THE AUTHOR'S JEWEL, NUMBER V. COURTSHIP. Charming and charmed, can Love from Love retire? SAVAGE. When I was a young man, it was the custom, then generally followed, in cases of love, for the young gentleman, or old bachelor, as he might be, to make his advances to the lady; who, whether naturally gifted with modesty, or disposed to forwardness, was sure to appear shy and retiring, till after the wed. ding had taken place. Time, however, it seems, changes all things; customs, as well as persons; and as the opinion now prevails, that we are every day advancing nearer to perfection; the revolution in courtship, which in my eyes, now wears features of degeneracy, must be classed among other improve. ments, as one step towards an infallible preventive for the wretched lot of solitary maidenhood. It is now about five and thirty years, since I first made my modest bow, with a blushing cheek, and a palpitating heart, to my poor deceased wife, Rebec ca. Let me in passing, drop a tear to her memory, for in truth, she was a kind, loving and worthy soul, though somewhat inclined to jealousy, and ́excess of snuff Well! To proceed with my narrative. Rebecca was then but seventeen! She was as lovely as the fresh and opening rose-bud, whose beauties sparkling in the morning's dewy rays still retains a hidden lustre to unveil, when it shall fully disclose its charms in the noon tide sun. Rebecca was handsom; her eyes were a melting blue; her hair, a brilliant chesnut colour; her complexion as pellucid as the stream, and white and red mingled in her cheeks with exact and beautiful rivalry, their perfect tints. Her person, rather under the common stature, was admirably adapted to the high, flaunting head-dress of that time. Her bosom, compressed slightly by her stays, rose into modest view, half veiled beneath a transparent gauze handkerchief; but her person, inimitable in its symmetry and grace, was enviously concealed by her large hoops.-Yet take her as she was, and not as she seemed, a better wife, or a more seductive maid, never blessed a man, or inspired a poet. When I first addressed her, it seemed as if she wished to sink, or vanish, from my glance through the floor, so coy and timid was my Rebecca. She blushed, she trembled; her eyes were rivetted to the ground; her fan was shut and opened a hundred times, in beautiful confusion. The first interview, did not even procure me one syllable At the second, she barely returned my salutation; and it was many, many months, before she allowed herself the priviledge of general conversation with me. Year after year, I pressed my suit in vain, with all the fervour of impatient passion; and it was not till after five winters had shed their snows, that she agreed to become my wife. Ah! that time has flown, never to revisit me, but in fancy, or in visions, fraught with recollections and regrets, equally painful, pleasing, and intense! Such in times long past, was virgin coyness! But where shall we now seek for this divine attribute, this halo that ever encircles the mind of chastity? I am now the neighbour of an old lady, who is doatingly fond of a son, who possesses neither attractions of mind nor person calculated to excite esteem or love; and yet is the darling object of pas sion, to a young woman of fashion and fortune, who pays her addresses to him; thus completely reversing the good old customs of the country. The young man appears to be rather of a weakly constitution; which has led his mother to neglect his education, to the utter ruin of a mind, naturally impotent and sluggish. It may probably be owing to this, that the shyness of his disposition is quite feminine, and more adapted to the Lady than her lover Weakness, which seems one of the natural causes of modesty, must have bestowed this appropriate attribute of the softer sex, upon the young gentleman in question. It is certain that he was never seen to speak to a woman in his life, till Sophia, the young lady who courts him, followed him one Sunday morning from church, and contriving to meet him unobserved, proposed a walk to the sweet banks of the Schuylkill! The gentleman hesitated, blushed, looked round to see if they were unobserved, and eventually complied with the invitation of the seductive fair one. As I am now what every body calls an old fellow, I can observe the progress of their courtship from my window, while smoking my pipe, without being suspected; nay, they heed me not, even when I draw my chair to the front door, in the cool of the morning or evening, to waft away my cares in a whiff or two. The young man never ventures out, till the Lady calls for him; or passing his window, gives him the beck of love; which he coyly, and sluggishly obeys They then seek the banks of Schuylkill's love inspiring stream, where no doubt, the youth puts off some of his bashfulness, and the maiden as. sumes-less than she feels. How often have I felt something like a feeling of Envy rising in my breast, at the assidious love of Sophia for this uncourteous knight; who never even steps to meet her; nor thinks of waiting on her home; or greeting her presence with a kiss or a salutation. No sooner has the earliest beam, dispelled the chilling vapours of the night, than Sophia ap. pears blooming in anxious love before his window. If he is not risen, she paces the street, till he awakes, and finds all her toils repaid, when she beholds him creep forth, 1ubbing his half sealed eyes, and yawning in all the lassitude of incurable and frigid lazi. ness. A morning walk, may sharpen love, as well as improve the appetite; and the rambling Lovers doubtless enjoy the twofold benefit, without being conscious of more than one blessing While this absurd and revolting scene of folly and shyness on the one part, and immodest passion, on the other, is continually passing, it cannot be sup |