THE LOVER'S LEXICON.

PART II.

LUNA-An interesting pale-faced lady, who is said to have considerable influence over all kinds of madmen, lovers not excepted;-and in consequence of which, every member of the latter class makes a point of addressing at least fifty sonnets to her during his courtship.

LOVE. This word is, as it were, the keystone of the arch which this dictionary forms, and therefore merits a very particular definition, if it be possible to give one. But love is a passion which varies in its operation on every individual according to his or her temper and disposition; and therefore, opinions on this subject differ very materially. It is certain, however, that all who have been, or are, in love, must be either better or worse for it. It is a flame lighted up in the heart to cherish and ripen the good qualities there implanted, (as the sun ripens the corn)-but nevertheless will, if fanned to too great a fierceness by the hands of folly and romance, only scorch or destroy those qualities for ever.

MARBLE-HEARTED.-A woman is so styled, who has sense enough to disbelieve and despise the extravagant professions of her lovers.

MATRIMONY Is like laudanum: it sometimes allays the fever and restlessness of love, but oftener causes it to sleep for ever.

NOVELS-Works that pretend to picture human nature and life, but which present in general nothing but distorted views of them. In these doses of fiction, love is always the principal ingredient; and a novel therefore is the lover's bible.

No! This at first appears a word of dreadful import to a lover, yet it is not so; for a woman, when she merely says "No," never means it. If she really wishes to express a refusal, she will speak by actions rather than by words.

NAMES-Are of vast importance. No youth will ever be beloved if his name be either Timothy, Peter, Jonathan, Nicholas, or Barnaby, &c. A fictitious one is, in such a case, the only remedy. The same rule applies to females. All Sarahs, Susans, Anns, Dorothys, &c. are sure to die old maids, unless they style themselves instead, either Angelina, Madeline, Lavinia, Seraphina, &c.-In short, a pretty romantic name often proves more effective in the campaigns of Cupid, than the best stock of that good sound sense apt to be preferred by ordinary mortals.

OATH-A pleasant way of filling up a spare minute during a dearth of topics for conversation; like the waves of the sea, they are only formed to be broken.

OH! This interjection, plaintively uttered by a lover, is exceedingly affecting; and can only be equalled by the high melodious notes of an amorous grimalkin.

PRETTY. This term bears about the same relation to that of beautiful, as the stars do to the moon.

PRUDE-A woman who affects to be endowed with a vast quantity of modesty; but who, in reality, possesses none at all.

PERFECTION. See Ignis fatuus.

PERFIDIOUS.-A man is so called, who, having discovered that the damsel he vowed to love for ever is a fool, or otherwise unworthy of him, deserts her; thus preferring an act of what is called dishonour, to making himself and the late object of his affections miserable for life.

POETS. All lovers are poets-or, at least, are thought to be so by themselves and their mistresses; inasmuch as they pen their amorous effusions in rhyme, with which, of course, reason has little or nothing to do. In the eyes of unprejudiced persons, such effusions are considered but as

bubbles on the stream of love-to be looked at-laughed at-and forgotten.

QUARRELS Breezes which generally increase the speed of the bark of love;-though sometimes, if very violent, they will make a shipwreck of it. REASON. Obsolete in the vocabulary of love.

RING. As matrimony has been compared to laudanum, the ring may be called the phial, from whence it is swallowed.

REVENGE. If a romantic lover on declaring his passion, meets with encouragement, and is afterwards scorned and rejected, he instantly swears he will have revenge! This is all very fine, and very terrible—but what does it amount to?-He sends the offending fair one a few abusive letters, in which his affection may still be faintly seen as the moon behind a cloud;-frowns and struts, consequentially whenever he meets her ;-raves against her by day, and dreams about her by night;-and finally, performs da capo, by repeating, with tenfold ardour, his professions of everlasting regard. This is the sum-total of a lover's vengeance.

RELIGION.-A lover's religion is always the same as that of his mistress, If she be a Catholic, he must not protest against it; or, if she belong to the church of England, he must not dare to dissent from her ;-at least, so far as appearances go, which indeed in such matters are all that young people generally care about.

SILENCE IS a language that may easily be understood, if those interpreters, the eyes, are well attended to.

SIGHING. As water by continually dripping has been said to penetrate rocks; so do lovers, by a multiplicity of sighs, hope to make an impression on the hard hearts of their fair ones.

SINCERITY-A quality which does more harm than good to its possessor: for example-As many ladies change their opinions every five minutes, what success would that lover meet with, whose unfashionable taste for sincerity prevented his acceding to each and all of their camelion-like assertions? He would most assuredly be voted a bore.

SUICIDE. Despairing lovers talk a great deal about committing this crime-a sure sign that they do not intend it. The few that do really resort to self-murder as a cure for disappointed love, are generally weakminded boys and girls, who have scarcely any other notion of life than that which a sentimental novel has afforded them.

SCREAMING A very delightful science, resorted to by ladies when there is the least occasion for it, in order to render themselves doubly interesting and attractive,

SEDUCER-A being whom the world "delighteth to honour," but whose fame is built on the ruin and misery of those whom he has dishonoured. He is one who is scented with the odour of those flowers which he has plucked from the stem of virtue, and then cast to the earth-to wither-to be trampled on-and to die.

TEARS-Shed by crocodiles, and by a woman when she wishes to persuade her lover to dismiss reasonable suspicions, or to grant an unreasonable request; thus making a fool of herself to make a greater fool of another.

TORTURES.-A lover's tortures never equal the pain occasioned by a violent tooth-ache:-nevertheless, those who yield up their minds entirely to love, do certainly suffer from it; as a man will most assuredly burn his hands, when he only intended to warm them, if he keeps them too close and too long before the fire.

TIME-Is a most valuable steed, which, while we ride, we cannot control; and which if we do not use well, will certainly throw us;—lovers in particular, who trifle with him, are sure afterwards to repent of it.

TONGUE-The organ of speech, on which is played various amatory hymns, and most of them in a flat or minor key.

TERMAGANT-A woman whose element seems to be perpetual discord,→ MAGNET, VOL, IV. PART XXV.

as the salamander is supposed to exist only in the fiercest fire. The latter animal's strange nature cannot be changed, nor is it needed: but for the former an infallible method of cure would certainly be very desirable. Dr. Shakspeare prescribes coercive or violent measures-vide "Taming of the Shrew;" but others again are of opinion, that those who practised such operations, would only be uniting two fires; and therefore recommend, that in lieu of them, the said termagant's element—the fire of discord-be extinguished by water, proceeding from the fountains called affection and patience.

VANITY-A rock on which many a fair and noble vessel has split, when not guided in its course by that admirable pilot, sense.

UGLINESS-The reverse of charity; for it frequently neutralizes or covers a multitude of virtues. An ugly man in such case resembles a book, the contents of which are disregarded, because of its unseemly binding.

WOMEN-Are both underrated and overrated, especially by young men; who either esteem them little inferior to angels, or scarcely superior to devils. Some will maintain them to be stars, whose brightness is most apparent in the night of adversity: while others compare their love to the flame of a candle, and assert that that is not so easily extinguished, as is their affection. Generally speaking those who keep the medium between these two extremes, are most likely not to be deceived or disappointed. Finally, however, let it be understood, that he who calls women angels, is a fool; but that he who terms them devils, must be a knave.

WHIMSICAL. Let a lover who has a whimsical mistress, be assured that his fate will never be decided; for how can he become acquainted with the lady's mind, when she never knows it herself?

WRITING A trumpet, which now-a-days almost every one can play; and on which lovers, in particular, frequently perform. Of those who sound the loudest and most flourishing notes,-ladies, beware!

WRETCHEDNESS.-A wretched lover, if left entirely to himself, and not soothed or pitied,-will soon recover his cheerfulness. He is like a bottle of wine, the sediment of which has been shaken up, and the liquor thereby rendered thick ;-but which, however, if allowed to stand untouched, will soon regain its former clearness.

YES. The welcome "Amen," to the lover's last prayer.

F. M

STARLIGHT.

Now day-light dies-the last bright ray
O'er yonder hills has pass'd away;

The winds have swept o'er the raging deep,
And lull'd its foaming waves to sleep;

They too are hush'd, and not a sound,

Save the nightingale's song, is heard around.
There is a light in the dark blue sky-

Its beauty expands to my gazing eye;

It is from thee, my favourite star!

'Tis the light that beams from thy radiant car,
And seems a herald sent to call
The stars to a merry festival:
The smiling orbs in answer glow,
Like shining jewels on the brow

Of a fair girl, whose face reveals

The bliss that through her bosom steals.
Oh! who on such a sight could gaze,

And not in adoration raise

His soul to that benignant Power,

Who gave to man the starlight hour!

L.

THE VEILED BRIDE.-PART II.

(Concluded from p. 111.)

THE following are copies of the letters alluded to, as containing the sequel of the foregoing story.

CLARA TO MADAME DE LIMEUIL.

My dearest Mother,

I am in the greatest agitation, and scarcely able to write; I will, however, endeavour to compose myself; and indeed, what better means of regaining my wonted peace of mind can I seek, than writing to thee, tenderest of parents?

I promised in my last letter to give you an account of that celebrated beauty, the consort of our young Dauphin, Mary Queen of Scots; but how attempt to describe her charms, when all our famous poets, even Ronsard and Jodelle, confess their incapacity to do them justice; and indeed, at this moment of reconciliation, after having been on the brink of losing her friendship for ever, at this moment, when I still behold the smile of forgiveness playing round her lips, I feel less capable than ever of such a task: however, I must relate to you all that has lately occurred.

The fair Queen Mary, who treats me with all the friendship of a relative, and even calls me her little sister, frequently comes to pay me a visit, and is accustomed, whenever she has occasion to appear in some new or foreign costume, to come and dress in my apartment, in order to have my opinion upon it. Among the crowd of admirers who gather round the royal flower of Scotland, is a certain nobleman of the name of Chastelard; an infatuated, foppish creature, who on all occasions pursues and annoys her with the expressions of his ridiculous passion. The fair Dauphiness, affable to all, speaks now and then to him, and occasionally condescends to accept his poetical homage, although in her heart she despises and detests him. I said his poetical homage, though it is well known that the verses are purchased by him from the pen of Ronsard. As he observed that the Dauphiness distinguished me by her friendship above all the young ladies of the court, he cultivated my acquaintance, and at last ventured to solicit me to intercede in his behalf with my royal friend. You may well suppose that I gave him a distinct denial, but the coxcomb carried his presumption so far, that on one occasion, when I accompanied the fair Mary to one of the Queen's private circles, where we both went attired in the Scottish garb, he introduced himself secretly in a closet, and at the very moment when, on our return, we had begun to take off our dresses, he stepped forward, and throwing himself at the feet of the Queen, declared his passion. She sternly commanded him to retire instantly. How beautiful did she appear in this moment of offended majesty!-Frightened to death, and confused as I was, I scarcely could convince her of my innocence, for she insisted that he could not possibly have been introduced without my knowledge. I was most sensibly hurt at her suspicion, and at the loss of her friendship; but the worst was yet to come. The following day there was to be a small

me.

tournament. As the affair between the Queen of Scots and Chastelard had become known, and been generally talked of, the latter was vile enough to pretend, that his visit had been intended to me. The consequence was, that when I appeared by the side of Queen Catherine, I remarked a general whispering, and observed that all eyes were upon I thought I should have died with shame, and the more so, as the Dauphiness did not appear to notice me. At the close of the tournament, Chastelard approached me with a smile of confidence, but I publicly turned my back upon him; upon this he muttered something about forgetfulness and former favours, whereupon I turned round, and unable to restrain my indignation, called him a liar, and left him. In a forced passion, and in a shrill tone, I heard him exclaim-" My lady, this demands satisfaction!" At this moment the young Count Mongomery approached me, and begged me to leave this satisfaction to him. My heart was full, I was unable to utter a single syllable in reply, and the Count took my silence for consent. "Mount and break a lance with me, Chastelard!" cried he leaping into his saddle, and forcing the dastard to do the same. I saw that the Queen was about to interpose, but it was too late, for Chastelard, struck by the irresistible lance of the young Count, lay already stretched on the sand. There was a general burst of applause. The Queen kissed my forehead, and the fair Mary approached and embraced me tenderly, asking my pardon for the suspicion she had entertained, and in such touching expressions that I could not restrain my tears. The whispers of the crowd were finished; nothing was now visible but an expression of universal contempt against Chastelard, and the King gave orders that he should instantly quit the

court.

The following evening there was a private assembly at the Queen's; my attendance could not be dispensed with. Nay, you may well smile, my dear Mother, and so do I too; but your little Clara, with all her simplicity, is now the decided favourite of the two most distinguished queens in Christendom; of Catherine de Medicis, the proud and mighty Queen of France; and of the lovely Sovereign of Scotland. You often praised the beauties of the court of Francis the First; but you should see an assembly of the Queen's to be in perfect raptures. The royal consort herself still commands admiration; but what shall I say of that soft, melancholy beauty, the Princess Elizabeth, once happy in being betrothed to the heir of Spain, Don Carlos; but now condemned to be the spouse of his father, the gloomy Philip the Second. There is an ineffable melancholy in her dark eyes; and it is remarked, that she hardly ever speaks since the sad change in her fate. At her side brightens in a charming contrast, that wonderful child, her sister, Marguerite de Valois, all spirit, all splendour; but there is something in her burning eye, which I almost fear, speaking, as it does, of a genius of an awful kind. Then there are the famous beauties Mademoiselle de Tournon, and Maria Princess of Nevers, and many more-all surrounded by the flower of our young nobility, who do not yield to them in beauty and accomplishments, really present a most splendid spectacle. But all-all of them must yield to the lovely Mary Stuart. You should see her when, in her Scottish attire, she sings the old ballads of her country, accompanying herself on the lute; or when she recites some of