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fee those feelings which were given by Providence to be an ornament to their sex, and a pleasure and happiness to ours, lavished in such unfeemly fondness upon a distempered brute, while offices are called for, from those whose fituations in life compel them to submit to them, which a female of true delicacy would scruple to ask for herself.

Oh! that I had the powers of Addison, to paint this unnatural deviation from all that is fair and lovely, in its true colours ! but, for the prefent, I will conclude, left I should trespass ioo much upon your indulgence, Bath.

ANTI-CANIS.

ANGELS AND DEVILS.

[From the Morning Chronicle.) MR. EDITOR, WE are informed by a paragraph in your paper of

Saturday, that an artist, very celebrated for angelic paintings, had refused to paint an angel in the fashion, because he would not put a wig upon an angel. All this may be very true, and is certainly very right; but give me leave to say, Sir, that artists in general, when attempting to reprefent beings of another world, have not always been so neglc&tful of the costume of the present. For the truth of this I appeal to paintings of the other world in general, without specifying any one in particular, because it might appear invidious. I never look at a modern painting of an angel, without wondering at the perfection to which the mufin manyfactory appears to be carried in heaven; and I defy you to produce me a devil that does not prove how much fuperior the black fatin and crape of the hellith fabrique are to any thing we can produce.

I remember the time, Sir, when angels were always painted with wings and long blue filk robes, not very unlike our modern pelises; but since the Spitalfields

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THE ART OP STORY-TELLING. tradc decreafed it became impious to dress an angel in -any thing but fine mullin; and of late they have appeared in the height of the fashion, by a display of borom and limbs through the transparent coverings; fo that, instead of a message from the gods, one would suppose they brought us news from Bond Street.

Your painter, therefore, is very nice indeed if he hefitates about a wig. Does he imagine our women would wear wigs if they thought it lessened the proportion of angel in their coinpolition? The opinion of his brethren is less fcrupulous; and it appears that angel is not an abstract idea, but a something that conforms itself to every revolving change of fashion. As we know but very little of the other world, we cannot direct people's attention to it, otherwise than by making it as like the present as poflible. It would therefore be preposterous in the present day to exhibit to our imaginations the supreme felicity of enjoying the company of angels drest in quilted petticoats, bell hoops, and close caps and handkerchiefs. Obferve the respectful attention of some of our painters to the devil. They have discarded his cloven feet, and cut off his

tail. Thus cropped, he looks like a respectable elderly gentleman, fomewhat inclined to mischief, but with the gravity of a privy-counsellor. This is a becoming deference to the prejadices of the tinies : no man can expect success if he studies his angels in books; and far t; more is he to blame, if, in the present state of public N affairs, he should draw the devil without some foundation.

Yours, &c.

BRUSH,

THE ART OF STORY TELLING.

{From a Calcuit. Chronicle.) THE knack of telling a story with that facetiousness

which sets the table in a roar, falls to the lot of very few ;- but fcandal is in the power of every perfon,

who

who can even gravely relate a circumstance to the prejudice of another. However, there requires a presence of mind, which if the story-teller does not pofiess, the ball fometinies recoils with double force.

In a circle, I will not say of whom, or where, after pulling all our friends and enemies to pieces, Flirtilla, uneasy that it had not yet come to her turn, filenced us by proposing to tell us an 'anecdote which the affirnied to be true; and having sworn us all to f'ecrecy, thus began :

" There is,” says she, “ a married lady of my acquaintance, who shall be nameless, who lives on the best terms with her husband, notwithltanding the difference of their ages ;-he is old, and the is in her prime. A gentleman of her acquaintance fell desperately in love with her, and, from the disparity of her age to that'of her husband, hoped for success. A long time passed in his pursuit, but he could obtain nothing from her that a toman of virtue might not'gránt. As her lover could never find an opportunity of 'feeing her alone, he thought if he could once bccomplilh that event, he should not find her quite so cruel. All the danger, and almost impossibility of effecting his purpose, yielded to the violence of his paskon, and he resolved upon the attempt.

“ He took his measures so well, that, hearing the lady's husband was going to one of his country-feats, and would fet out very early to avoid the heat, he found means to get into the lady's chamber, who was alleep in bed; on' which he laid himself down, booted and {purred, but in his hurry forgot to shut the door. The tady waked, and was altonished at the light of her visitor, whom in vain the ordered to depart; but the lover threatened, if she ftirred, to inform every person that he came by her appointment; which terrified her so much, that she had not the power to cry out.

“ Presently one of the chambermaids came into the

room;

DREAMS.

.80 room; upon which the gentleman started from the bed, and would have got clear away, if in his hurry one of his fpurs had not pul'ed off the bed-clothes, and left the lady without covering.”-Here Flirtilla, forgetting that she was telling the story in another person's name, suddenly turned to her next neighbour : "Good God!" says she, “ I was never so much surprised in my life to find myself in fuch a situation."

Here a horse-laugh burst out, to the no small akonishment of Flirtilla ; who upon being asked to finish the story, and told that we did not doubt but the anecdote was true, immediately quitted the company in great confufion.

as

A MISTAKE. A BUTCHER, of fome eminence, was , lately in

company with several ladies at a game of whift, where, having lost two or three rubbers, one of the ladies addressing him, asked, “ Pray, Sir, what are stakes now?" To which, ever mindful of his occupation, he immediately replied, “ Madam, the best rump I cannot Jell lower than ten-pence halfpenny a pound.

DREAMS.

[From a Paris Paper ] A POET of the day dreamed that he had written

an excellent coniedy, and that sylphs had administered incense to him in salvers of gold. He said to himself, “ I have driven Moliere from the stage." He awoke amidst the hifles of the pit.

A Parisian husband fell asleep on the pillow of Hymen.

He dreamed that bis wife was faithful and conliant. He was awaked by an oflicer, who informed him that his chatic Penelope had divorced him, and that The was about to marri his vale!. A coachman fellaticep upon the coach-box, and awakened upon a chair of state. Every body congra

awakened

tulated him on having risen to fo much good fortune ; ; and the coachman would not believe that he had been · asleep.

A washerwoman, in the Rue St. Honoré, while asleep, fell from the fourth story of a house into an Englith curricle, and received no injury.

A lacquey fell asleep behind a carriage, and when he awoke he was in the inside of it! Numbers lately have fallen alleep in a garret and awakened in a drawing-room!

A young warrior dreamed upon the banks of the Nile, that, guided by his fortune, he should traverse the ocean, covered with hoftile fleets that he should rescue a whole people from the yoke of folly and frenzy, and that with his own hand he should plant the olive of peace, which in two years should spread its shade over all Europe:

He awoke, amidst the acclamations of the universe, attonithed that this was not a dream!

MEGALANTHROPOGENESIE. THE Parisians have lately been more interested by a

book with the above title, which contains inftrucs tions for the forming of great men, than they would have been with thic project of a new constitution. We find the following jeu d'efprit irr ridicule of this folly in a Paris Journal. Copy of a Letter from a Husband to his Wife, on the

System of Megalanthropogenesie. Allow me, my dear friend, to confefs an offence which, though momentary, miglit have rendered my whole life criminal. You know that the fatal star under which I was born has made me what Mercier calls a Poetiser; for I am fatisfied that posterity alone can bonour me with the sublime appellation of Poet, man

divine.

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