The social affections soon suffer decay; Like to Java's drear waste they embarren the heart, Till the blossoms of love and of friendship depart. Ah, ladies, and was it by heaven design'd That ye should be merciful, loving, and kind? Did it form you like angels, and send you below To prophesy peace-to bid charity flow? Cursed weed! that can make our faint spirits resign The character mild of their mission divine; That can blot from their bosoms that tender ness true, Which from female to female forever is due! O, how nice is the texture-how fragile the frame Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair fame! 'Tis the sensitive plant; it recoils from the breath, And shrinks from the touch as if pregnant with death. How often, how often, has innocence sigh'd; Has beauty been reft of its honor-its pride; Has virtue, though pure as an angel of light, Been painted as dark as a demon of night: All offer'd up victims, an auto de fe, At the gloomy cabals-the dark orgies of tea! If I, in the remnant that 's left me of life, Am to suffer the torments of slanderous strife, Let me fall, I implore, in the slangwhanger's claw, Where the evil is open, and subject to law; Not nibbled, and mumbled, and put to the rack By the sly underminings of tea-party clack: Condemn me, ye gods, to a newspaper roast ing, But spare me! O, spare me, a tea-table toast ing! No. XX.-Monday, January 25, 1808. FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. "Extremum hunc mihi concede laborem."- Virg. IN this season of festivity, when the gate of time swings open on its hinges, and an IN honest, rosy-faced New Year comes wad dling in, like a jolly, fat-sided alderman, loaded with good wishes, good humor, and minced pies,—at this joyous era it has been the custom from time immemorial, in this ancient and respectable city, for periodical writers, from reverend, grave, and potent essayists like ourselves, down to the humble but industrious editors of magazines, reviews, and newspapers, to tender their subscribers the compliments of the season; and when they have slyly thawed their hearts with a little of the sunshine of flattery, to conclude by delicately dunning them for their arrears of subscription money. In like manner the carriers of newspapers, who In undoubtedly belong to the ancient and honorable order of literati, do regularly at the commencement of the year, salute their patrons with abundance of excellent advice, conveyed in exceedingly good poetry, for which the aforesaid good-natured patrons are well pleased to pay them exactly twenty-five cents. walking the streets I am every day saluted with good wishes from old gray-headed negroes whom I never recollect to have seen before; and it was but a few days ago that I was called to receive the compliments of an ugly old woman who last spring was employed by Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room and put things in order; a phrase which, if rightly understood, means little else than huddling everything into holes and corners, so that if I want to find any particular article, it is, in the language of a humble but expressive saying"looking for a needle in a haystack." recognizing my visitor, I demanded by what authority she wished me a a "Happy New Year!" Her claim was one of the weakest she could have urged, for I have an innate and mortal antipathy to this custom of putting things to rights; so giving the old witch a pistareen, I desired her forthwith to mount her broomstick, and ride off as fast as possible. Not Of all the various ranks of society, the bakers alone, to their immortal honor be it recorded, depart from this practice of making a market of congratulations; and in addition to always allowing thirteen to the dozen, do with great liberality, instead of drawing on the purses of their customers at the New Year, present them with divers large, fair, spiced cakes; which, like the shield of Achilles, or an Egyptian obelisk, are adorned with figures of a variety of strange animals, that, in their conformation, out-marvel all the wild wonders of nature. This honest gray-beard custom of setting apart a certain portion of this good-for-nothing existence for the purposes of cordiality, social merriment, and good-cheer, is one of the inestimable relics handed down to us from our worthy Dutch ancestors. In perusing one of the manuscripts from my worthy grandfather's mahogany chest of drawers, I find the New Year was celebrated with great festivity during that golden age of our city, when the reins of government were held by the renowned Rip Van Dam, who always did honor to the season by seeing out the old year; a ceremony which consisted in plying his guests with bumpers, until not one of them was capable of seeing. "Truly," observes my grandfather, who was generally of these parties,-"Truly, he was a most stately and magnificent burgomaster! in |