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THE DAY,

PENNY

A MORNING JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, POLITICS, ARTS AND FASHION,

VELUTI IN SPECULO.

GLASGOW, TUESDAY, JANUARY 3, 1832.

"SUPREMACY OF INTELLECT," THE NEW POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY.

Or the many changes in speaking, and in writing, which the new order of things has introduced, none is more startling than the doctrine of the supremacy of intellect, at present a favourite subject of discussion among a certain class of political theorists.

Our readers may not be aware that there is a remnant of Mr. Owen's people here, who delight in the appellation of the Co-operatives, and that to the mighty and invincible spirits of these scattered members of the poor philanthropist's now forgotten communion, nothing is more offensive than the ordinary institutions of society, and nothing so intolerably galling as certain forms of expression to which the artificial distinctions of life have necessarily given rise. The relative terms high and low, as applied to the different orders of which the general community is formed, have been long expunged from the vocabulary of these philosophical weavers, and are never employed, now-a-days, except to be reprobated as indecorous and insolent. It is criminal, it seems, to say of a man who breaks stones on the roadside that he belongs to the lower orders: and, as to the word workman, or the expression working classes, though it be notorious as the sun at noonday that such persons do exist, and that they constitute by far the largest portion of our population, it has been agreed to abolish their use too, and to substitute the term operative, which, by the way, means the same thing, for the discarded epithets above, which the dignity of modern manners, and the liberality of modern sentiment, could no longer tolerate. It can scarcely be wondered at, therefore, that the same spirit of vulgar foppery which has dictated these changes, should extend its laughable pretensions still farther, and should now broadly contend for the general recognition of a new, but fundamental tenet of this vulgar school of utilitarians. The tenet in question is what is called the supremacy of intellect-it being insinuated, we presume, by this expression, that the said supremacy is to be found only among a certain class-that it has not hitherto been duly recognised by that class itself, nor by the other, and less influential portions of societyand that upon its recognition depends the well-being of the state, and the elevation of the humbler orders to a station much more dignified than that which they have hitherto occupied. This dangerous delusion, with its correlative errors, it is high time to expose, otherwise the corner stones of society will be removed, and an entry made for a flood of vague and unsound reasoning on the relative positions of the different orders of the state to each other, and of the mechanism by which the whole framework of civilized life is regulated.

One of the advantages of pecuniary competency is that it places the means of education, and the leisure necessary for intellectual culture, within the reach of all who are fortunate enough to possess it; hence it has happened that in this, and in every other country, ancient and modern, the general presumption has always been in favour of the superior intelligence of those who occupy an independent station in society, and to them, especially, the government of states has been confided. For the most part, experience has

shewn this ground of selection to be as just as any other general rule which time and expediency have established for the controul of human affairs. It would appear, however, that the class of persons to whom we have referred, not content with assuming all the power of the state on the ground of numerical strength, have resolved to institute a new, and, it must be owned, a very modest claim, on the ground of intellectual superiority! The boldness of this assumption, however is much more remarkable than its novelty. The claim is the natural offspring of ignorance, both of men and books, betraying, on the front of it, the secluded and monastic habits of the parties who urge it. It could have been engendered no where but in the brains of men whose habitual modes of thinking were as thickly encumbered with the dust of political fanaticism, as the walls of an old house with cobwebs, whose only tenants are flies and spiders; for who but the framers of this bright hypothesis does not see that the liberalising influence of good society, where something more than mere dogmatism is required as a passport to toleration, would wipe away all the rusty notions on amelioration, and optimism, which these conceited regenerators are putting forth as profound and novel deductions in the philosophy of human government? Every clever and partially educated schoolboy entertains precisely the same opinion of himself, as compared with his teachers, which the utilitarian mechanic fancies he has discovered in reference to his employer, or to the constituted guardians of the state. He feels certain irrepressible murmurings of ambition, and certain impetuous aspirations after imaginary perfection, which he mistakes for indications of intellectual strength, and, long before he is competent to the government of his own affairs, he expresses his loud dissatisfaction with the barbarous usages of the world, which prevent him from getting the charge of the affairs of others. So is it with the present race of philosophising and co-operative workmen, who have discovered, somehow or other, that they are the lights of the earth, and that all that is necessary to prove this, is, to abuse their betters, and to propound political novelties, or what they esteem such, and which they find to be, unfortunately, an easy and an expeditious mode of making bread. Hence the sickening and reiterated cry about intellectual supremacy, which is to be found, of course, only among the adepts of their own body; and which, we imagine, is in the reverse ratio of clean hands and whole clothing, so that, if the phrensy lasts much longer, we shall have an order of breechless philanthropists, who, like the sans culottes of the French revolution, will impersonate all the wisdom of all the ages, past, present and to come!

Had these men ever been so oppressed as to prevent the free exercise of their understandings-had they ever been prevented, by any tyrannical statute, from acquiring all the knowledge which circumstances placed within their reach-had it ever been proclaimed, in the form of a conventional enactment, that they were disqualified, by birth, or station, from rising above their original condition-had they been branded as a peculiar and an inferior caste-had the possession of talent been refused to them, and had it been exclusively claimed by their superiors in rank-then, indeed, there might

have been some apology for their present folly, and for all this idle hectoring about intellect; but every body knows that such are not the facts of the case.

In no country in the world are the bonds which unite the different orders of society together so delicately adjusted as in the British Empire-in no other country are the life and property of the poor man so effectually protected, or his virtuous exertions so extensively sympathised with-in no other country, where the feudal distinctions of ranks are still observed, are instances of petty tyranny so uncommon-and in no other country are the avenues of advancement so perfectly free to the indigent man of merit. Watt began the world as a philosophical instrument maker, and an optician-Rennie as a common millwright-and Telford as a stone mason; and to those who are capable of analysing the materials out of which the mercantile aristocracy of this great nation has been compounded, it will appear obvious that the institutions of society impose no unnecessary restrictions on the exertions of men of genius, and that no insolent and exclusive pretensions do operate favourably for one order, and unfavourably for another. But it does not follow that because a man does not get on, he is necessarily a martyr to the spirit of the age. It is quite possible that he may be in error as to the precise amount of merit which he possesses, and that the only sin which has been committed against him has been committed by himself. Self-complacency, when united, as it usually is, to a reasonable share of ignorance, is the greatest of all deceivers: and among no class of men are its pernicious effects so conspicuous as among your plebeian regenerators.

It is impossible, therefore, to discover on what grounds the arrogant assumptions of the supremacy men rest, or what good can possibly result from impressing on the minds of those whom the distress of the times and the calamities inseparable from a period of great commercial depression, have rendered sensible to every vibration of the political pendulum, that they have been defrauded of their natural rights by a most unjust usurpation on the part of their superiors in rank. The consequences of this glaring and absurd fiction— supposing it to have any consequences-can only be to sow the seeds of disunion, far and wide, and must evidently tend to bring about a collision between the different orders of the state, the issue of which it is not difficult to foresee.

But, though all were granted to the conceited fools, who rave about supremacy, which they demand, how shall it be proved that a knot of discontented and idle men, the ex-associates of a forgotten and silly confederacy are the real inheritors of the philosophers' stone? The mere fact of their being Owenites is prima facie evidence against them, and we should be glad to learn what other claims they can institute either to the gratitude, or the confidence of society. We are in the happiest state of ignorance imaginable on this point, but we are docile, and are willing to be enlightened. Meanwhile, we beg them to remember that we have our eyes upon them, and that we shall take especial care to watch their proceedings, and to counteract, as far as we can, the influence of their crude, political, and moral imaginations, on their ignorant and credulous brethren: for we grieve to think that the most interesting portion of our community is at this moment exposed to the desolating effects of the basest of all passions, political hatred, and to the most heartless of all kinds of philosophy-if it can be so called-the atheistical madness, and the mechanical pollution of modern France.

As the friends and supporters of rational liberty, in the most comprehensive sense in which these words can be employed, we have considered it right, at the very outset, to make a stand against encroachments on general freedom by any class of men whatever. We will yield obedience to the imperious domination of no

order, high or low, much less to the exactions of a bigotted sect, whom circumstances have invested with a little brief and unnatural authority; and whose tyranny, were it once submitted to, would be more intolerable than "Egyptian bondage." If we must be slaves, we shall have a choice of masters.

TEA AND TABBIES.

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

SHAKESPEARE.

Ir occasional alliterations be allowable in good writing, surely the one of "Tea and Tabbies" may be of the number. The association of Congo with single-blessedness is in my mind inseparable; and no sooner do I see a tray with a dozen of tea cups, a singing urn, and a salver redolent of currant-bun, shortbread and slate biscuit, than I immediately dream of my maiden aunt Lizzy, and of her extensive coterie of spinsters, like herself. But, after all, there are worse things in the world than an old tabby, especially when she possesses, like my sexagenarian relative, a few spare pagodas to leave behind her, to comfort those who are called to mourn her loss. For my own part however, I may honestly say that, without any ulterior views connected with my aunt's testament, I really enjoy her society, and obtain no little amusement from her tittletattle. Like all the rest, who are at least twenty summers on the other side of the grand climateric of Dumbarton (36), she has acquired a most prying and inquisitive disposition, and moreover has a most retentive memory for all the delicious bits of scandal that have had their day, during the present century. From my aunt I am always certain of having the first intelligence of all that is going on in the city, and of all that are going off. She can tell me too what ladies indulge their servants with draughts of J. O. Denny's 66 Entire," and what dames indulge themselves with Barclay and Perkins' double X. She can name those who keep locked, and those who keep open, pantries, who dine every day well en famille, and who live upon salt herring and potatoes the half of the twelvemonth, to give one grand blow-out party about Christmas. She can name you all the husbands that go to clubs, and all those who doze away the evening on the sofa at home. She can tell you of all the manœeuvering that is practised on the part of the impertinent to push themselves forward, and of all the vain upstarts who, from selfconceit and vanity, learn to cur their real friends and relatives, in the hope of popping their noses into a society which makes no secret of using them as its butt and laughing-stock. She can explain every mother's view with respect to her daughter, before the girl has worn out her London boarding-school bonnet, or her Edinburgh Degville dancing slippers. She knows what every marriageable miss has got, and what every unmarriageable old bachelor will leave; and can tell which house is the scene of continued strife and discord, and which the pattern and pillow of peace! But to the point:

Well, then, t'other night as I was slowly sauntering along Argyle street, I was suddenly stopped by a crowd gazing in wonderment at the rapid motion of a small steam-engine turning a large coffeemill. The interruption made me gaze too. I found the shop replete with all the delicacies of Arabia and China. The beans of Mocha lay in profusion in the window, and boxes of Souchong and Hyson stood piled in countless variety around. Their appearance immediately awakened a desire within me for one or other of those fascinating beverages. I felt my lips smack; and, at the same moment, the form of my old aunt Lizzy's tea-pot flitted athwart my brain. I resolved to taste its contents that same evening, and instantly hurried on to her snug and comfortable mansion. On entering, I asked if my aunt was at home, and was answered that she had company. Some of her gossips doubtless, thought I, and, opening the door of the parlour, stepped forward, and wished her a happy Christmas. "We are a' as merry as crickets," said she, "I'm glad to see you. This is my nephew, leddies, aud, I need na tell you that twa or three are setting their caps for him." I thanked her for the compliment, and placed myself at the board, and it was not long ere I found myself" up to the throat" in tea and scandal. Story followed story, tale succeeded tale, inuendo chased inuendo; when, at length, the conversation happened to turn on the beauty and accomplishments of a fair acquaintance, towards whom I had rather a considerable penchant. praised her of course, when Miss Betty hinted that I should not be carried away by appearances; for she heard, when Mary was at school, that she was a sad hypocrite. Miss Girzy said that she was very fond of flirting with redcoats, and Miss Babby averred that she was once seen smiling to a young man in church! One found fault with the expression of her eye, a second with the shape of Thinkher mouth, and a third with the smallness of her waist.

I

I

ing that I might get something allowed in favour of my fair acquaintance, I spoke of her lovely complexion, but my observation was met with a look which suggested the idea of its not being wholly her own. I then alluded to her fine ringlets, but the suppressed titter of Miss Girzy intimated that my fair friend owed this peculiar charm not to her own hair, but her hair-dresser. I next talked of her figure, but miss Baby asked me if I knew anything of the fictions of stays and bussels. I spoke of her amiable disposition. My aunt hinted that "smooth water runs deep." whispered something about her fortune; but the whole batch of tabbies whistled out that "there was much between the cup and the lip." Baffled at every point, in my defence of youth and beauty, I felt piqued and annoyed, and, having pulled my pencil out of my pocket, I committed four lines to the back of one of my calling cards, laid it on the table, made my bow, and took my leave. The old maidens, no doubt curious to know what the mysterious communication contained, scarcely allowed me to get out of the house, before Miss Girzy was requested to examine the document, and began to whistle through her false teeth the following impromptu which I had left them :--

You're not what you were; but just the reverse;
You're still what you were, which is very perverse;
And all the day long you do nothing but fret
Because you are not, what you never were yet!

LITERARY CRITICISM.

ALICE PAULET, a Sequel to SYDENHAM, or Memoirs of a Man of the World, 3 vols. London, 1831.

THE art of puffing was perhaps never carried so far as it has been by the Publishers of the volumes before us. In the modes

adopted by them to attract public attention to their wares, they have exhibited a degree of ingenuity and effrontery as great as that of Warren or Solomon. Ready-printed Sligo, prepared by their regular Whackers, has been circulated with every presentation copy, sent to the various newspapers, upon the plea of saving their editors the trouble of perusal, and the lazy compilers for the public press, feeling the obligation, put the volumes in their library, and, what was worse, inserted the puff under the head of "Critical Notices." Every book consequently that issued from that quarter, we found bedaubed with praise throughout the whole land, and whether its pages happened to be the brainless ravings of a fool, or the able and tasteful effusions of a genius, the same slavering opinion of both appeared in the journals. The consequence of all this falsehood and injustice towards the public, has been a reaction in the public mind. The literary fraud, though not openly attacked, has been discovered, by that most instructive and most potent of all arguments, that of many being personally taken in; and, hence the total disregard and contempt for all such like literary licentiousness. A novel of Colburn's, though praised in a manner that terms of commendation appear absolutely at a premium on the part of the critic, is now looked upon with the greatest suspicion, and works which would otherwise have won immediate fame from their intrinsic merits, are now destined to procure even a perusal by slow and painful degrees. Having ourselves not unfrequently "caught a Tartar," we allowed this self-same novel " ALICE PAULET," to lie for weeks among the literary lumber, that litters our library table, without once dreaming of inserting our ivory cutter into its uncut pages. It was only a few nights ago, when, in a fit of ennui, we took up one of the volumes, and having found that it exhibited something like talent, and a knowledge of the world, on the part of its author, we proceeded through its three volumes. The fact is, this novel, viewed as a vast variety of clever sketches of present manners, is really neither an unreadable nor an uninstructive work. Who for example, not altogether lost to every good feeling, would not shudder at the vicious course and fearful end of Colonel Sydenham's libertine life, and would not resolve at least to avoid the first approaches towards such a brutal existence? Who, on the other hand, with the least anxiety to be really happy, would not feel, on being introduced into the orderly, the plain and the moral interior of Mr. Paulet's home, the prudent wish rising in his bosom, that the same mode of life should be his, whether fate should place him in a cottage or a palace? And, who, that studies the character of Alice Paulet, would not wish to have such a companion to adorn either? If there be in the pages before us, a too anxious and evident attempt made to advocate a fallen political cause, there is at the same time no delicacy displayed, in openly exhibiting the monstrosities which bas brought it into disrepute. As a story to awaken curiosity "Alice Paulet" has no pretensions. There is little plot and no denouement, save that which is evidently seen from the beginning. It is the mere Memoirs of a Man of Fashion, with an account of the various scenes to which he is exposed-of a sworn Benedict brought, through contempt for the world and an example of domestic bliss, to abandon his single blessedness, and to become a married man. For the sake of the extra-proportion of our fair citizens, we would hope that some of our bachelors, would immediately follow such an example. Let them read the novel, and then make up their minds.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

PETER AND MARY;

A KITCHEN BALLAD;

Founded on Fact, and written expressly for all the Hangers-on about the Dripping Pan.

The learned have said (but who can tell

When learned folks are right)

That there is no such thing in life

As Loving at First Sight.
But I will now an instance bring,
You may rely upon,

How PETER BLACK fell deep in love
With MARY MUCKLEJOHN.

He through the kitchen window look'd,
When Mary just had got,

A round of beef all newly cook'd,
And smoking from the pot.
And ay he gazed and ay he smelt,
With many a hungry groan,
Till Mary's heart began to melt,
Like marrow in the bone.

And looking up, she sweetly smiled.
Her smile it seemed to say,
"Please, Mr. Black, if your inclined,
You'll dine with me to-day."

At least so Peter read her smile

And soon tripped down the stair;
When Mary kindly welcom'd him,

And help'd him to a chair.

There, much he praised the round of beef,
And much he praised the maid;
While she, poor simple soul, believed
Each flattering word he said.
Perhaps he made some slight mistakes,
Yet part might well be trew'd,

For tho' her face was no great shakes,
The beef was really good.

Then Peter pledged his troth, and swore
A constant man he'd be,

And daily, like a man of truth,

Came constantly at Three.

And thus he dared, tho' long and lean,
Each slanderous tongue to say,
That, though when present he seem'd long,
That he was long away.

Three was the hour, when bits were nice,

And then he show'd his face,
But show'd it there so very oft

That Mary lost her place.
Some fair ones say that love is sweet,
And hideth many a fault;
Our fair one found, when turn'd away,
Her love was rather salt.
Poor Mary says to Peter Black,
"Now wedded let us be,
Bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh,
You promised to make me."
"Flesh of your flesh, I grant I said,
Bone of your bone, I'd be;
But now, you know, you've got no flesh
And bones are not for me."
Poor Cooky now stood all aghast
To find him on the shy,
And rais'd her apron tail to wipe
The dripping from her eye.

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She sobbed Oh, perjured Peter Black,
The basest man I know,

You're Black by name, you're black at heart,
Since you can use me so."

Yet still to please her Peter's taste
Gave her poor heart relief;

So Mary went and hung herself
And thus became hung beef.
That grief had cut her up, t'was plain
To every one in town,

But Peter, when he heard the tale,
He ran and cut her down.
Fast, fast, his briny tears now flowed
Yet Mary's sands ran fleeter;
Such brine could not preserve the maid,
Though from her own salt Peter.
From this let Cookmaids learn to shun
Men who are long and lean;
For when they talk about their love
'Tis pudding that they mean.

IAN.

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

put certain of The topic has

A SINGULAR discovery has just been made in the Gallowgate, connected with the provisions of a will, which has our active managers of charities on the qui vive. for some nights past been the constant theme at the orgies of a club, whose tittle-tattle a contemporary is so fond of reporting. The sharp-nosed fraternity have found their game, and are at present in full cry. It is however yet a bottle of cognac to one of claret, whether they shall be able to run down the fox.

The people on both sides of the river are so much alarmed, at the prospect of the Jamaica Street Bridge being pulled down before the one at the foot of Saltmarket Street is finished, that a public meeting of the citizens is spoken of, to petition for at least a single year's reprieve for their old servant. It is to be hoped that the Trustees have not yet sealed its doom!

The following has been the standard conundrum at the late congregation of younkers round their grandfathers' and uncles' tables. "Why is a bantered fool like a principal dish at Christ"Because he's a roasted goose."

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LITERARY INTELLIGENCE, &c.

Observations made during a Twelve Years' Residence in a Mussulmann's Family in India; descriptive of the Mauners, Customs, and Habits of the Mussulmann People of Hindostan in Domestic Life, and embracing their Belief and Opinions, are preparing for the press by Mrs. MEER HASAN ALI.

Travels in the North of Europe in 1830-1, by Mr. ELLIOTT, with detailed descriptions of the wild and picturesque scenery, and personal adventures in spots far removed from civilized society, will also appear immediately.

A small volume on the Phenomena of Dreams, and other Transient Illusions, by W. C. DENDY is announced.

The First Part of a new and important Work is announced to appear this month, under the Editorship of Drs. FORBes, TWEEDIE, and CONOLLY, entitled the Cyclopædia of Practical Medicine; comprising Treatises on the Nature and Treatment of Diseases, Materia Medica and Therapeutics, Medical Jurispru dence, &c.

LONDON THEATRICALS.

From our London Correspondent.

I GAVE you yesterday my candid opinion of " Lords and Commons,' another sad proof of the decline of the dramatic art among us. One thing however generally succeeds here, and that is the Christmas Pantomine, to which the playwrights of both Theatres are directing their greatest attention. Drury Lane has sent forth its bill of fare, and a glorious bill it is, and unless the caterers break that promise to our hope which they have given unto our eye [not ear] we shall have the best Pantomime that we have had for years past. Covent Garden has issued its carte too, and seem The moreover to have borrowed a scene or too from its rival. public care little about this however: their look-out is who gives them the best fun for their money. "Men are but children of a larger growth" has been wisely remarked, and nowhere is the adage better exemplified than in the instance of this our London annual exhibition of downright folly; for who does not go to see this Christmas Harliquinade? Why, every cynic goes, and finds in it the very acmé of enjoyment! To me the name of Grimaldi is positive magic, for it cures me at once of the spleen or the blues; and I verily believe that it will be breathed by thousands in after days with a fervour that the world's greater men will never enjoy. At some future time I will perhaps endeavour to give you an idea of the Pantomimes at both houses; in the meantime I may tell you, that the name of the Pantomime at Drury Lane is "Harliquin and Little Thumb," that of Covent Garden being " Hop o' my Thumb and his Brothers." Are you aware that Kean is in Dublin, and, after playing the other night three acts of Richard, he got exhausted in the fourth, and fell down (before the fight) in the fifth? I fear his career is about completed. His whole life has been a play of the passions-the castastrophe is at hand-the bell has rung to announce the fall of the curtain!

By the bye, I may mention that Mr. S. KNOWLES' alteration of the Maid's Tragedy of Beaumont and Fletcher is to be brought The whole part of Aspatia is out soon after the holidays. A new omitted, and a good deal has been added by the adapter. five act Comedy, by Don TELESFERO DE TRUEBA, the SpanishEnglish dramatist, has been accepted at Covent Garden, it will be It produced so soon as Mr. C. Kemble is able to play its hero. is entitled "The Men of Pleasure," it is said not only to contain an excellent moral, but to possess some dramatic situations not excelled by perhaps any comedy since the days of the School for Scandal.

Do you know that your old favourite Miss FOOTE, or rather the Countess of Harrington, has got a son and heir? Who could have prophecied that the representative of Maria Darlington would have been the mother of Lord Petersham? Even Miss Carsdale and the Rev. Edward Irvin, with all their knowledge of the unknown tongues, could not have dreamed of it.-Adieu, once

more.

FOREIGN LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

THE results of the French Scientific Expedition to the Morea has begun to be published in Paris. The work is to form 3 vols. in folio, and appears in livraisons every six weeks.

Baron Odeleben has recently published a History of the French Revolution since 1789, for the use of the lower classes in Germany.

A Review of Reviews has appeared at Leipsic.

The famous German Poet MATTHISON, died at Worlitz in Dessau, March 12th, in the 71st year of his age. Many of his tender, tasteful and exquisite lyrics have been translated into our tongue. He ranked second to none in his own land of song, for elegance of style and refined fancy.

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FOREIGN THEATRICAL AND MUSICAL
INTELLIGENCE.

By the death of the ARCHDUKE RODOLPH of Austria, music and its professors have lost a distinguished protector. The Society of the Friends of Music, of which he was patron, performed a solemn service to his memory in the Augustine Church of Vienna. The Requiem of Mozart formed part of the service.

A school of Music and Singing on the Pestalozzi plan has been established at Munich for about two years by M. Læhle, a singer attached to the court. Its success has been so great as to draw the attention of the government, the King having bestowed on it the title of " Central Music School," and given it both a place of meeting and pecuniary aid.

GLASGOW: Published every Morning, Sunday excepted, by JOHN WYLIE, at the British and Foreign Library, 97, Argyle Street, Glasgow: STILLIES BROTHERS, Librarians, High Street, Edinburgh : W. REID & SON, Leith: MR. DAVID DICK, Bookseller, Paisley: MR. JOHN HISLOP, Greenock; and MR. GLASS, Bookseller, Rothsay.-And Printed by JOHN GRAHAM, Melville Place.

PRICE

PENNY

THE DAY,

A MORNING JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, FINE ARTS, FASHION, &c.

VELUTI IN SPECULO..

GLASGOW, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 4, 1832.

FEMALE FASHIONS-PROPOSALS FOR WRITING

A HISTORY OF THEM.

What's this a sleeve? 'tis a demi-cannon:
What! up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
Here's snip, and nip and cut, and slish and slash
Like to a censer in a barber's shop:-

Why, what, o' devil's name callest thou this?

SHAKESPEARE.

THERE is nothing more distressing to a philosopher than to witness the mis-direction of the labour and genius which are expended on female dress. If the same minds, whichare so industrious in fixing the shape of a sleeve, or the dimensions of a cap, were applied to the prosecution of some useful end, it would give an impulse to society which has not been equalled since the invention of printing. To be convinced of this truth, we have only to reflect on the many better ways in which women might employ their time, and their talents, and on the unceasing assiduity with which they devote both to a matter of so little importance as the decoration of their persons. It would seem indeed that they are all as mad after some imaginary system of perfection in dress, as if they were seeking for the philosopher's stone, and that they are bent upon attaining it by metamorphosing themselves into as many forms as are passed through the crucible of a chemist.

The most melancholy circumstance which attends this pursuit of a perfection in dress, is that it has hitherto been altogether fruitless. Every combination of form and colour has been tried to give stability to a fashion, but without effect. Our females have imitated in turn the plumage of the the canary, parrot and the peacock. They have changed her as often as the chameleon, and have been smooth or covered with points, at pleasure, like the porcupine. They have accomplished the ambitious wish of the frog in the fable, and puffed themselves out to a size considerably beyond that of nature, and again they have shrunk into the smallest compass with the dexterity of a rat. They have been all things at all times -big at top and small at bottom, like a jar; big at bottom and small at top, like a piner-pig; and big in the middle and small at both ends, like a nutmeg grater. In the same country they have successively personified all the articles of crockery, and in different parts of the world they have represented at the same time every shape of a bottle.

It would be difficult to say what were the fashions that prevailed among the ladies of the ancient times, but it is probable that they were sufficiently extrava. gant, as both the Greek and Latin authors describe a love of ornament as the ruling passion of the sex. ex. Vir. gil thus shews great knowledge of the world, in making the chief solicitude of his heroine to be upon the comeliness of her appearance; and it may even be made a question whether the poet had not something of this sort in view when he said " A woman is always a changing thing."* We may suppose from those proofs, and others which it would be too tedious to adduce, that the Roman ladies had such a thing as la bonne mode as well as the moderns, and that the changes from

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one fashion to another were as capricious in their days as they are in ours.

Our

In England, as we learn from authentic records, the changes of female dress have succeeded one another with astonishing rapidity. It is distressing for us to think how often hoops have been abandoned and resumed since the days of our Maiden Queen; and how often, in the recollection of most of us, the waist has been moved from one part of the body to another. Our country women have, indeed, shewn themselves as subject to the golden delusion as any others of their sex; for, notwithstanding that they have never yet happened upon the perfect fashion, they seem determined not to abandon the search for it. Considering this infatuation, it would be an inestimable benefit bestowed upon the worthy creatures who are its victims would some kind individual only prevail upon them to abandon their useless schemes and experiments, and would convince them that the perfect system of dress which they are so desirous of discovering, is no more than a pernicious fiction of the imagination. Board of Health, having consulted upon the best means of accomplishing this object, are of opinion that nothing would be more useful than a history of the fashions of female dress, in as far as they can be ascertained, from the earliest ages until the present time. As such a work, placed in the hands of our young and old ladies, would open their eyes to the vanity of the speculation which they have been so long fostering, we are naturally anxious to see it undertaken by a person well qualified for the task. An author who is in want of occupation, might find it to his account to take up this subject; and it is one which would afford a good deal of room for fine writing. He might make considerable use of the French terms of millinery in giving a polish and harmony to his sentences; and he might increase the importance of his work by dividing it into chronological sections. Thus, one book might be occupied with the growth of the hoop, from its introduction into Great Britain till its suffocation by the large sleeve; another might embrace the reign of the turban; and a third might be usefully devoted to the usurpation of the patch, from the period when it conquered the empire of nature, till when it was finally overthrown by two foreign Princes, Kalydor and Macassar. It is needless to remark that the subject is equally prolific in speculative disquisitions, and that the author might be entitled (like Mr. James Mill*) to style his work a philosophical history. Every one must perceive what a metaphysical chapter could be made on the precise place of the waist, or the natural sympathy between the fan and the reticule, or on the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of the petticoat. If these suggestions will engage any one to undertake writing the work which we recommend, our Board shall certainly patronize his labours; and, should any lady, as being more experienced in such matters, take the task upon herself, we engage to assist her either by inventing learned names for her authorities, or by doing any thing else of that kind which shall be in our power. In the meantime, we shall present the reader with an extract from our London correspondent's letter, which we have just received by express, and which we faith

Author of the History of British India.

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