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with a mark of distinction. As there were very few slaves among them, relations served one another, or where such mu. tual assistance was impracticable, a man served himself. This custom extended even to their monarchs. At entertainments, the number of their guests, never exceeded thirteen; and there were two musicians. Their king used to give magnificent banquets for many days successively; at those banquets no guest was permitted to drink more than twelve cups. It is further said of their kings, that they were very assiduous to gain popularity, and that they sought it by the noblest means, by promoting the true welfare and happiness of their people. Their conduct was subject to the most vigorous examination ; they were sometimes under the necessity of pleading their own cause before their subjects, who had a privilege to bring impeachments against them, in which their life was in question,
Their houses were adorned with precious stones; the peristyles were overlaid with gold, and the cha piters were ornamented with statues of solid silver. The doors and the frontispieces were wrought with great'symmetry, and elegance, and finished with gold, silver, and ivory. Their towns had no fortifications, for their inhabitants enjoyed the sweets of peace. The country, though very fertile, did not produce olives, but for the juice of that fruit they substituted the oil of a grain called sesama. Their statues, engraved works, and other embellishments of the fine arts, were brought to them from foreign countries. They had so great an abhorrence of dead bodies, that they even buried the remains of their monarchs in dungbills.
(To be Resumed.)
THE DICTIONARY OF LOVE.
AND WOOER'S VADE MECUM. CONTAINING AN EXPLANATION OF ALL EQUIVOCAL WORDS AND EXPRES
SIONS WHICH OCCUR IN THAT UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE.
“Why, the world are all thinking about it,
And as for myself I can swear,
I'd scarce feel a wish to go there.
To the Editor, SIR, -As many gentlemen have published, in other works, specimens of projected new dictionaries of various kinds, such, for instance, as those of Mr. Pytches in the Monthly Magazine, &c. may I request your indulgence in allowing me to submit to the public, through the medium of your Flowers of Lilerature, the following samples of a “ Lover's Dictionary,” which I have long been preparing, and of which, previous to committing it finally to the press, I am desirous of having the opinion of judges more competent than myself to decide npon its merits, in order, that I may be spared the expense of paper and printing, should it apo pear totally worthless, and unworthy of publication. . . · I cannot, I must confess, pride myself upon the originality of my idea, the hint having been taken from an obscure publication of the same nature, translated from the French; in which, amongst a vast collection of trash, some sensible remarks occasionally occur; these I have not scrupled liberally to transfer to my own work, with such alterations and corrections as appeared necessary; and having candidly acknowledged this, I trust I shall not after this be charged with plagiarism by any one who may chance to stumble upon the publication I have alluded to.
The great utility of my dictionary, will, I trust, be made clearly apparent by an attentive consideration of the following remarks. All arts are distinguished by their peculiar. ternis and phrases. Physic and heraldry are scarcely sciences, but in virtue of their hard technical nomenclatures. Love, itself, having lost its primeval unsoplisticated nature, and being now reduced into a mere art, has, like other arts, adopted a set of words and expressions, of which a lover should no more be ignorant, than a seaman should be unacquainted with the terms of navigation. A proficiency, how." ever, in these mysteries, is by no means of such easy attainment as may be imagined.
Nature, it will perhaps he said, gives excellent lessons, which are amply sufficient, without the aid of further instruction, since every one knows “ when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows." This, however, is reasoning upon antiquated and obsolete principles, which are as false in love, as those of Aristotle are in natural philo
sophy. Nature, alone, is but of very little service in these - matters ; nay, may even be extremely detrimental to those who trust to her guidance in a passion, of which art has long usurped the government,
Whatever errors and offences may be committed in love. affairs, it will be found, on recurring to the original cause of them, that they have arisen from a misrepresentation of some term, which has not been reduced to its just acceptation. Then alas ! those thus mistaken reproach themselves in the tone of a tragedy queen, deserted like poor Dido, who, for want of the experience of a modern widow, took in a literal sense all that Æneas said to her. That pious Trojan made no scruple of employing all the fine words imaginable, and poor Dido was silly enough to take them in their literal meaning, making no deduction from their apparent signification. Who does not know how dear her simplicity cost her, and what a hubub she made when her sanctified lover pleaded his mental reservation, with all the casuistry of the most consummate methodist : his fine speeches appear to have amounted to nothing more than an assurance of his admiration, a declaration which a modern bard has thus neatly versified :
« Yet I swore not that I was in love with you, Fanny :
Oh, no, for I felt it could never be true; ... I but sạid, what I've sworn very often to ,many,
There's few I would rather be kissing than you.LITTLE. The example, then, of poor Dido, may suffice to shew the necessity of such a vocabulary as the following, to put the rising generation on their guard against the artifices of gallantry, which scarcely consists of any thing but these quid pro quo's. It will serve, in some measure, to prevent such disastrous accidents as those of the Carthagenian queen, &c.; and young people, especially of the fair sex, whose mistakes are the most dangerous and irreparable, will find their account in giving it an attentive perusal. They may here in safety gather that fruit from the tree of knowledge, which is seldom acquired but by the most fatal expe- ' rience.
What I now submit to the readers of the Flowers of Literature, is a mere abstract of the treatise I have written on the subject. Should this slight sketch of my plan be approva ed of, it is my intention to print the whole work immediately, which will doubtless experience a more extensive circulation than any dictionary, encyclopædia, or vocabulary hitherto published, since the subject is alike interesting to persons of all classes, all dispositions, and all ages,
“ Love rules the camp, the court, the grove,
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.-WALTER SCOTT. Sincerely hoping that the fruit of my labours may be the prevention of numberless faut pas, and consequently a rot duction in the numbers of the fallen angels who frequent our streets, our theatres, and even our churches, allow me to subscribe myself, Mr. Editor, Your humble servant,
ABSENCE. How dear does your absence cost me! How slow will the
hours seem: This signifies literally—“ if I were always with you, my collection of fine speeches would speedily be exhausted, and I should have nothing new to say to you; but when I see you again I shall have replenished my stock, and you will like me the better.".
Some rhyming fools doat upon an occasion of complaining, in verse, of the tortures they endure by absence; this, however, is generally nothing more than an opportunity of she wing their aptness at rhyming, at the grievous expense of truth and common sense, which they martyrize in the stale, trite hyperboles of hours being months, months years, &c. whilst, all the while, they are laughing in their sleeves at the credulity of the women in believing what they say. ;
Absence has given the death-blow to many love-affairs; this, however, depends entirely upon the strength of the passion; a moderate one is cooled by absence, but a violent one is increased ; as the wind, which bloweth out the candle, kindles the fire."
This word is sometimes used with great art and delicacy; as in the following case for instance. A lady gʻrants a slight favour, as a kiss of her hand, her cheek, or perhaps even of her mouth, and the lover, who is never satisfied, presumeš upon such encouragement to take still greater liberties; the lady upon this, being, very naturally, somewhat afarmed, begins to chide the naughty man.-" I am too good-natared,"
says she ;~" I own,” replies the gallant, “ that I abuse your good-nature, but with so much love as I have, it is impossible to unite discretion.” This confession, that he abuses her goodness, carries with it such an air of candour, that it is impossible not to forgive him.
This phrase, severely pronounced, may be employed by a lady to disconcert her lover, to inspire him with respect, or to check his forwardness. It is as much as to say " let us see whether you are a novice or not? whether you have duly taken your degrees of assurance, or whether you are only in the horn-book of gallantry.” You address yourself to the wrong person, I can assure you.
This little affectation in a woman, merely means, that she is not sorry to have a lover, but that she thinks it necessary to assume an air of dignity, to remind him of her value, or, in other words, to give the spur, while she reins in the bridle.
These finesses, however, alarm none but mere milksops and fresh-water adventurers on the ocean of gallantry; and that terrible expression—to whom do you think you are addressing yourself? is much oftener a trap for a compliment, than a mark of anger.
ADORE. This is a very common word in the language of love, and its, use proves two things :
First, That the men are perfectly acquainted with the foibles of the women, who are apt to think themselves god. desses or divine creatures at least. .
Secondly, That the men will spare no expression which they think will make the women fose the small share of sense their vanity may have left them.
I love you.— Love! did I say?- I adore you ! This is a very frequent speech with lovers, the true meaning of which is—," the secret of pleasing consists in flattering your self-love at the expense of your understanding. I am striving hard to persuade you, that you have turned iny brain; not, indeed, that such is the case, but whilst I laugh