No. 27.'

On the Fancy of Woman.

"There is so large a portion of natural agreeableness among the fair sex of our island, that they seem betrayed into these romantic habits without having the same occasion for them with their inventors: all that needs to be desired of them is, that they would be themselves, that is what nature designed them."-THE SPECTATOR.

"And yet believe me, good as well as ill,

Woman's at best, a contradiction still."-POPE.

The mind of woman (the furniture of which has been so well described by Swift) being so often unoccupied (except during flirtation) with important subjects, naturally grasps at frivolous pursuits. Fashionable dresses, scented note paper, embroidered envelopes, sealing wax all the colours of the rainbow, and fancy wafers, often take a prominent position. What a strange thing is fashion! What a charm there is in Novelty! At one time a romantic lady, struck with the beauty of her fair sisters in the reign of Louis Quatorze, must have "Coiffures Madonna á la Louis Quatorze," or her husband has no peace for a month. At another, she wishes a broach with a Cameo head of Marie Antoinette, or she sighs to wear a Turkish Dress like Lady Montagu. The roman

tic character of Lucy Ashton is frequently chosen by young ladies, to display their beauty at Fancy Balls, and if she wins the heart of the Lord Ravenswood in this character, she will likely have a romantic turn for the rest of her days, to the no small injury of her own reputation, and the ever so fertile pocket of her husband. Light reading must in a great measure, excite in woman the desire of novelty; how many elopements, how many divorces are perhaps to be attributed to the writings of Fielding and Smollet, Sterne and Cervantes, not forgetting Little's Poems, and Don Juan; the mind of woman is generally of a quite nature, and only such stirring genius as the above can excite it to Romantic pursuit; I can imagine at this some fair reader exclaiming "what a strange, pedantic fellow it is! and still, there's a deal of truth in what he says." If I have offended at all, I shall now regain my good character, by writing a little story to please the ladies. Swift has meditated on a BROOMSTICK, Lord Rochester has written poetry on NOTHING, Phillips, a long poem on a SPLENDID SHILLING, Why should some intellectual spark not write about a fancy wafer, it might be done in the following style

THE HISTORY OF A FANCY WAFER.

Ladies when deeply in love, not possessing that delightful virtue Patience, was the cause of my introduction into the world; the billet doux before, when unsealed, merely boasted the impression of a common wafer stamp; this was not sufficient to delight the scrutinizing eye of woman; as she often judges a man by his outward appearance, so she often judges the contents of a letter, by the quality of the exterior ; not possessing patience enough to wait until she reads the contents of the letter, she must read the mind of her lover on the outside, in the shape of a fancy wafer; such impatience then was the origin of my introduction; when I was dealt out wholesale from the warehouse in Paris, with many thousands of my brethren, we all flattered ourselves on the quantity of erudition we carried on our backs. On mine I bore a heart between two hands, which silent emblem contained much meaning; I had not lain long in the wholesale warehouse, before I was retailed with about fortynine more of my brethren into a very pretty little box, bright blue, with gold paper round the edges, I was now ready for representation in one of the principal stationery shops in Paris whither I was sent. I lay about three weeks in a glass

case, unheeded, uncared for, till one day a beautiful young lady and a handsome young gentleman entered the shop, and to my great joy (I was of a rambling propensity) she asked the stationer for a box of fancy wafers, a dozen boxes were in the same case with mine, but it was destined to be the victim of retail, so I was handed over by the stationer to the young lady, who opened the box, caught me between her pretty white fingers, said it was the very thing she wanted (an uncommon saying in the world). paid two francs for it, and then left the shop with a sigh, supported by the arm of the young gentleman. They walked along, and talked earnestly as they went; I could only distinguish a few words of their conversation. I was too deeply buried in the lady's reticule to hear all; jolie fille, mon ame, chere Marie! oh! non! oui ! ma femme! was all I could understand, but which plainly told me they were settling how happily they should live together. At length they reached the house, which belonged to the young lady's father, on seeing her safely into the mansion the young man shook hands, sighed, and left her.

She gave her reticule to her servant, Fleur, who walked me upstairs, when I was silently de

posited on the young lady's dressing table: I lay quiet until the following morning, when my mistress sat down evidently to write a note to some one (of course all this time I am supposed to possess the sense of Murphy, with the eyes of Argus,) and by her agitation while writing I imagined, she was refusing the proposal of marriage made to her, yesterday; I was right—she hastened to her reticule, drew forth the pretty box of wafers, placed "the heart between two hands" on such a sweet note, first wetting me between her rosy lips, and then sent me off to the house of le Marquis sipping coffee and smoking a ottoman; he seized the note, paroxysm of terror, muttered a then threw the note into the

her lover, who was cigar on a splendid gazed on it with a

deep oath, and fire, where my

body was consumed; my spirit only remained

to tell the tale.

Tuesday, March 5, 1844.

POLYPHILUS.