What its just limits are-how far its poisonous purlieus reach-how much of the world's air is tainted by it, is a question which every thoughtful man will ask himself, with a shudder, and look sadly around, to answer. If the sentimental objectors rally again to the charge, and declare that, if we wish to improve the world, its virtuous ambition must be piqued and stimulated by making the shining heights of "the ideal" niore radiant; we reply, that none shall surpass us in honoring the men whose creations of beauty inspire and instruct mankind. But if they benefit the world, it is no less true that a vivid apprehension of the depths into which we are sunken or may sink, nerves the soul's courage quite as much as the alluring mirage of the happy heights we may attain. 'To hold the mirror up to Nature,' is still the most potent method of shaming sin and strengthening virtue. "If Vanity Fair' is a satire, what novel of society is not? Are 'Vivian Grey,' and 'Pelham,' and the long catalogue of books illustrating English, or the host of Balzacs, Sands, Sues, and Dumas, that paint French, society, any less satires? Nay, if you should catch any dandy in Broadway, or in Pall-Mall, or upon the Boulevards, this very morning, and write a coldly true history of his life and actions, his doings and undoings, would it not be the most scathing and tremendous satire? -if by satire you mean the consuming melancholy of the conviction, that the life of that pendant to a moustache, is an insult to the possible life of a man? in a very wretched manner, came up and bowed to the dowagers, and smirked, and said it was a pleasant party, and a handsome house, and then clutched their hands behind them, and walked miserably away, looking as affable as possible. And the dowagers made a little fun of the elderly gentlemen, among themselves, as they walked away. "Then came the younger non-dancing men, --a class of the community who wear black cravats and waistcoats, and thrust their thumbs and forefingers in their waistcoat pockets, and are called 'talking men.' Some of them are literary, and affect the philosopher; have, perhaps, written a book or two, and are a small species of lion to very young ladies. Some are of the blasé kind; men who affect the extremest elegance, and are reputed 'so aristocratic,' and who care for nothing in particular, but wish they had not been born gentlemen, in which case they might have escaped ennui. These gentlemen stand with hat in hand, and coats and trowsers most unexceptionable. They are the 'so gentlemanly' persons, of whom one hears a great deal, but which seems to mean nothing but cleanliness. Vivian Grey and Pelham are the models of their ambition, and they succeed in being Pendennis. They enjoy the reputation of being very clever,' and 'very talented fellows," smart chaps.' &c., but they refrain from proving what is so generously conceded. They are often men of a certain cultivation. They have travelled, many of them,-spending a year or two in Paris, and a month or two in the rest of Europe. Consequently they endure society at home, with a smile, and a shrug, and a graceful superciliousness, which is very engaging. They are perfectly at home, and they rather despise Young America, which in the next room, is diligently earning its invitation. They prefer to hover about the ladies who did not come out this season, but are a little used to the world, with whom they are upon the most friendly terms, and who criticize together very freely all the great events in the great world of fashion. "We went to the brilliant ball. There was too much of everything. Too much light, and eating, and drinking, and dancing, and flirting, and dressing, and feigning, and smirking, and much too many people. Good taste insists first upon fitness. But why had Mrs. Potiphar given this ball? We inquired industriously, and learned it was because she did not give one last year. Is it then essential to do this thing biennially? inquired we with some trepidation. Certainly,' was the bland reply, 'or society will forget you.' Every body was unhappy at Mrs. Potiphar's, save a few girls "From these groups we passed into the and boys, who danced violently all the even- dancing-room. We have seen dancing in ing. Those who did not dance walked up and other countries, and dressing. We have cerdown the rooms as well as they could, squee-tainly never seen gentlemen dance so easily, zing by non-dancing ladies, causing them to gracefully and well as the American. But the swear in their hearts as the brusque broad-style of dancing, in its whirl, its rush, its fury, cloth carried away the light outwork of gauze is only equalled by that of the masked balls and gossamer. The dowagers, ranged in solid at the French opera, and at the balls at the phalanx, occupied all the chairs and sofas Salle Valentino, the Jardin Mabille, the Chaagainst the wall, and fanned themselves until supper time, looking at each other's diamonds, and criticizing the toilettes of the younger ladies, each narrowly watching her peculiar Polly Jane, that she did not betray too much interest for any man who was not of a certain fortune. It is the cold, vulgar truth, madam, nor are we in the slightest degree exaggerating. Elderly gentlemen, twisting single gloves teau Rouge, and other favorite resorts of Parisian Grisettes and Lorettes. We saw a few young men looking upon the dance very soberly, and, upon inquiry, learned that they were engaged to certain ladies of the corps-deballet. Nor did we wonder that the spectacle of a young woman whirling in a décolleté state, and in the embrace of a warm youth, around a heated room, induced a little sobriety upon. must have taken Mr. Musseldorf to paint them all;" was the reply. By the Farnesian Hercules! no Roman sylph in her city's decline would ever have called the sun-god, Mr. Apollo. We hope that Houri melted entirely away in the window, but we certainly did not stay to see. Here is the covert insinuation alluded to,"But even in this young country," of which with reason we complain. Does the writer, in this description of a ball, (which we could almost fancy was borrowed from Eugene Sue, or a certain preacher some hundred miles west, who, in alluding to the ladies who, two evenings before had graced a somewhat distingué ball, designated them as 66 ragged inebriates,") and his still more disgusting picture of the supper scene, mean to assert by his "even in this young country" that in older countries-Great Britain for instance-wORSB scenes are the every-day life of the "best soci ety," or is it merely a salve to Yankee vanity? her lover's face, if not a sadness in his heart. Amusement, recreation, enjoyment! There are no more beautiful things. But this proceeding falls under another head. We watched the various toilettes of these bounding belles. They were rich and tasteful. But a man at our elbow, of experience and shrewd observation, said, with a sneer, for which we called him to account, I observe that American ladies are so rich in charms that they are not at all chary of them. It is certainly generous to us miserable black coats. But, do you know, it strikes me as a generosity of display that must necessarily leave the donor poorer in maidenly feeling. We thought ourselves cynical, but this was intolerable; and in a very crisp manner we demanded an apology. "Why," responded our friend with more of sadness than of satire in his tone, why are you so exasperated? Look at this scene! Consider that this is, really the life of these girls. This is what they come out' for. This is the end of their ambition. They think of it, dream of it, long for it. Is it amusement? Yes, to a few, possibly. But listen, and gather, if you can, from their remarks (when they make any) that they have any thought beyond this, and going to church very rigidly on Sunday. The vigor of polking and churchgoing are proportioned; as is the one so is the other. My young friends, I am no ascetic, and do not suppose a man is damned because he dances. But Life is not a ball (more's the pity, truly, for these butterflies,) nor is its sole duty and delight, dancing. When I consider a libel on our country folk to pass unrebuked, this spectacle, when I remember what a no- or without assuring the writer that his sketble and beautiful woman is, what a manly ches, although it be possible they are faithful man,—when I reel, dazzled by this glare, drun-representations of New York, Boston, or Philaken with these perfumes, confused by this alluring music, and reflect upon the enormous delphia life-American city life, in fact- will sums wasted in a pompous profusion that de- not pass as genuine with any one acquainted lights no one, when I look around upon all with English, or, we would add, Canadian this rampant valgarity in timsel and Brussels society. We would further assure him that, lace, and think how fortunes go, how men struggle and lose the bloom of their honesty, although he has an undoubted right to show how women hide in a smiling pretence, and up, or libel, as the case may be, his own couneye with caustic glances their neighbor's newer trymen yet, when he attempts to point the house, diamonds, or porcelain, and observe finger of ridicule against those he knows their daughters, such as these,-why, I trem. ble, and this scene to-night, every 'crack ball nothing about, he but earns for himself the this winter will be, not the pleasant society of distinction of appearing as a sort of Reynolds, men and women, BUT EVEN IN THIS YOUNG who after irritating the vanity of the greatest COUNTRY an orgie such as rotting Corinth nation in all creation, is fain to soothe their saw, a frenziel festival of Rome in its deca-irate feelings with assurances that, owing to dence." There was a sober truth in this bitterness, and we turned away to escape the sombre thought of the moment. Addressing one of the panting Houris who stood melting in a window, we spoke (and confess how absurdly) of the Dusseldorf Gallery. It was merely to avoid saying how warm the room was, and how pleasant the party was; facts upon which we had already sufficiently enlarged. Yes, they are pretty pictures: but la! how long it As we said before, we have no intention of splintering a lance in defence of American women;-The author will be, doubtless, arraigned before the Woman's Rights Convention, to answer for his assertions, be they cor rect or otherwise, but we cannot permit so foul republican institutions, the "orgies such as rotting Corinth saw are not as bad as those which mark the decadence of the eastern empires, and would have been worse but for Democracy. Passing out toward the supper-room we encountered two young men. "What, Hal," said one, "you at Mrs. Potiphar's?" It seems that Hal was a sprig of one of the "old fami "OUR BEST SOCIETY." lies." "Well, Joe," said Hal, a little confus- few papas were in the supper-room, sitting A few young noned, "it is a little strange. The fact is I didn't among the debris of game. mean to be here, but I concluded to compro- dancing husbands sat beneath gas supernaturmise by coming, and not being introduced to ally bright, reading whatever chance book was the host." Hal could come, eat Potiphar's sup- at hand, and thinking of the young child at per, drink his wines, spoil his carpets, laugh home waiting for mamma who was dancing the at his fashionable struggles, and assume the "German" below. A few exhausted matrons puppyism of a foreign lord, because he disgraced sat in the robing room, tired, sad, wishing the name of a man who had done some ser- Jane would come up; assailed at intervals by vice somewhere, while Potiphar was only an a vague suspicion that it was not quite worth while; wondering how it was they used to honest man who made a fortune. keep such good times at balls; yawning, and looking at their watches; while the regular beat of the music below, with sardonic sadness, continued. At last Jane came up, had had the most glorious time, and went down with mamma to the carriage, and so drove home. Even the last Jane went-the last noisy youth was expelled, and Mr. and Mrs. Potiphar having duly performed their biennial social duty, dismissed the music, ordered the servants to count the spoons, and an hour or two after daylight went to bed. Enviable Mr. and Mrs. Potiphar! very The supper-room was a pleasant place. The table was covered with a chaos of supper. Every thing sweet and rare, and hot and cold, solid and liquid was there. It was the apotheosis of gilt gingerbread. There was a universal rush and struggle. The charge of the guards at Waterloo was nothing to it. Jellies, custard, oyster-soup, ice-cream, wine and water, gushed in profuse cascades over transparent precipices of tulle, muslin, gauze, silk and satin. Clumsy boys tumbled against costly dresses and smeared them with preserves,-when clean plates failed, the contents of plates already used were quietly "chucked" under the table-heel-taps of champagne were poured into the oyster tureens or overflowed upon plates to clear the glasses-wine of all kinds flowed in torrents, particularly down the throats of very young men, who evinced their manhood by becoming noisy, troublesome and disgusting, and were finally either led, sick, into the hat room, or carried out of the way drunk. The supper over, the young people attended by their matrons descended to the dancing-room for the "German." This is a dance commencing usually at midnight or a little after, and continuing indefinitely toward daybreak. The young people were attended by their matrons, who were there to supervise the morals and manners of their charges. To secure the performances of this duty, the young people took good care to sit where the matrons could not see them, nor did they, by any chance, look toward the quarter in which the matrons sat. In that quarter, through all the varying mazes of the prolonged dance, to two o'clock, to three, to four, sat the bediamonded dowagers, the mothers, the matrons, -against nature, against common sense.They babbled with each other, they drowsed, they dozed. Their fans fell listless into their laps. In the adjoining room, out of the waking sight, even, of the then sleeping mammas, the daughters whirled in the close embrace of partners who had brought down bottles of There is a picture in the Luxembourg galchampagne from the supper-room, and put them by the side of their chairs for occasional lery at Paris, "the Decadence of the Ro refreshment during the dance. The dizzy hours mans," which made the fame and fortune of Couture the painter. It represents an orgie staggered by-" Azalia, you must come now,' had been already said a dozen times, but only in the court of a temple, during the last days as by the scribes. Finally it was declared of Rome. A swarm of revellers occupy the with authority. Azalia went,-Amelia-Ara- middle, wreathed in elaborate intricacy of bella. The rest followed. There was pro- luxurious posture, men and women interminlonged cloaking, and lingering farewells. A gled; their faces, in which the old Roman fire This is the present state of parties. They are wildly extravagant, full of senseless display; they are avoided by the pleasant and intelligent, and swarm with reckless regiments of "Brown's men." The ends of the earth contribute their choicest products to the supper, and there is every thing that wealth can purchase, and all the spacious splendor that thirty feet front can afford. They are hot, and crowded, and glaring. There is a little weak scandal, venomous, not witty, and a stream of weary platitude, mortifying to every sensible person. Will any of our Pendennis friends intermit their indignation for a moment, and consider how many good things they have said or heard during the season? If Mr. Potiphar's eyes should chance to fall here, will he reckon the amount of satisfaction and enjoyment he derived from Mrs. Potiphar's ball, and will that lady candidly confess what she gained from it besides weariness and disgust? What eloquent sermons we remember to have heard in which the sins of Babylon, Jericho and Gomorrah were scathed with holy indignation. The cloth is very hard upon Cain, and completely routs the erring kings of Judah. The Spanish Inquisition, too, gets frightful knocks, and there is much eloquent exhortation to preach the gospel in the interior of Siam. Let it be preached there and God speed the word. But let us ALSO have a text or two in Broadway and the Avenue. scarcely flickers, brutalized with excess of every kind; their heads of dishevelled hair bound with coronals of leaves, while from goblets of an antique shape, they drain the fiery torrent which is destroying them.— Around the bacchanalian feast stand, lofty upon pedestals, the statues of old Rome, looking with marble calmness and the severity of a rebuke beyond words upon the revellers. A youth of boyish grace-a wrenth woven in his tangled hair, and with red and drowsy eyes, sits listless upon one pedestal, while on another stands a boy insane with drunkenness, and proffering a dripping goblet to the marble mouth of the statue. In the corner of the picture, as if just quitting the court-Rome finally departing-is a group of Romans with careworn brows, and hands raised to their faces in melancholy meditation. In the very foreground of the picture, which is painted with all the sumptuous splendor of Venetian art, is a stately vase, around which hangs a festoon of gorgeous flowers, its end dragging upon the pavement. In the background, between the columns, smiles the blue sky of Italy-the only thing Italian not deteriorated by time. The careful student of this picture, if he has been long in Paris, is some day startled by detecting, especially in the faces of the women represented, a surprising likeness to the women of Paris, and perceives with a thrill of dismay, that the models for this picture of decadent human nature, are furnished by the very city in which he lives." We hope that every young American will take this last sad scene to heart, and ask, Is it possible that we, the salt of the earth, where SAINT AUGUSTINE. Along the shore of summer sea Thy sport is all for nought, my child; with the older countries of the east are again SCRAPS FROM MY COMMON-PLACE BOOK. BY CULPEPPER CRABTREE. No. III. KING LEAR AS AN ACTING DRAMA. to be made savory, can furnish material for To see an old man tottering about the stage with a walking-stick, turned out of doors by it but what is painful and disgusting. We his daughters in a rainy night, has nothing in want to take him to shelter and relieve him, that is all the feeling which the acting of Lear ever produced in me. But the Lear of Shake. The contemptible machinery by which they mimic the storm which he goes out in, is not more inadequate to represent the horrors of the real elements, We thank God most heartily that although might more easily propose to personate the than any actor can be to represent Lear: they we Britishers have long been, (and, we trust Satan of Milton upon a stage, or one of Michael will continue so, in the Yankee phrase,) slaves, Angelo's terrible figures. The greatness of none but one of diseased imagination can yet Lear is not in corporeal dimension, but in distinguish in "our best society" the ground-terrible as a volcano; they are storms turning intellectual; the explosions of his passion are work of the melancholy and humiliating pic-up and disclosing to the bottom that sea-bis ture represented by Couture. mind-with all its vast riches. It is his mind ture of decadent human nature." main in the attitude of a priestess at the domestic altar, not of man, because he is a man, but because he is a poet, and to keep the flame pure by no slavish offering, but by the graceful incense of admiration and reverence.-Jean Paul Frederic Richter. EGYPTIAN BONDAGE. Diodorus Siculus says, that among the ancient Egyptians, one of their marriage con tracts was, "The husband should be obedient which is laid bare. This case of flesh and blood seems too insignificant to be thought on; even as he himself neglects it. On the stage we see nothing but corporeal infirmities and weakness, the impotence of rage; while we read it we see not Lear, but we are Lear.We are in his mind, we are sustained by a grandeur which baffles the malice of daughters and storms; in the aberrations of his reason we discern a mighty, irregular power of reasoning, unmethodised from the ordinary purposes of life, but exerting its power, as the wind blows, where it listeth, at will upon the corruptions and abuses of mankind. What have looks or tones to do with that sublimed A Mrs. Ramsay, whom I well knew, was a identification of his age with that of the heavens themselves, when in his reproaches to mannered woman, as my tale will show. She most extraordinary, steady-minded, and goodthem for conniving at the injustice of his children, he reproaches them that "they them- confidential maid-servant to her bed-side, whiswas extremely ill at night; and calling her selves are old." What gesture shall we appro-pered her “Jane, I am dying, but make no priate to this? What has the voice or eye to do with such things?—Charles Lamb. OPS AND HIRON. A worthy Alderman of Bradford, in Yorkshire, is so great a purist that he will never pay a bill that has got a fault of orthography in it. One day he received a bill for a packet of ops (hops); the learned Priscian sent for the witless wight, and giving him a good lecturing, asked him if he was not ashamed to spell hops in that manner. "Why sir," was the response, "if you must know the truth, we have been obliged to do it ever since your brother-in-law took all the 'h's' to spell iron!" TACT. To excel others is a proof of talent; but to know when to conceal that superfority is a greater proof of prudence. The celebrated orator Domitius Afer, when attacked in a set speech by Caligula, made no reply, affecting to be entirely overcome by the resistless eloquence of the tyrant. Had he replied he would certainly have conquered, and as certainly have died; but he wisely preferred a defeat that saved his life, to a victory that would have lost it.-Colton. to the wife!" No wonder "Egyptian bondage" has become a standing proverb! COMPOSURE IN DYING. noise, because if you do you will wake Mr. R., (then sleeping soundly in the next room,) and you know when his slumbers are broken he grows nervous, and cannot fall asleep again; but come you in the morning at the usual time, when I shall be dead, and he will have his full allowance of rest."-And so saying, died accordingly.--Recollections of Mrs. Piozzi. STRONG MINDS AND BODIES. An absurd opinion prevails, among many people, that men of genius and learning are, ex necessitate, weak in body. Let us pick out a few at random, and see how the case stands. The Admirable Crichton stood six feet six, and was one of the strongest fellows in Europe. Robert Burns had the strength of two ordinary men, and would have proved an ugly customer to come to close quarters with. Cunningham and Galt were as big and strong as Anak. Smollett was an athletic, wiry chap, who, we have reason to believe, could use his daddles with as much dexterity as his pen. As for Professor Wilson, nothing but the unfortunate circumstance of his being a man of first-rate genius prevented him from wearing the champion's belt, and rivalling the fame of the Game Chicken. Hogg was a strong, wellbuilt carl, who could be backed for a fall No genius of either sex should marry a against any man of his age and inches in the genius. The result of the poetic nature seems kingdom. The late formidable Andrew Thomto be an intense personality. I do not mean son, the Scottish minister, was a powerful selfishness or even egotism-but the poet lives man, as well as a sturdy pillar of the Kirk; in his own creations; they are his domain, his Sam Johnson was as strong as Hercules; kingdom, and he cannot go out of them, to Bruce of Kinnaird a second Actæus; and Belenter into the heart or interests of an indivi-zoni, the traveller, a revivification of Samson dual, although he understands better than himself. Dr. R. M'Nish. another the great heart of humanity, and lives in the soul of the universe. His wife should be willing to be only a ray, to be absorbed, "Sir," said a hypochondriacal patient, while and have no individual existence, except in describing his symptoms to Abernethy, "I him. How could this be, were both poets, feel a terrible pain in my side, when I put my both demanding supremacy, and the acknow- hand up to my head." "Then, Sir," exclaimledgement of individual superiority? Far hap-ed the mild physician, "Why the deuce do pier, far more graceful is it for woman to re- you put your hand to your head?" FITTING WIFE FOR A MAN OF GENIUS. MORE PLAIN THAN PLEASANT. |