur seemed to steal across his Gothic visage, and he appeared: full of some mighty secret which he hesitated to impart. He raised the tattered nightcap that had sunk almost over his eyes, and waving his withered hand with a slow and feeble expression of dignity—** In me,” said he, with a laconic solemnity, —‘‘in me you behold the last descendant of the re- nowned Linkum Fidelius!” My grandfather gazed at him with reverence ; for though he had never heard of the illustrious personage thus pompously announced, yet there was a certain black-letter dignity in the name that peculiarly struck his fancy and commanded his respect. “© You have been kind to me,” continued the little man in black, after a momentary pause, ‘‘ and richly will I requite your kindness by making you heir to my treasures! In yonder large deal box are the volumes of my illustrious ancestor, of which I alone am the fortunate possessor. Inherit them—ponder over them, and be wise!” He grew faint with the exertion he had made, and sunk back almost breathless on his pillow. His hand, which, inspired with the importance of his subject, he had raised to my grandfather’s arm, slipped from its hold and fell over the side of the bed, and his faithful dog licked it; as if anxious to soothe the last moments of his master, and testify his gratitude to the hand that had so often cherished him. The untaught caresses of the faithful animal were not lost upon his dying master; he raised his languid eyes,—turned them on the dog, then on my grandfather ; and having given this silent recommendation—closed them for ever. The remains of the little man in black, notwithstand- ing the objections of many pious people, were decently Z 338 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS interred in the church-yard of the village; and_ his spirit, harmless as the body it once animated, has never been known to molest a living being. My grandfather complied as far as possible with his last request; he conveyed the volumes of Linkum Fidelius to his library ;—he pondered over them frequently; but whether he grew wiser, the tradition doth not mention. This much is certain, that his kindness to the poor descendant of Fidelius was amply rewarded by the approbation of his own heart, and the devoted attach- ment of the old turnspit; who, transferring his affection from his deceased master to his benefactor, became his constant attendant, and was father to a long line of curs that still flourish in the family. And thus was the Cockloft library first enriched by the invaluable folios of the sage Linkum Fidelius. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, To Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. Tuoven I am often disgusted, my good Asem, with the vices and absurdities of the men of this country, yet the women afford me a world of amusement. Their lively prattle is as diverting as the chattering of the red-tailed parrot; nor can the green-headed monkey of Timandi equal them in whim and playful- ness. But, notwithstanding these valuable qualifica- tions, I am sorry to observe they are not treated with half the attention bestowed on the before-mentioned animals. These infidels put their parrots in cages and chain their monkeys; but their women, instead of being S OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 3039 carefully shut up in harems and seraglios, are abandoned to the direction of their own reason, and suffered to run about in perfect freedom, like other domestic animals: this comes, Asem, of treating their women as rational beings, and allowing them souls. The conse- quence of this piteous neglect may easily be imagined ; —they have degenerated into all their native wildness, are seldom to be caught at home, and, at an early age, take to the streets and highways, where they rove about in droves, giving almost as much annoyance to the peaceable people as the troops of wild dogs that infest our great cities, or the flights of locusts, that sometimes spread famine and desolation over whole regions of fertility. | This propensity to relapse into pristine wildness convinces me of the untameable disposition of the sex, who may indeed be partially domesticated by a long course of confinement and restraint, but the moment they are restored to personal freedom become wild as the young partridge of this country, which, though scarcely half hatched, will take to the fields and run about with the shell upon its back. Notwithstanding their wildness, however, they are remarkably easy of access, and suffer themselves to be approached, at certain hours of the day, without any symptoms of apprehension; and I have even happily succceded in detecting them at their domestic occupa- tions. One of the most important of these consists in thumping vehemently on a kind of musical instrument, and producing a confused, hideous, and indefinable uproar, which they call the description of a battle—a jest, no doubt, for they are wonderfully facetious at times, and make great practice of passing jokes upon yA 540 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS strangers. Sometimes they employ themselves in paint- ing little caricatures of landscapes, wherein they dis- play their singular drollery in bantering nature fairly out of countenance—tricking her out in the finery of copper skies, purple rivers, calico rocks, red grass, clouds that look like old clothes set adrift by the tem- pest, and foxy trees, whose melancholy foliage, drooping and curling most fantastically, reminds me of an un- dressed periwig hanging on astick in a barber’s window. At other times, they employ themselves in acquiring a smattering of languages spoken by nations on the other side of the globe, as they find their own language not ‘sufficiently copious to express their multifarious ideas. But their most important domestic avocation is to embroider, on satin or muslin, flowers of a non-descript kind, in which the great art is to make them as unlike nature as possible ; or to fasten little bits of silver, gold, tinsel, and glass, on long strips of muslin, which they drag after them with much dignity whenever they go abroad—a fine lady, like a bird of paradise, being estimated by the length of her tail. | But do not, my friend, fall into the enormous error of supposing that the exercise of these arts is attended with any useful or profitable result: believe me, thou couldst not indulge an idea more unjust and injurious ; for it appears to be an established maxim among the women of this country, that a lady loses her dignity when she condescends to be useful, and forfeits all rank in society the moment she can be convicted of earning a farthing. Their labours, therefore, are directed not towards supplying their household, but in decking their persons, and—generous souls !—they deck their persons, not so much to please themselves, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 341 as to gratify others, particularly strangers. I am confident thou wilt stare at this, my good Asem, .accus- tomed as thou art to our eastern females, who shrink in blushing timidity even from the glances of a lover, and are so chary of their favours, that they seem fear- ful of lavishing their smiles too profusely even on their husbands. Here, on the contrary, the stranger has the first place in female regard, and so far do they carry their hospitality, that I have seen a fine lady slight a dozen tried friends and real admirers, who lived in her smiles and made her happiness their study, merely to allure the vague and wandering glances of a stranger, who viewed her person with indifference, and treated her advances with contempt.—By the whiskers of our sublime bashaw, but this is highly flattering to a foreigner! and thou mayest judge how particularly pleasing to one who is, like myself, an ardent admirer of the sex. Far be it from me to condemn this ex- traordinary manifestation of good-will—let their own countrymen look to that. Be not alarmed, I conjure thee, my dear Asem, lest I should be tempted, by these beautiful barbarians, to break the faith I owe to the three-and-twenty wives, from whom my unhappy destiny has perhaps severed me for ever:—no, Asem, neither time, nor the bitter succession of misfortunes that pursues me, can shake from my heart the memory of former attachments. I listen with tranquil heart to the strumming and prattling of these fair sirens: their whimsical paintings touch not the tender chord of my affections; and I would sull defy their fascinations, though they trailed after them trains as long as the gorgeous trappings which are dragged at the heels of the holy camel of Mecca; nay, 342 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS even though they equalled the tail of the great beast in our prophet’s vision, which measured three hundred and forty-nine leagues, two miles, three furlongs, and a hand’s breadth in longitude. The dress of these women is, if possible, more eccen- tric and whimsical than their deportment; and they take an inordinate pride in certain ornaments which are probably derived from their savage progenitors. A woman of this country, dressed out for an exhibition, is loaded with as many ornaments as a Circassian slave when brought out for sale. Their heads are tricked out with little bits of horn or shell, cut into fantastic shapes; and they seem to emulate each other in the number of these singular baubles, like the women we have scen in our journeys to Aleppo, who cover their heads with the entire shell of a tortoise, and, thus equipped, are the envy of all their less fortunate ac- quaintance. They also decorate their necks and ears with coral, gold chains, and glass beads, and load their fingers with a variety of rings; though, I must con- fess, I have never perceived that they wear any in their noses—as has been affirmed by many travellers. We have heard much of their painting themselves most hideously, and making use of bear’s-grease in great profusion—but this, I solemnly assure thee, is a mis- statement: civilization, no doubt, having gradually extirpated these nauseous practices. It is true, I have seen two or three of these females who had disguised their features with paint, but then it was merely to give a tinge of red to their cheeks, and did not look very frightful; and as to omtment, they rarely use any now, except occasionally a little Grecian oil for their hair, which gives it a glossy, greasy, and, as OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 343 they think, very comely appearance. The last men- tioned class of females, I take it for granted, have been but lately caught, and still retain strong traits of their savage propensities. The most flagrant and inexcusable fault, however, which I find in these lovely savages, is the shameless and abandoned exposure of their persons. Wilt thou not suspect me of exaggeration when I affirm —wilt not thou blush for them, most discreet mussulman, when I declare to thee—that they are so lost to all sense of modesty as to expose the whole of their faces from their forehead to the chin, and they even go abroad with their hands uncovered !—Monstrous indelicacy ! But what I am going to disclose will doubtless appear to thee still more incredible. ‘Though I can- not forbear paying a tribute of admiration to the beau- tiful faces of these fair infidels, yet I must give it as my firm opinion that their persons are preposterously unseemly. In vain did I look around me, on my first landing, for those divine forms of redundant propor- tions, which answer to the true standard of eastern beauty—not a single fat fair one could I behold among the multitudes that thronged the streets: the females that passed in review before me, tripping sportively along, resembled a procession of shadows, returning to their graves at the crowing of the cock. This meagreness I first ascribed to their excessive volubility, for I have somewhere seen it advanced by a learned doctor, that the sex were endowed with a peculiar activity of tongue, m order that they might practise talking as a healthful exercise, necessary to their confined and sedentary mode of life, “This exer- cise, it was natural to suppose, would be carried to j44 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS great excess in a logocracy. ‘Too true,” thought J, ** they have converted, what was undoubtedly meant as a beneficent gift, into a noxious habit, that steals the flesh from their bones and the rose from their cheeks—they absolutely talk themselves thin!” Judge then of my surprise when I was assured, not long since, that this meagreness was considered the perfection of personal beauty, and that many a lady starved herself, with all the obstinate perseverance of a pious dervise, into a fine figure! “‘ Nay more,” said my informer, ‘“‘they will often sacrifice their healths in this eager pursuit of skeleton beauty, and drink vinegar, and eat pickles, to keep themselves within the scanty outlines of the fashions.’—Faugh! Allah preserve me from such beauties, who contaminate their pure blood with noxious recipes; who impiously sacrifice the best gifts of Heaven to a preposterous and mistaken vanity. Ere long I shall not be surprised to see them scarring their faces like the negroes of Congo, flattening their noses in imitation of the Hottentots, or like the barbarians of Ab-al Timar, distorting their lips and ears out of all natural dimensions. Since I received this informa- tion, I cannot contemplate a fine figure, without think- ing of a vinegar cruet; nor look at a dashing belle, without fancying her a pot of pickled cucumbers! What a difference, my friend, between these shades and the plump beauties of ‘Tripoli,—what a contrast between an infidel fair one and my favourite wife, Fatima, whom I bought by the hundred weight, and had trundled home in a wheelbarrow ! But enough for the present ; [am promised a faith- ful account of the arcana of a lady’s toilette—a complete initiation into the arts, mysteries, spells and potions, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 345 in short the whole chemical process, by which she reduces herself down to the most fashionable standard of insignificance ; together with specimens of the strait waistcoats, the lacings, the bandages, and the various ingenious instruments with which she puts nature to the rack, and tortures herself inte a proper figure to ‘be admired. Farewell, thou sweetest of slave-drivers.! The echoes that repeat to a lover’s ear the song of his mistress are not more soothing than tidings from those we love. Let thy answer to my letters be speedy; and never, I pray thee, for a moment, cease to watch over the prosperity of my house, and the welfare of my beloved wives. Let them want for nothing, my friend, but feed them plentifully on honey, boiled rice, and water-gruel ; so that when I return to the blessed land of my fathers, if that shall ever be, I may find them improved in size and loveliness, and sleek as the graceful elephants that range the green valley of Abimar. , Ever thine, MusrarPua. 346 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS NO. XIX.—-THURSDAY, DECEMBER Jl, 1807. FROM MY ELBOW=CHAIR. Havine returned to town, and once more taken formal possession of my elbow-chair, it behoves me to discard the rural feelings, and the rural sentiments, in which I have for some time past indulged, and devote myself more exclusively to the edification of the town. As I feel at this moment a chivalric spark of gallantry playing around my heart, and one of those dulcet emotions of cordiality, which an old bachelor will sometimes entertain towards the divine sex, I am determined to gratify the sentiment for once, and devote this number exclusively to the ladies. I would not, however, have our fair readers imagine that we wish to flatter ourselves into their good graces; de- voutly as’we adore them, (and what true cavalier does not?) and heartily as we desire to flourish in the mild sunshine of their smiles, yet we scorn to insinuate our- selves into their favour, unless it be as honest friends, sincere well-wishers, and disinterested advisers. If in the course of this number they find us rather prodigal of our encomiums, they will have the modesty to. ascribe it to the excess of their own merits; if they find us extremely indulgent to their faults, they will impute it rather to the superabundance of our good nature than to any servile fear of giving offence. The following letter of Mustapha falls in exactly. with the current of my purpose. As I have before mentioned that his letters are without dates, we are obliged to give them very irregularly, without any regard to chronological order. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 347 The present one appears to have been written not long after his arrival, and antecedent to several already published. It is more in the familiar and colloquial style than the others. Will Wizard declares he has translated it with fidelity, excepting that he has omitted several remarks on the waltz, which the honest mussulman eulogizes with great enthusiasm ; comparing it to certain voluptuous dances of the harem. Will regretted exceedingly that the indclicacy of several of these observations compelled their total exclusion, as he wishes to give all possible encouragement to this popular and amiable exhibition. LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, Yo Muley Helim al Raggi, surnamed the agreeable Ragamuffin, chief mouniebank and buffo-dancer to his Highness. Tue 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 further particulars concerning the manners of the barbarians who hold me in 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 struction. A few days since, just as I had finished my coffee, 548 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS and was perfuming my whiskers preparatory to a morn- ing walk, [ was waited upon by an inhabitant of this place, a gay young infidel, who has of late cultivated my acquaintance. He presented me with a square bit of painted pasteboard, which, he informed me, would entitle me to admittance to the city assembly. 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 occasions, 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 whis- kers was considerably above my apprehension, 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 religious institution, and had little doubt but that this must be a solemnity of the kind. 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 aside 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 exciting the atten- tion of the gaping multitude. It was long after the shades of night had fallen be- fore my friend appeared to conduct me to the assembly. “ These infidels,” thought I, ‘* shroud themselves in mystery, and seek ,the aid of gloom and ‘darkness, to heighten the solemnity of their pious orgies.” Re- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF,. ESQ. 349 solving 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 emo- tion of awe stealing over my senses as I approached the majestic pile. My imagination pictured something si- milar to a descent into the cave of Dom-Daniel, where the necromancers of the East are taught their infernal arts. I entered with the same gravity of demeanour that I would have approached the holy temple of 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 man- sions of the Houris, the elysium of the faithful !?— How tame appeared all the descriptions of enchanted palaces in our Arabian poctry! 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 invitation, as did Gabriel when he beckoned our holy prophet to heaven. Shall I own the weak- ness 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 bewitching 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 pleasing emotions. Oh, Muley, 350 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS never shall I again wonder that an infidel should prove a recreant to the single solitary wife allotted him, when even thy friend, armed with all the precepts of Maho- met, can so easily prove faithless to three-and-twenty ! *‘ Whither have you led me?” said I, at length, to my companion, “ and to whom do these beautiful crea- tures belong? certainly this must be the seraglio of the grand bashaw of the city, and a most happy bashaw must he be, to possess treasures which even-his high- ness of Tripoli cannot parallel.” ‘ Have a care,” cried my companion, “how you talk about seraglios, or youll have all these gentle nymphs about your ears; for seraglio is a word which, beyond ali 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 termit.” ‘ Ah, ha!” 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 do you suppose they might — be bought for ?”?—— Before 1 could receive an answer, my attention was attracted by two or three good-looking, middle-sized men, who being dressed in black, a colour univer sally worn in this country by the ee and dervises, I im- mediately concluded to be high priests, and was con- firmed in my original opinion that this was a religious ceremony. ‘These reverend personages are entitled managers, and enjoy unlimited authority in the as- semblies, beng armed with swords, with which, I am told, they would infallibly put any lady to death who OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 351 infringed the laws of the temple. They walked round the room with great solemnity, and, with an air of pro- found 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 opportunity, picked it up unobserved, and found it to contain some unintelligible words and the mystic num- ber 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, ever 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 par- ticularly serviceable against the dangers of thy pro- fession. . Shortly after the 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 thrown into great confusion and apparent consternation.—They hurried to and fro about the room, and at length formed themselves into little 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 phrensy, tossing about their heads in a ludicrous style from side to side, and indulging in ex- travagant contortions of figure ;—now throwing their heels into the air, and anon whirling round with the $52 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS velocity of the castern idolaters, who think they pay a grateful homage to the sun by imitating his motions. T expected every moment to see them fall down in con- vulsions, 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 peculiae touching ; but I was highly gratified by the exempiary dard ute 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 antics. *«¢ And pray,” said I, “ who is the divinity that pre- sides in this splendid mosque ?”—“ The divinity! Oh, I understand—you mean the belle of the evening; w have a new one every season.—The one at present in fashion is that lady you see yonder, dressed in white, with pink ribbons, and a crowd of adorers around her.” ‘“‘ Truly,” cried I, *‘ this is the pleasantest 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 im an error concerning the intent of this ceremony. You are now ina place of public amuse- “ment, not of public worship; and the pretty looking young men you see making such violent and grotesque distortions are merely indulging in our favourite amusement of dancing.” “I cry your mercy,” ex- claimed I, “‘ these then are the dancing men and women of the town, such as we have in our principal OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 3593 cities, who hire themselves out for the entertainme:t 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 in 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 ito the regions of the Houris |—Dancing for amuse- ment {tial 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 amusement !—the very idea makes my bones ache, and I never think of it without being obliged to apply my handkerchief to my forehead, and fan myself into some degree of coolness. ** And pray,” said I, when my astonishment had a little subsided, “do these musicians also toil for amuse- ment, or are they confined to their cage, like birds, to sing for the gratification of others? I should think the former was the case, from the animation with which they flourish 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 person- -agesintheroom. The fiddler puts the whole assembly in motion, and directs their movements, like the master of a puppet-show, who sets all his pasteboard gentry kicking by a jerk of his fingers.—There now—look at that dapper little gentleman yonder, who appears to be suffering the pangs of dislocation in every limb: he is the most expert puppet in the room, and performs, not AA OF / ae WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS so much for his own amusement, as for that of the bystanders.” Just then, the little gentleman, having finished one of his 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 no- body 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 afflicted by numerous epidemical diseases, which travel from house to house, from city to city, with the regu- larity of a caravan. Among these, the most formidable is this dancing mania, which prevails chiefly through- out the winter. It at first seized on a few people of fashion, and being indulged in moderation was a cheer- ful 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 im- ported, and the sticklers for the latter opinion traced it to a cargo of trumpery from France, as they had be- fore 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 melancholy, to witness a fit of this dancing malady. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 300 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 gentleman 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, some- times on the other, and sometimes on no leg at all:— and this they call exhibiting the graces! By the nine- teen thousand capers of the great mountebank of Da- mascus, but these graces must be something like the crooked backed dwarf Shabrac, who is sometimes per- mitted 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 perspirations, 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 house- hold spectre, neither giving nor receiving enjoyment ; in the evening hurries to another dance; receives 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 rational beings; nay, more, their countrymen would fain persuade me they have souls! Is it not a thou- AAR 356 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS sand 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 cheek of its dimpled smile, the spirits of their cheerful hi- larity, and the limbs of their elastic vigour :—which hurries them off in the spring-time of existence; or, if they survive, yields to the arms of a youthful bride- eroom a frame wrecked in the storms of dissipation, and struggling with premature infirmity. Alas, Mu- ley! may I not ascribe to this cause the number of little old women I meet with in this country, from the age of eighteen 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 famous dancer in his time ?”—** O, no,” replied my friend, ‘ he was only a general.”—“* Good ; but then he must have been great at a cotillion, or expert at a fiddle-stick—or why is his memorial here?”—“ Quite the contrary,” answered my companion; “history 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 de- liverer of his country; and, as our nation is remark- able for gratitude to great men, it always does honour to their memory, by placing their monuments over the doors of taverns, or in the corners of dancing-rooms.” OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ES@. o5o7 From thence my friend and I strolled into a small apartment adjoming 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 round a table studying _hiero- glyphics. I approached them with reverence, 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, ex- claimed triumphantly, ‘ Two bullets and a bragger !” and swept all the money into his pocket. He has dis- covered a key to the hieroglyphics, thought I—happy mortal!—-no doubt his name will be immortalized. Willing, however, to be satisfied, I looked round on my companion with an inquiring eye: he understood me, and informed me that these were a company of friends, who had met together to win each other’s money and beagreeable. “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 pleasure—and who win each other’s money by way of being agreeable—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 !” Thy friend, MustaPHa, 58 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Nune est bibendum, nunc pede libero Pulsanda tellus. Hor. Now is the tyme for wine and myrthful sportes, For daunce, 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 harmo- nious 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 de- votions to this tutelary deity, and to make an offering at her shrine of the few pale and transient roses they gathered in their healthful retreat. The fiddler rosins his bow—the card-table devotee is shuffling her pack ~—the young ladies are industriously spangling muslins —and the tea-party heroes are airing their chapeaux bras, and pease-blossom breeches, to prepare for figuring 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 quaffed the pure spring, exchanges the sparkling water for still more sparkling champaign, and deserts hw OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 359 the nymph of the fountain, to enlist under the standard of jolly Bacchus. In short, now is the important time of the year in which to harangue the bon-ton reader ; and, like 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 num- ber 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 immediate attention. A host of appeals, petitions, and letters of advice, are now before me; and I believe the shortest way to satisfy my petitioners, memorialists, and advisers, will be to publish their letters, as I sus- pect 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 liberty of appealing to you on a subject, which, though considered merely as a very good joke, has occasioned me great 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 Tam 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 freely, 360 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS there are certain young gentlemen who seem to con- sider fashionable parties as 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 suffering in the least by it. It was but lately that I went to a private ball with anew 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 third quality; and I was in 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 having these offenders punished by law ; and whether it would not be advisable for ladies to mention in their cards of invitation, as a postscript, “ Exchanging hats and shawls positively prohibited.”—At any rate, [ would thank you, Mr. Evergreen, to discountenance the thing totally, by publishing in your paper that stealing a hat is no joke. Your humbie servant, Water WITHERS. My correspondent is informed, that the police have determined 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, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFYF, ESQ. 361 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!” MarcanretT TIMson. DEAR ANTHONY, Going down Broadway this morning inagreat 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 sur- prised, until, on resorting to my pocket-glass, I dis- covered that it was no other than my old acquaintance Clarinda 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 good- ness of my eyes. I beg of you, Mr. Evergreen, if you have any feeling for your contemporaries, to dis- courage 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 aman. 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 after- wards. Your humble servant, Roperic Worry. DEAR MR. EVERGREEN, The other night, at Richard the Third, I sat be- 362 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS hind 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, us 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 manufacturing a modern fine lady. I would have you caution your fair readers, however, to be very careful in the management of their machinery, as a deplorable accident ae last assembly, in consequence of the architecture of a lady’s figure not being sufficiently strong. In the middle Sf one of the cotillions, the company was suddenly alarmed by a tremendous 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-wing. 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 Surgeons’ Hall. I have since commenced a dissertation on the subject, in which I shall treat of the superiority of those figures manufactured by steel, stay-tape, and whalebone, 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 waist 1s mn exact proportion OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 363 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 fainting; and whether it would not be advisable isi a lady, ‘elie 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 discovered the secret of that notorious juggler, who offered to squeeze himself into a quart bottle; and I shall de- monstrate, 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 rheumatics. This dissertation shall be published, as soon as finished, and distributed gratis among boarding-school madams, and all worthy matrons is are aabts that their daughters should sit straight, 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 weasel and a stuffed alligator; 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 five evenings since, a young lady whose unparalleled impalpability of waist 364 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS was the envy of the drawing-room burst with an im- portant secret, and had three ribs of her corset frac- tured on the spot! MR. EVERGREEN, Sir,—I am one of those industrious gemmen who labour hard to obtain currency in the fashionable world. Ihave gone 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 flame-coloured stockings, at every concert and ball to which [ 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 little 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 300 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 charter a curricle for a month, and have my cypher put on it, as is done by certain dashers of my acquaimtance. | Yours to serve, - MALVOLIO DuUBSTER. OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. ~ 365 TEA, A POEM. FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ES@. And earnestly recommended to the attention of all Maidens of a certain age Op 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 grace 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 deprived you of all those gay dreams, that would dance In your brains at fifteen, and your bosoms entrance; And has forced you almost to renounce in despair The hope of a husband’s affection and care— Since such is the case, and a case rather hard! Permit one who holds you in special regard To furnish such hints in your loveless estate As may shelter your names from detraction 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, 366 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS «To stir up the toil and to double the trouble, That fire may burn, and that caldron may bubble.” When the party commences, all starch’d and all glum, They talk of the weather, their corns, or sit mum: 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 doting mamma How her ten weeks old baby will laugh and say taa! But tea, that enlivener of wit and of soul— More loquacious by far than the draughts of the bow], Soon unloosens the tongue and enlivens the mind, And enlightens their eyes to the faults of mankind. "Twas thus with the Pythia, who served at the fount That flow’d near the far-famed Parnassian mount, While the steam was inhaled 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 fulfil. 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 relish’d 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 ‘“* Nobody regrets the thing deeper than I,” OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFP, ESQ. 367 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 fell sisters astonish’d the Scot, In predicting of Banquo’s descendants the lot, Making shadows of kings, amid flashes of light, 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 pass'd in review. 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 ! As our matrons are richer, and rise to souchong. With hyson—a beverage that’s still more refined, Our ladies of fashion enliven their mind, Aud by nods, innuendoes, and hints, and what not, Reputations and tea send together to pot. While madam in cambrics and laces array’d, With her plate and her liveries in splendid parade, Will 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! 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, ye Chouquas, so free, Who discharge on our coast your cursed cargoes of tea, Oh! think, as ye waft the sad weed from your strand, Of the plagues and vexations ye deal to our land. 368 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 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 this 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 wander’d 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 ; That can blot from their bosoms that tenderness true, Which from female to female for ever is due! O! 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! O spare me, a tea-table toasting ! OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 369 NO. XX.—MONDAY, JANUARY 25, 1808. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIP. Extremum hunc mihi concede laborem.— Virg. “¢ Soft you, a word or two before we part.” Iw this season of festivity, when the gate of time swings open on its hinges, and an honest rosy-faced New-Year comes waddling in, like a jolly fat-sided butler, loaded with good wishes, good-humour, and minced pies ;—at this joyous era it has been the cus- tom, from time immemorial, in this ancient and respecta- ble city, for periodical writers, from reverend, grave, and potent essayists like ourselves, down to the humble but industrious editors of magazines, reviews, and news- papers, to tender their subscribers the compliments of the season; and when they have slyly thawed their hearts with a little of the sunshine of flattery, to con- clude by delicately dunning them for their arrears of subscription money. In like manner the carriers of newspapers, who undoubtedly belong to the ancient and honourable order of literati, do regularly 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 pa- trons are well pleased to pay them exactly twenty-five cents. In walking 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 out to receive the com- pliments of an ugly old woman, who last spring was BB 370 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS employed by Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room and put things in order; a phrase which, if rightly under- stood, means little else than huddling every thing into holes and corners, so that if I want to find any par- ticular article, it is, in the language of an humble but expressive saying,—“ looking for a needle in a hay- stack.” 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 cus- tom of putting things to rights:—so giving the old witch a pistareen, I desired her forthwith to mount her broomstick 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 practice of making a market of congratulations ; and, in addition to always allowing thirteen to the dozen, do with great liberality, 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 obelisk, 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 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 ma- hogany 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 371 ‘by the renowned Rip Van Dam, who always did honour 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. *‘ Truly,” observes my grandfather, 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 innumera- ble minced pies ; and smacking the lips of all 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 grand- father, were first invented those notable cakes, hight new-year-cookies, which originally were impressed on one side with the honest burly countenance of the illus- trious Rip; and on the other with that of the noted St. Nicholas, vulgarly called Santaclaus: of all the saints in the calendar 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 with great regret, however, I observe that the simplicity of this venerable usage has been much violated by modern pretenders 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 families are out-dazzled by modern upstarts, and mush- room cockneys. In addition to this divine origin of new-year festivity, there is something exquisitely grateful, to a good-na- tured mind, in seeing every face dressed in smiles :— BBR 372 ' WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS in hearing the oft-repeated salutations that flow spon- taneously from the heart to the lips ;—in beholding the poor, for once, enjoying the smiles of plenty and for- getting 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 ne- groes, those holiday-loving rogues, gorgeously arrayed in cast-off finery, collected in juntos at corners, dis- playing their white teeth, and making the welkin ring with bursts of laughter,—loud enough to crack even the icy cheek of old winter. There is something so pleasant 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 usage of social intercourse, into an idle and unmeaning ceremony. ”Tis the annual festival of good-humour :—it comes in the dead of win- ter, when nature is without a charm, when our plea- sures are contracted to the fire-side, and where every thing that unlocks the icy fetters of the heart, and sets the genial current flowing, should be cherished, as a stray lamb found in the wilderness, or a flower bloom- ing among thorns and briers. Animated by these sentiments, it was with peculiar satisfaction I perceived that the last new-year was kept with more than ordinary enthusiasm. It seemed as if the good old times had rolled back again, and brought with them all the honest, unceremonious 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 373 hand of time has stolen away, or turned toa deformity ; when the women were more simple, more domestic, more lovely, and more true; and when even the sun, like a hearty old blade as he is, shone with a genial lustre unknown in these degenerate days:—in short, those fairy times when I wasa 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 will, that chaste and holy salute which was so fashionable in the happy days of Governor Rip and the patriarchs.— Even the Miss Cocklofts, who belong to a family that is the last intrenchment behind which the manners of the good old school have retired, made.violent opposi- tion; and whenever a gentleman entered the room, immediately put themselves in a posture of defence :— this Will Wizard, with his usual shrewdness, 1sists was only to give the visitor a hint that they expected an attack; and declares he has uniformly observed that the resistance 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 venerable cus- tom, sanctioned by time and our ancestors, and. more 374 WHIM-WHAMS AND. OPINIONS especially by my own inclinations, I will take this opportunity to salute my readers with as many good wishes as I can possibly spare; for 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 somewhat 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 in- troduced ourselves to the public: and surely periodical writers haye the same right of dating from the com- mencement of their works, that monarchs have from the time of their coronation; or our most puissant republic, from the declaration of its independence. These good wishes are warmed into more than usual benevolence, hy the thought that Iam 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 community. 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 opportunity 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, accounta- ble to the mob for our actions, or dependent on their OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 375 smiles for support :—this much, however, 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 this, I am determined to act in quite a different way; for as I have lived, so should I wish to die, in my own way, without imitating any person, whatever may be his rank, talents, or reputation. Besides, if I know our trio, we have no enmities to 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 stric- tures, 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 ridicule. Even at this moment we feel a glow of parting philan- 376 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS thropy stealing upon us :—a sentiment of cordial good- will 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 little ungently, it was purely in that spirit of hearty affectjon 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 be not considered an ample justification, so much the worse; for in that case I fear we shall remain for ever un- justified ;—a most desperate extremity, and worthy of every man’s commiseration ! One circumstance, in particular, has tickled us mightily as we jogged along; and that is, the asto- nishing 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 find that suspicion has never pointed to us as the authors of Salmagundi. Our gray-beard speculations have been most bounti- fully 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 blush- ing 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 beyond seas, in which human nature is for the most part wickedly mangled and debauched, OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. O1d have never once imagined this work was a genuine and most authentic history; that the Cocklofts were a real family, dwelling in the city ;—paying 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 living 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 freebooters in the republic of letters; who, like deer, goats, and divers other graminivorous ani- mals, gain subsistence by gorging upon the buds and leaves of the young shrubs of the forest, thereby robbing them of their verdure, and retarding their progress to maturity. It also occurred to us that though an au- thor might lawfully, in all countries, kill himself out- right, yet this privilege does not extend to the raising himself from the dead, should he be ever so anxious ; and all that is left him in such a case 1s to take the 378 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS benefit of the metempsychosis act, and revive under a new name and form. Far be it, therefore, from us to condemn ourselves to useless embarrassments, should we ever be disposed to resume the guardianship of this learned city of Gotham, and finish this invaluable work, which is yet but half completed. We hereby openly and seriously declare that we are not dead, but intend, if it please Providence, to live 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 full expectation of shuffling off the remnant of existence, after the excel- lent fashion of that merry Grecian, who died laughing. TO THE LADIES. BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. Next to our being a knot of independent old bache- lors, there is nothing on which we pride ourselves more highly than upon possessing that true chivalric spirit of gallantry, which distinguished the days of king Arthur, and his valiant knights of the Round-table. We can- not, therefore, leave the lists where we have so long been tilting at folly, without giving a farewell saluta- tion 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 excel all the trophies of honour, and all the rewards of ambition. ‘True it is that we have suffered in- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 379 finite perils, in standing forth as their champions, from the sly attacks of sundry arch caitiffs, who in the over- flowings of their malignity have even accused us of entering the lists 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 insinuations: but there is something manly, and ingenuous, in making 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 tothe deadly sin of GooD-NATURE 3; hoping and expecting forgiveness from our good-na- 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, do generally in their last dying speech make a confession of all their previous offences, with great openness and candour, which confession 1s al- ways read. with great delight by all true lovers of bio- graphy. Still, however, notwithstanding our notorious devo- tion to the gentle sex, we have endeavoured, on divers occasions, with all the polite and becoming delicacy of true respect, to reclaim them from many of those de- lusive follies and unseemly peccadillos in which they are unhappily too prone to indulge. We have warned © them against the sad consequences of encountering mid- night damps and withering wintry blasts—we have en- deavoured, with pious hand, to snatch them from the wildering mazes of the waltz, and thus rescuing them 880 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS from the arms of strangers, to restore them to the bosoms of their friends—to preserve them from the nakedness, the famine, the cobweb muslins, 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 dissipated world, where they wander about, careless of their value, until they lose their original worth; and to restore them, before 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. Modern 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 has 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 gaiety of a ball-room? The fair one who is for ever in the career of amusement may for a while dazzle, astonish, and entertain, but we are con- tent with coldly admiring ; and fondly turn from glitter 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 OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 381 contaminations; whose brilliant minds, like the stars of the firmament, are destined to shed their light abroad and gladden every beholder with their radiance—to withhold them from the world would be doing it in- justice: they are inestimable gems, which were never formed to be shut up in caskets; but to be the pride and ornament of elegant society. We have endeavoured always to discriminate be- tween a female of this superior order, and the thought- less votary of pleasure; who, destitute of intellectual resources, is servilely dependent on others for every little pittance of enjoyment—who exhibits herself in- ~ cessantly amid the noise, the giddy frolic, and capricious variety of fashionable assemblages—dissipating her languid affections on a crowd—lavishing her ready smiles with indiscriminate prodigality on the worthy, or the undeserving—and listening, with equal vacancy of mind, to the conversation of the enlightened, the frivolity of the coxcomb, and the flourish of the fiddle- stick. There is a certain artificial polish—a common-place vivacity acquired by perpetually mingling in the beaw- monde ; which, in the commerce of the world, supplies the place of natural suavity and good-humour, but is purchased at the expense of all original and sterling traits of character. By a kind of fashionable discipline, the eye is taught to brighten, the lip to smile, and the whole countenance to emanate with the semblance of friendly welcome—while the bosom is unwarmed by a single spark of genuine kindness, or good will. This elegant simulation 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 : 882 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS it turns with delight to the timid retiring fair one, whose smile is the smile of nature; whose blush is the soft suffusion of delicate 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 plea- sure, 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 little allegory in one of the manuscripts of the sage Mustapha, which, being in some measure applicable 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 liberty they enjoy. A youthful Arab of this tribe, a simple son of nature, at length growing weary of his precarious and unsettled mode of life; determined to set out in search of a more per- manent abode. ‘I will seek,” said he, “some happy region, some generous clime where the dews of heaven diffuse fertility ;—I will find out some unfailing stream ; and, forsaking the roving life of my forefathers, will settle on its border, dispose my mind to gentle plea- sures and tranquil enjoyments, and never wander more.” Enchanted with this picture of pastoral felicity, he OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 383 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 lifted up his eyes and beheld extended before him, in smiling luxuriance, the fertile regions of Arabia the Happy. Gently swelling hills, tufted with blooming groves, swept down into luxuriant vales, enamelled 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 temperate serenity, an air of voluptuous repose, a smile of contented 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 solitudes of the desert. With fond impatience he hastened to make choice of a stream where he might fix his habitation, and taste the promised 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 completely answered his high- raised expectations. One abounded with wild and pic- turesque beauty, but it was capricious and unsteady in its course ; sometimes dashing its angry billows against the rocks, and often raging and overflowmg its banks, Another flowed smoothly along, without even a ripple or a murmur; but its current dull, turbid, and. slug- gish. 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 384 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS graceful in its meanderings;—but it had a cloying sweetness that palled upon the taste: while a fifth pos- sessed a sparkling vivacity and a pungency of flavour, that deterred the wanderer from repeating his draught. The youthful Bedouin began to weary with fruitless trials and repeated disappointments, when his attention was suddenly attracted by a lively brook whose dancing waves glittered in the sunbeams, and whose prattling current communicated an air of bewitching gaiety to the surrounding landscape. The heart of the way- worn traveller beat with expectation ; but on regarding it attentively in its course, he found that it constantly 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 alike fos- tered by its waves, and that its current was often inter- rupted by unprofitable weeds. With idle ambition it at length expanded itself beyond its proper bounds, and spread into a shallow waste of water, destitute of beauty or utility, and babbling along with uninterest- ing vivacity and vapid turbulence. The 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 hope- less pilgrimage, and had rambled for some time along the margin of a gentle rivulet, before he became sen- sible of its beauties.—It was a simple pastoral stream, which, shunning the noonday glare, pursued its unob- trusive course through retired and tranquil vales ;— now dimpling among flowery banks and tufted shrub- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFYF, ESQ. 385 bery; now winding among spicy groves, whose aro- matic 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 brightened 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 turtle-dove, the timid fawn, the soft-eyed gazel, and all the rural populace, who joy in the sequestered haunts of nature, resorted to its vicinity.—Its pure transparent waters rolled 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 like nectar to his lips ;—he bounded with transport, for he had found the object of his wayfaring. ‘‘ Here,” cried he, “ will I pitch my tent ;—here will I pass my days; for pure, O fair stream! is thy gentle current; beau- teous are thy borders; and the grove must be a para- dise that is refreshed by thy meanderings !” Pendent opera interrupta.— Virg. The work’s all aback.—Link. Fd. . “¢ How hard it is,” exclaims the divine Con-futse, better known among the illiterate by the name of Con- fucius, “ for a man to bite off his own nose!” At this moment, I, William Wizard, Esq. feel the full force of this remark, and cannot but give vent to my tribulation : ONE 386 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS at being obliged, 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: ship- wrecks, of failures and bankruptcies; they are trifling mishaps which, from their frequency, excite but little astonishment or sympathy ; but it is not often that we hear of a man’s letting immortality slip through his fingers; and when he does meet with such a mis- fortune, who would deny him the comfort of bewailing his calamity ? Next to the 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 excellent jokes, not one of which but was good enough to make every fine figure in corsets lite- rally split her sides with laughter.—In some such pre- dicament am I placed at present; and I do protest 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 bothered with. In the first place, I had, with infinite labour and pains, and by consulting the divine Plato, Sancho- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 387 niathon, Apollonius Rhodius, Sir John Harrington, ‘Noah Webster, and others, fully refuted all those wild theories respecting the first settlement of our venerable country ; and proved, beyond contradiction, that America, so far from being, as the writers:of up- start 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 Assiniboils; 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 hieroglyphics discovered on those fragments of the moon, which have lately fallen, with singular propriety, in a neighbouring state, and have thrown considerable light on the state of literature and the arts in that planet —showing that the universal language which prevails there is High Dutch, thereby proving it to be the most ancient and original tongue, and corroborating the opinion of a celebrated poet, that it is the language 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 per- formances 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 like a perfect harlequin—that the white mice were merely powdered for the occasion—and that the new moon had a most outrageous copper nose. \ 388 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS But my most profound and erudite essay in embryo is an analytical, hypercritical review of these Salma- gundi lucubrations; 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 exposing all the similarities, resemblances, synonymes, analogies, coin- cidences, &c. &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—‘ Ienorantia neminem excusat” —and the same has been extended to literature: 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 magnifying-glass, and with Salmagundi in hand and a table full of books before me, to mouse over them alter- nately, in a corner of Cockloft library; carefully com- paring 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 ! —little did he think that his careless, unstudied ef- fusions 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 metamor- phoses, of which, I’ll be bound, Langstaff himself is ignorant. Thus, for instance—The Little Man in OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 389 Black is evidently no less a personage than old Goody Blake, or Goody Something, filched from the Spectator, 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 T waits, in Lampedo, and endea- voured 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 conjurer ; and that they both lived in villages, the inhabitants of which were distinguished by a most respectful abhor- rence of hobgoblins 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 in 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 ac- quaintance with the black-letter literati of the East ;— but this Tripolitan trick will not pass here.—I refer those who wish to detect his larceny to one of those wholesale jumbles, or hodge-podge collections of science, which, like 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 encyclopedia. ‘There, under the title of magi, Egypt, cards, or hieroglyphics, I for- get which, will be discovered an idea similar to that of Mustapha, as snugly concealed as truth at the bottom of a well, or the misletoe 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 the humbler walks of criticism. 390 WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS This is assuredly a most unpardonable error of the sage Mustapha, 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 Bar- barossa, and the sword of Khalid, as glibly as our good christian soldiers anathematize body and soul, or a sailor his eyes and odd limbs. Now I solemnly pledge myself to the world that in all my travels through the Kast, in Persia, Arabia, China, and Egypt, I never heard man, woman, or child, utter any of those preposterous and new fangled asseverations; and that so far from swearing by any man’s hiead, it is considered, through- out the East, the greatest insult that 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 dic- tionary ; but all these minutize I bequeath to the Lil- liputian literati of this sagacious community, who are fond of hunting “such small deer,” and I earnestly pray they may find full employment for a twelvemonth to come. But the most outrageous plagiarisms of friend Launcelot are those made on sundry living personages. Thus: Tom Straddle has been evidently stolen from a distinguished Brummagem emigrant, since they both ride on horseback ; Dabble, the little great man, has his origin in a certain aspiring counsellor, who is rising in the world as rapidly as the heaviness of his head will permit; mine uncle John will bear a tolerable com- OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 391 parison, particularly as it respects the sterling qualities 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 the city. Nay, he has taken unpar- denable liberties with my own person !—elevating me on the substantial pedestals of a worthy gentleman from China, and tricking me out with claret coats, tight breeches, and silver-sprigged dickeys, in such sort that I can scarcely recognize my own resemblance—whereas I absolutely declare that I am an exceeding good- looking man, neither too tall nor too short, too old nor too young, with a person 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, os- cillating 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, written my eulogy, and drawn my portrait—I bid my readers an affectionate farewell: exhorting them to live honestly and soberly—paying their taxes, and re- verencing the state, the church, and the corporation— reading diligently the Bible, the almanack, the news- paper, 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, Wirttram Wizarp. THE END. ~ LONDO ia i Ne PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, W Ps a . fax Was ¥ alan AAI Hg iallhes PN TAL 4 Wat 5 | rs Wa AAA NAAR AAAyA.. 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