beloved enormity in a pleasant strain of mingled indignation, humour, and weak versification. There is one capital line, however, about the Quakers :

"The hoop, the darling justly of the fair,
Of every generous swain deserves the care.
It is unmanly to desert the weak;
'Twould urge a stone, if possible, to speak,
To hear staunch hypocrites bawl out, and cry
This hoop's a (wanton) garb; fie, ladies, fie ?'
O cruel and audacious man, to blast

The fame of ladies more than vestals chaste!
Should you go search the globe throughout,*
None will you find so pious and devout,
So modest, chaste, so handsome, and so fair,
As our dear Caledonian ladies are.

When awful beauty puts on all her charms,
Nought gives our sex such terrible alarms,
As when the hoop and tartan both combine
To make a virgin like a goddess shine.

* A foot has been droped out of this verse.

Let quakers cut their clothes unto the quick,

And with severities themselves afflict,

But may the hoop adorn Edina's Street,

Till the South Pole shall with the Northern meet."

Thomson's countryman, Allan Ramsay, was equally zealous in behalf of hoops and tartans. He has even a good word to say for patches:

"In your opinion, nothing matches,
O horrid sin! the crime of patches!
"Tis false, ye clowns. I'll make 't appear,
The glorious sun does patches wear;

Yea, run through every frame of nature,

You'll find a patch for every creature;

E'en you yourselves, ye blackened wretches,
To Heliconians are the patches."

Milton likens Dalila full dressed, to a ship

in full sail:

:

"With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,

Sails fill'd, and streamers waving."

But Dalila must have been dressed after Eastern fashion, which was rather draped than swelling; more turbaned or hooded, than topped with ribbons. What would he have said, had he seen his image of the ship enlarged and made out after true naval fashion, by the swelling hoop, the air-catching fan, the solid, mast-like stomacher, reascending in the pillar of the throat, and the "streamers waving in the wind," of ribbons à la Fontange?

Imagine a squadron of them,-a dozen sail of the line (of beauty),—headed by Admiral the Lady Mary, or my Lady Hervey, supported by Captains Mrs. Hewet and Mrs. Murray, or Commanders the Demoiselles

Bellenden and Lepell. They are all coming up the great high roadstead of Kensington Gardens, between Bayswater and the town; the gentlemen-beholders dying by hundreds in their swords and perriwigs, with their hats under their arms; and the ladies who have not been to court that day, feeling envious of the slaughter. Their sails are not mere white or brown: they are of all the colours of the rainbow, varied with gold and silver; and Pope, who is looking from one of the Palace windows with Dr. Mead, sees the spirits of his "Rape of the Lock" fillipping the jewels in their ears, to make them tremble in

the sun.

THE FAMILY CIRCLE-HIS SON FREDERICK, PRINCE OF

WALES.

MEANTIME, alas! matters may not be going on so pleasantly in the interior of the palace. We take them, in ordinary, to have been like the matters in most houses; a

mixture of sweet and sour, of insipidity and

VOL. II.

I