gages a girl's attention and distracts her from the business of the night, you may see the mother prowling about with fretful uneasiness, like a cat whose kitten is in the paws of some unlucky urchin, and at last fairly breaking in on the conversation to hurry her daughter away from the troublesome interloper. I have felt the deepest compassion for many a worthy fellow, whose accomplishments, talents, and virtues should have made him a most desirable match, thus warned off the premises like an unqualified sportsman, and treated with contempt in the quarter in which contempt is most insufferable, merely for the want of a little dross. Where these practices are carrying on in a family, all agreeable and instructive conversation is banished the house. Even in the most intimate sociality, the necessity of knocking up a quadrille to the piano-forte, or of engaging the musical misses in the display of their acquirements, cuts short all sweet converse. All the dust of the carpet is beaten into your eyes and throat, your ears are stunned, your person pushed about the narrow room, or you are condemned to listen for the five thousandth time to "Bid me discourse," and a " Di tanti palpiti,” sung in that time and tune which it pleaseth fortune, or the no less capricious tempers of the melodious exhibitants.

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For these and a thousand other reasons, which for brevity I must now omit, it becomes a point of prudence and good policy to adopt a plan that shall consign matrimony, like all other trades, to the forenoon, and to the commercial part of the city, leaving the haunts of pleasure and the hours of recreation to their legitimate purposes. In France, marriage is transacted by private contract." The unmarried whey faces are kept in the back-ground, and talking does not spoil conversation in the saloons. This arrangement, however, in which the young folks are not "brought out," is too foreign for our habits, and cannot be recommended. But nothing could be more convenient than the erection of an Exchange exclusively appropriated to matrimonial speculation. The neighbourhood of Mark-lane would afford a good site, as country gentlemen might then dispose of their corn and their children at the same time. Or a room might be hired in the Auction-mart, or at Tattersall's, for the purpose. The fitting up of show-rooms or Bazaar's in the neighbourhood of Bond-street might have its utility, in which each girl might be ticketed, and "no second price be taken." This would answer the better, as in Bazaars "no credit can possibly be given," and "no goods are returned after they have left the shop." Subservient to this scheme, registers might be opened, by which an inspector might at a glance know how far any number in the catalogue would suit. By such arrangements we might have our evenings to ourselves; and mammas, their daughters, and young gentlemen of good expectations, might each and all enjoy the delights of social intercourse, undisturbed by anxious speculation, and unharrassed by the dread of spring-guns and steel-traps in concerts, dances, and opera suppers. As things are now conducted, we must marry in one's own defence, and run the risk of perpetual annoyance at home in order to obtain some chance of a little tranquil enjoyment abroad. This certainly requires reform, and something might be done in the shape of a rider to some of the many marriage acts which are daily passing the two houses of Parliament. Let the members look to it, at their leisure. C. M.

NEW SOCIETY OF LITERATURE.

THE project of a Royal Society of Literature which so long lay mys teriously in embryo, has again presented itself to the world, or, to use parliamentary language, assumed somewhat of a tangible shape." Never was the origin of a society, which might naturally be expected to receive its concoction among the most celebrated literati of the country, so obscure or so little known to those interested in its proceedings. Vacillation and uncertainty have marked its progress hitherto, and whether the present announcement of its constitution is to be regarded as the final result of the deliberations of its founders, or to be considered only as an initiament to be followed by another interval of silence ere its transactions be again visible to the public eye, remains for time to decide. Its commencement has been any thing but auspicious; and if the future be to be judged by the past, the hopes of its founders are likely to suffer disappointment from the very nature of the course they have been pursuing.

A recent announcement of the transactions of a meeting held on the 17th of June, has disclosed to the community the operations which have consumed two or three years in completing. A reference is easily made to these at length in some of the diurnal publications. It appears that a president (the Bishop of St. David's), eight vice-presidents, a council of sixteen fellows,* a treasurer, librarian, and secretary, have been elected. Very few of these individuals can be considered immediately connected with literature. The Society is described as being "under the patronage and endowed by the munificence of his Majesty King George the Fourth, for the advancement of literature-by the publication of inedited remains of ancient literature, and of such works, as may be of great intrinsic value, but not of that popular character which usually claims the attention of publishers-by the promotion of discoveries in literature-by endeavours to fix the standard, as far as is practicable, and to preserve the purity of our language, by the critical improvement of our lexicography-by the reading, at public meetings, of interesting papers on history, philosophy, poetry, philology, and the arts, and the publication of such of those papers, as shall be approved of, in the society's transactions-by the assigning of honorary rewards to works of great literary merit, and to important discoveries in literature; and by establishing a correspondence with learned men in foreign countries, for the purpose of literary inquiry and information." The two prizes, of one hundred and of fifty pounds, first proposed to be given for literary compositions, are changed into two gold medals of fifty guineas each, to be adjudged annually to persons of eminent literary merit. The society consists of fellows and associates : of the last are two classes-royal associates and associates of the society; the former to be elected from among the latter. Ten of these associates are to receive one hundred a year each from the privy purse, and ten others a like sum from the funds of the society. There are also to be honorary associates. The persons elected as associates are to give testi

In the council of the Society, we believe, the Reverend Mr. Croly is the only one widely known as a literary character; and to that gentleman's merits as an author we are ardently disposed to bear testimony.

monials of good moral character, and to assist in the promotion of " truth, social order, and loyalty-loyalty in its genuine sense, not only of personal devotion to the sovereign, but of attachment to the laws and institutions of the country." Such is a brief exposé of the present structure of the society.

Some of the objects before enumerated, such as the publication of inedited works of ancient literature, the "reading interesting papers on history, &c." and a foreign correspondence for the "purpose of literary inquiry, &c." are unobjectionable things in themselves, and calculated in the aggregate rather to do good than harm; but it may be justly doubted whether individual industry has left any thing in these respects to be performed. The other designs of the society are more open to objection, and are not so well calculated to begin a memorable era in British literature as its founders expect, even if its achievements equal those which the celebrated Academy of France has accomplished for that nation. His Majesty's munificence and good intentions no one will feel inclined to dispute, but it may be justly a question whether their display would not have been more advantageous to the cause of literature, if the stipends had been conferred by royal selection, rather than through the intervention of any society however constituted. This mode would at least have afforded a guarantee for the impartial fulfilment of the royal wishes, and show that the cabals of a society did not interfere in the distribution. For notwithstanding any professions, and sincere professions, perhaps, of the founders of this society, it will inevitably, if it endure, become an instrument of party. All former societics have uniformly become so; and therefore, though they might have been advantageous in the dawn of a national literature, they are worse than useless, nay decidedly mischievous, when established during its meridian splendour, as is the case in the present instance. The Academy of France has uniformly been the corrupt tool of the government, and is deservedly sunk into disrepute. It injured the national literature by attempting to "fix a standard” in each department, by which all writers were to be circumscribed, at a time when, from the great names connected with it, its influence was all-powerful. It chilled the ardour of genius, cramped attempts at novelty, and endeavoured to crush writers that had the independence to contravene any of its arbitrary or pedantic enactments. One source of its power arose from the comparatively unenlightened era of its establishment and the celebrated men that were successively enrolled on its list, under a government which, till a recent period, suffered no independent feeling to exist among the people. In its best times it was a thing of feud, corruption, and abject servility; grovelling courtiers, bigoted priests, and vain nobles, being among its members. Thus its reputation was sustained on the shoulders of a few gifted individuals. It was the creature of despotism, that so well understands how to turn all similar institutions to its own aggrandise

ment.

But to return to the new Society, projected it may be with the most laudable intentions-is it at all probable, that in a nation like England, where letters have reached the proudest elevation, unsustained by caballing academies or royal donations, that at this moment literary men will bow the head to the dicta of any association whatever? Can it be supposed that in this most enlightened age, when independence

of every sort is in the highest estimation, writers will place themselves in abeyance from a body in which scarcely a name of celebrity in the national literature has appeared, feeling and knowing that public opinion can confer on them, without shackle or compromise of any kind, lasting reputation and pecuniary advantages adequate to their toils, and far greater than any society can offer? The very soul of a high literature is freedom, a freedom owning no authority but the tribunal of the whole nation. No academy in this country will be held in sufficient respect by the public to keep the power in its hands of bestowing eminence on an author by its plaudits, or of sending him into obscurity by its censures. His glorious independence of mind and pen, his obedience to the dictates of his conscience alone, and the pride of principle, render him very justly jealous of any set of men who would seek to extend their influence over his opinions, or make him the means of propagating theirs. It may be asserted as a truth, that the society in its corporate capacity will have no weight with the better class of English writers, let the political tenets of the latter be what they may. In an early announcement of its intentions, it was observed, that without royal protection "literature would continue neutral or adverse to the service of the country." Here was a pretty plain hint to authors what its advocates thought of our present literature, and hence may be inferred one of the main objects kept in view in its formation. But the literature of this country has attained its magnificence of growth without royal protection, or any other protection than its own irresistible claims afforded. Its professors nurtured it for ages, often amid penury and distress, until it reached a flourishing maturity and spread itself abroad-the admiration of the world, too firmly rooted to require the support of thrones, and too full of vitality to be withered by the insidious care of academies or societies. Is the noblest memento of Britain's glory so vile a thing, that it may be turned or twisted to the use of any faction possessing political power, as Tory, Whig, or Radical, might deem it "adverse to the service of the country?" Does it not look, after acknowledgements so put forth, as if it had been said by the society, "when British literature was emerging from obscurity, it might well be left to force its way in neglect, but now it is become a mighty instrument in governing mankind-now its glory is gone abroad into all corners of the earth, we must offer it our patronage, enlist it on our side, and finally endeavour to control it." But it is too late; no bonds will hold its giant limbs, no art confine its proud and towering spirit. It is no longer a suppliant, gazing on coronets and patrons for a haughty protection; but a laurelled victor, going" forth conquering and to conquer." Our literary genius, like our constitution, is essentially free, and, while it flourishes, must remain so. Our better class of writers will not enter a society, where unanimity cannot exist, and the future fate of which may be easily foreseen. Let us suppose Mr. feeling inclined to present an hexameter ode to the society, and to take his place among the associates, bringing his testimonials of learning, loyalty, good moral character, and public principle, in his hand; suppose these latter to be what the society may approve, how would they elect Mr., whose ideas as "to the promotion of truth, of social order, and loyalty,-loyalty in its genuine sense, not only of personal attachment to the sovereign, but of attachment to

the laws and institutions of the country," may be very widely different from those of the founder of Pantisocracy? Both of these writers would be most desirable members of such a body; but how can both be elected and the society preserve a unity of design, and amalgamate individuals so diametrically opposite in principle?

But, allowing the society to be at present unconnected with politics, it cannot long remain so; and shall we not, by and by, see it exert the same sort of influence that we have seen rule similar institutions, both in this and other countries-we certainly shall. It may safely be averred, that at no very distant period writers of the greatest learning and the most brilliant genius would fail of success, were they to be candidates for admission, not being of the political state party governing at the time. The experience of the past has uniformly shewn this to be the case, and it is natural it should be so where bishops and judges direct. But what have objects purely literary, to which such societies should be confined, to do with political opinions? Neither Milton, nor Marvel, nor Sidney, could be members of such a body; but Cibber and Settle might, What then becomes of the integrity of an institution, that, under the mask of supporting literature, is the concealed prop of a political party, and excludes from its advantages for causes which have no connexion with the ostensible object of its establishment. This having been uniformly the case in bodies similarly constituted, there must indeed be saving virtue, in the present society, if it be exempt from such mischief in a country where party runs so high. Other academies have been founded with as fair professions as the present, by those who have well understood the advantage of maintaining an ascendancy over literary men, of arranging them on their side of a question, and of using them as a shield in contests totally unconnected with literary matters. The very laws and rules of such societies have been generally pernicious to genius; being grounded on the theory of the schoolmen of past times and the pedantry of monkish colleges, they have proved uncongenial to that portion of literature which is truly generous, and would now only tend to retard that freedom of thought which is increasing from the wider dif fusion of knowledge, rendered permanent by the art of printing. A literary society, properly so called, should hold forth no qualification or disqualification as to members, but what was purely literary; yet the spirit of societies both of literature and art have never exhibited this Consistency. Raphael himself would suffer to-morrow the fate of Barry in the English Academy of Painting, were he a living member and equally imprudent in the use of an hasty expression;-but what mischief would such an exclusion do to Raphael in his art? his pencil would be as graceful as ever, and his Paintings as much admired. It is precisely the same in an Academy of Literature, that forgets its genuine object to display its impotent resentment for offences unconnected with its control. But the strenuous advocates of the society have said that the great object in view is to "render the pursuit of literature honourable in itself and beneficial in its results to society." And this it proposes to achieve by giving a hundred a year to twenty writers whom the society may judge entitled to the same! Men cannot be rendered more honourable by being made more dependent; this is not the way to attain the object, nor will any society in this country, however respectable in rank