Sir," says Eustace. See the finale, Eustace is enlisted for life in the Grub-Street Corps, where he learns by sad experience how dan gerous it is to say "No" to the avarice of an usurer, the vanity of a rhymer, or the party-spirit of a politician. How unlucky that he cannot say "Yes." Godfrey is a lover, and he has every qualification for the office except one. He cannot say "Yes." Nobody, without this talent, should presume to be in love. "Mr. Godfrey," says Chloe, "don't you think this feather pretty?" "Absurd!” " says God frey. "Mr. Godfrey!" says the lady, "don't you think this necklace becoming?" "Never saw any thing less so!" says Godfrey. "Mr. Godfrey," says the coquette, "don't you think I'm divine tonight?" "You never looked worse, by Jove!" says the gentleman. Godfrey is a man of fashion, a man of fortune, and a man of talent, but he will die a bachelor. What a pity! We can never look on such a man without a smile for his caprice, and a tear for its consequences. How unlucky that he cannot say "Yes." In the position we are next going to advance we know every body will agree with us; and this consideration very much strength ens our opinion. Nothing is so becoming to a female mouth as a civil and flattering "Yes." It is impossible, indeed, but that our fellow-citizens should here agree with us, when they reflect that they never can be husbands until their inamorata shall have learnt the art of saying "Yes." For the most part, indeed, civility and good-nature are the characteristics of our British fair; and this natural inclina to eat tripe with his tyrannical bookseller he has disappointed his patroness he has offended his patron-he has cut the Club!— How unlucky that he cannot say "No." Ned Shuttle was a a dashing young fellow, who, to use his own expression, was "above denying a thing ;"-in plainer terms, he could not say “No.” “Sir!" says an enraged Tory, "you are the author of this pamphlet!" Jack never saw the work, but he was "above denying a thing," and was horsewhipped for a libeller. " Sir!" says an unfortunate pigeon, " you hid the king in your sleeve last night!" Jack never saw the pigeon before, but he was "above denying a thing," and was cut for a blackleg. "Sir!" says a hot Hibernian, you insulted my sister in the Park!" Jack never saw the lady or her champion before, but he was "above denying a thing," and was shot through the head the next morning. Poor fellow! How unlucky that he could not say "No." 66 In the position we are next going to advance we know every body will differ from us; but this only strengthens our opinion. Nothing is so becoming to a female mouth as the power,-ay, and the inclination, to say No!" So firmly indeed are we attached to this doctrine, that we never will marry a woman who cannot say "No." For the most part, indeed, the sex are pretty tolerably actuated by what the world calls a spirit of contradiction, but what we should rather designate as a spirit of independence. This na tion to the affirmative renders it unnecessary for us to point out to our fair countrywomen the beauties and advantages of a word which they love as dearly as they do flattery. While we are on the subject of flattery, let us obiter advise all Etonians to say nothing but "Yes" to a lady. But as a thoughtless coquette or a haughty prude does occasionally forget the neces sity and the beauty of the word we are discussing, we cannot but recommend to our fair readers to consider attentively the evils which this forgetfulness infallibly entails. Laurelia would never have been cut by her twenty-first adorer; Charlotte, with 4,000l. a-year at fifteen, would never have been an old maid at fifty; Lucy, with a good face and not a farthing, would never have refused a carriage, white liveries, and a peerage, if these unfortunate victims had studied in early youth the art of saying "Yes." tural inclination to negatives renders it unnecessary for us to point out to our fair countrywomen the beauties and advantages of a word which they use as constantly as their looking-glass. Nevertheless they do occasionally forget the love of opposition, which is the distinguishing ornament of their sex; and alas! they too frequently render themselves miserable by neglecting our conclusive Monosyllable. We most earnestly entreat those belles who honour with their notice the humble efforts of "The Etonian," to derive a timely warning from the examples of those ladies who have lived to regret a hasty and unthinking assent. Anna would never have been the mistress of a colonel; Martha would never have been the wife of a cornet; Lydia would never have been tied to age, ugliness, and gout, if these unfortunate victims had studied in early youth the art of saying "No." Short-strong--sharp---quaint Monosyllable! Forcible, convincing, argumentative, indisputable No! How we delight in thy expressive sound! We love to hear the Miss of fifteen plaguing her uncle for her Christmas ball, till Squaretoes, finding vain the sexcuses of affection, finishes the negociation with the "No" of authority. We love to hear the enamoured swain pouring forth his raptures at the feet of an inexorable Mistress, till the lady changes her key from the quiet hint of indifference to the decided Sweet-light-gay-quaint Monosyllable! Tender, obliging, inoffensive, affectionate Yes! How we delight in thy delicate sound! We love to hear the enamoured swain petitioning for his mistress's picture, till the lady, or overcome by affection, or wearied by importunity, changes the "No" of coy reluctance for the "Yes" of final approbation. We love to hear the belle of Holborn-hill supplicating for Greenwich and the one-horse chay, till her surly parent alters the shake of unconvinced obduracy for the nod of unwilling consent. We love to see the hen-"No" of aversion. We love to pecked husband humbly kneeling hear the schoolboy supplicating a for his Sunday coat and "the Star remission of his sentence, until his and Garter," till Madam, con- sable judge alters the "I can't” scious that the Captain is secreted of sorrowful necessity, to the "No" in the closet, transmutes the "No" of inflexible indignation. We love of authoritative detention into the -but it is time for us to bring our - "TWAS silence all-the glorious Sun The Moon her silver lamp had spread And, o'er each hut and lordly tower, II. No steeds in gorgeous trappings prance, No hatchet glittering in the way, III. The flames rise high-the trembling sod Scarce bears the host's unnumber'd tread, And hearts invoke the Guardian God To watch above each suppliant's head: But still each breast, with chiefest zeal, Burns anxious for its country's weal, And calls the Arbiter of Fate To spread his wings o'er Lapland's State; Can mark his son, his father, die; And glory that he priz❜d the day Of life below his Country's good. Such Lapland's sons. Each bosom pray'd To Odin's ever-watchful shade Odin-who, living, ever saw Whole armies quail beneath his nod; ́Dying, became a nation's awe, His Country's friend-his Country's God. ODE TO DESPAIR. HENCE! Fiend of Hell, who lov'st to brood And blooms in gentle youth, and blushes while 'tis May. Hence for not here the guilty soul, The conscience-stricken breast thou'lt find, Whom Virtue's laws could ne'er control, Whom Honour's pledge could never bind. With such as these thou lov'st to dwell, While all around fell woes appear, Sharp Pain, and moody Hate, and self-avoiding Fear. To thee is sweet the lonely heart That owns no tie of love on earth, Of all that once was precious here, Of all that beauty gave, or happiness made dear. To thee is sweet the madden'd breast That Fury's boiling, passions tear, That knows no interval of rest From bitterest pangs the frame can bear; To thee is sweet the cold glaz'd eye That glares in hideous vacancy; To thee is sweet the gasping breath, The blood-bespatter'd hand, and agony of Death. |