CHAPTER XLIV.

Whoe'er he be, that to a TASTE aspires,

Let him read this, and be what he desires!

BRAMSTON's Man of Taste.

PROGRESS OF THE LOVE OF TWO AMATEURS !-MY AUNT IS CHARMED BY EXQUISITE HARMONY -HER EAR COMPARED TO ANOTHER EAR SYMPTOMS OF JEALOUSY RESPECTING EYES, WIGS, AND SHOES MY UNCLE'S DISTRESSED SITUATION, BEING GORED BY THE HORNS OF BACCHUS.

SOMETIMES Would our modern Raphael, nestling close to my Aunt, (to use his language,) sigh for that deliquium of pleasure which is best expressed by tones and inflexions, so gentle that they are almost imperceptible to hearing!

I have heard her say to CONTOUR, Indulge me, dear Nightingale! (so she used to nickname him,) by whispering so softly that I can't hear you!—He invited my Aunt to hear the sweet soft tones of the Æolian harp, which so admirably agree with the still softness of moon-light. And actually one

morning my Aunt left my Uncle in bed, to join Contour at the earliest break of morn, to listen to the song of the lark, so suitably cheerful to the rising of the sun!

Will the reader credit me, that my Aunt had no better an EAR for music, than a pitcher has?

Contour, with all these picturesque attitudes, expressive gesticulations, and fervid ejaculations, peculiar to the enthusiasm of art, would put himself in the most indecent

postures before my Aunt; squeeze her white hands, for they were white when they were not inky; measure her neck, which he said had the exact dimensions of the Venus de Medicis, and pinch her ear, which he swore was as fine an ear, particularly at the tip, as his Minerva's on his chimney-piece. He had really more the manners of a young satyr than a young gentleman. My Uncle, with a wry face, wondered how my Aunt could suffer so much fumbling. She replied, that CONTOUR was a man of great feeling!

Sometimes would CONTOUR, running volubly on, make a hundred over-refined strictures on the HAIR of women. He had all

the ideas of an artist in hair I mean a

painter! He declared how "by its comparative roughness and partial concealments,

it relieves the clearness and smoothness of a beautiful face." He preferred crisped hair, notwithstanding the Greeks were enamoured of the floating tresses, silky soft, or when "the hyacinthian locks hung clustering like the growth of grapes," as in gems and statues.

At such a moment would my Aunt, observing my Uncle twitching himself at the edge of his chair, ask CONTOUR, with a malicious grin, what kind of hair he thought she had? To which he would reply by laughing and playing with her locks, and - twirling her tresses, and fancifully arranging them into pendulous folds, like the headdress of Aspasia, or frizzing them into a pyramid of curls, like Plotina's-or, taking off her riband, he would bind it round her forehead, to imitate the ancient fillet worn by