Why round our coaches crowd the white-glov'd

beaux ?

Why bows the sidebox from it's inmost rows?
How vain are all these glories, all our pains,
Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains:
That men may say, when we the front box grace,
Behold the first in virtue as in face!

Oh! if to dance all night and dress all day,
Charm'd the smallpox, or chas'd old age away,
Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce,
Or who would learn one earthly thing of use?
To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint;
Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
But since, alas! frail beauty must decay;
Curl'd or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to gray;
Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade,
And she who scorns a man must die a maid;
What then remains but well our pow'r to use,
And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose?
And trust me, dear! good humour can prevail,
When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail:
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll;
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul."

POPE,

VIRTUOUS LOVE.

DELIGHTFUL task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The gen'rous purpose in the glowing breast. O speak the joy! ye, whom the sudden tear Surprises often, while you look around And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss,

All various nature pressing on the heart :
An elegant sufficiency, content,

Retirement, rural quiet, freindship, books,
Ease and alternate labour, useful life,
Progressive virtue, and approving Heav'n.
These are the matchless joys of virtuous love;
And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus,
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and consenting Spring
Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads:
Till ev'ning comes at last, serene and mild;
When, after the long vernal day of life,
Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells
With many a proof of recollected love,
Together down they sink in social sleep;
Together freed, their gentle spirits fly

To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign.

THOMSON.

BEAUTY DEPENDENT ON SENTIMENT.

THOUGH the danger of disappointment is always in proportion to the height of expectation, yet I this day claim the attention of the ladies, and profess to teach an art, by which all may obtain what has hitherto been deemed the prerogative of a few; an art, by which their predominant passion may be gratified, and their conquests not only extended but secured;" the art of being pretty.”

But though my subject may interest the ladies, it may, perhaps, offend those profound moralists, who have long since determined, that beauty ought rather to be despised than desired; that, like strength, it is a mere natural excellence, the effect of causes wholly out of our power, and not intended either as the pledge of happiness, or the distinction of merit.

To these gentlemen I shall remark, that beauty is among those qualities, which no effort of human wit could ever bring into contempt: it is therefore to be wished, at least, that beauty was in some degree dependent upon sentiment and manners, that so high a privilege might not be possessed by the unworthy, and that human reason might no longer suffer the mortification of those, who are compelled to adore an idol, which differs from a stone or a log only by the skill of the artificer: and, if they cannot themselves behold beauty with indifference, they must surely approve an attempt to show that it merits their regard.

I shall, however, principally consider that species of beauty, which is expressed in the countenance; for this alone is peculiar to human beings, and is not less complicated than their nature. In the countenance, there are but two requisites to perfect beauty, which are wholly produced by external causes, colour and proportion and it appear, that, even in common estimation, these are not the chief; but that, though there may be beauty without them, yet there cannot be beauty without something

will

more.

The finest features, ranged in the most exact symmetry, and heightened by the most blooming complexion, must be animated before they can strike; and, when they are animated, will generally excite the same passions which they express. If they are fixed in the dead calm of insensibility, they will be examined without emotion; and, if they do not express kindness, they will be beheld without love. Looks of contempt, disdain, or malevolence, will be reflected, as from a mirror, by every countenance, on which they are turned; and, if a wanton aspect excites desire, it is but like that of a savage for his prey, which cannot be gratified without the destruction of it's object. Among particular graces, the dimple has always been allowed the preeminence, and the reason is evident;

dimples are produced by a smile, and a smile is an expression of complacency: so the contraction of the brows into a frown, as it is an indication of a contrary temper, has always been deemed a capital defect.

The lover is generally at a loss to define the beauty, by which his passion was suddenly and irresistibly determined to a particular object; but this could never happen, if it depended upon any known rule of proportion, upon the shape or disposition of the features, or the colour of the skin: he tells you, that it is something which he cannot fully express, something not fixed in any part, but diffused over the whole; he calls it a sweetness, a softness, a placid sensibility, or gives it some other appellation, which connects beauty with sentiment, and expresses a charm which is not peculiar to any set of features, but is perhaps possible to all.

This beauty, however, does not always consist in smiles, but varies, as expressions of meekness and kindness vary with their objects; it is extremely forcible in the silent complaint of patient sufferance, the tender solicitude of friendship, and the glow of filial obedience; and in tears, whether of joy, of pity, or of grief, it is almost irresistible.

This is the charm, which captivates without the aid of nature, and without which her utmost bounty is ineffectual. But it cannot be assumed as a mask to conceal insensibility or malevolence; it must be the genuine effect of corre sponding sentiments, or it will impress upon the countenance a new and more disgusting deformity, affectation; it will produce the grin, the simper, the stare, the languish, the pout, and innumerable other grimaces, that render » folly ridiculous, and change pity to contempt. By some, indeed, this species of hypocrisy has been practised with such skill, as to deceive superficial observers, though it cannot deceive even these but for a moment. Looks, which do not correspond with the heart, cannot be assumed

without labour, nor continued without pain; the motiva to relinquish them must, therefore, soon preponderate, and the aspect and apparel of the visit will be laid by toge ther; the smiles and the languishments of art will vanish, and the fierceness of rage, or the gloom of discontent, will either obscure or destroy all the elegance of symmetry and complexion,

The artificial aspect is, indeed, as wretched a substitute for the expression of sentiment, as the smear of paint for the blushes of health; it is not only equally transient, and equally liable to detection; but, as paint leaves the countenance yet more withered and ghastly, the passions burst out with more violence after restraint, the features become more distorted, and excite more determined aversion.

Beauty, therefore, depends principally upon the mind, and consequently may be influenced by education. It has been remarked, that the predominant passion may generally be discovered in the countenance; because the muscles, by which it is expressed, being almost perpetually contracted, lose their tone, and never totally relax; so that the expression. remains, when the passion is suspended : thus an angry, a disdainful, a subtle, and a suspicious tem. per, is displayed in characters that are almost universally understood. It is equally true of the pleasing and the softer paissons, that they leave their signatures upon the countenance when they cease to act: the prevalence of these passions, therefore, produces a mechanical effect upon the aspect, and gives a turn and cast to the features, which make a more favourable and forcible impression upon the minds of others, than any charm produced by mere external causes.

Neither does the beauty which depends upon temper and sentiment equally endanger the possessor; "it is," to use an eastern metaphor, "like the towers of a city, not only an ornament but a defence:" if it excites desire, it