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whole, be disposed to pass over this as a mere truism, neither admitting dispute, nor by any means requiring proof. Or if the meaning were only, that stratagem and artifice are a dangerous game, at which even masterly strokes often recoil, (especially on young beginners,) this also would be granted, as a correct and wise axiom. "Raise no more devils than you can lay," is a sensible admonition used north of the Tweed. But, on the contrary, we are explicitly given to understand that in the politics of this world (for it is always to sublunary affairs that such popular dicta relate) he that is honest will be most successful. Now I am far from entertaining any conviction, that more than one individual in a thousand by whom this opinion is gravely expressed, really believes his own assertions; it is a mere façon de parler, and therefore it may be said that contradiction here is superfluous, inasmuch as no bad effects can result from the dogma. This decision, however, is not quite satisfactory. If the doctrine be not often accredited and brought into practice, still it is so now and then; and its hazardous tendency ought therefore to be exposed. If only one individual in a thousand were so foolish as to believe it in downright earnest, I should wish, out of Christian charity, to put him on his guard, and assure him that with reference to his temporal interests in the voyage of life, the sooner he sets out on a new tack the better. Honesty is the best policy!" Here is a paradox with a vengeance! For, whatever may be the etymology of the word politics, I should be glad to know who in all the world ever attached to it any other practical meaning but that of a system by which intricate affairs are managed to the best advantage, a result which, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, is effected best of all by concealment of the truth, and by mystification? And what are we to understand by the word honesty? That one should not venture to steal his neighbour's purse, (however well stored it may be with sovereigns,) or to filch his diamond ring, his tureen ladle, or silver punch-bowl, is nearly a self-evident proposition, while, if demonstration be required, a perspective view of "Tyburn tree" will in most instances prove effectual. But to be honest involves of necessity the rare characteristics not only of adhering on all occasions to truth, but of holding in contempt and abhorrence all advantages, however important, which are to be gained only by subterfuge and chicane. Nay, the really honest man cannot even endure to cherish dark suspicions of another. If he is so unfortunate as to find cause for such apprehensions, he perhaps reproaches himself in the first place with being uncharitable; but neither to any third party, nor in soliloquy, can he bear to make accusations against his neighbour, which he would not utter boldly before the individual accused and before all the world. Caution and stratagem are with him out of the question; he will have nothing to do," not he indeed," with your dark lantern, your mantle and vizor; out bolts "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and onward he rushes to an éclaircissement. Tell him that his conduct is impolitic, he answers without a moment's hesitation, that " Honesty is the best policy, and this must be adhered to at all events;" no matter how many enemies he may thus excite against himself, or how many daggers may afterwards be raised against him in the dark! On no occasion whatever will he be persuaded, in words or deeds, to "go about the bush." Tell him that by turning to the left hand into a crooked path, instead of going straight-forward, he will be sure to arrive sooner at the goal of his ambition, and at the same time to find the road strewed with diamonds or guineas at the least, while, if he manages with sufficient caution, address, ingenuity, and secrecy, he may carry off all the treasure, and deposit it in his own coffers. This, without doubt, is a friendly and disinterested hint, but how is it received by the madman? (Surely the reader will soon agree with me that he deserves this appellation.) Why, forsooth, he frowns as if you had grossly insulted him, orders you perhaps to go to the devil, or asks how you dare come to him with a proposal so unpardonable as that of choosing a left-handed road when he can walk straight forward,-of practising address which in reality is

chicane, caution, which in plain English means deception,-ingenuity, which is another name for low cunning, and secrecy which is no better than falsehood,—a catalogue of enormities, all which he loathes and abominates. Is this picture overcharged? I maintain that it is not so, even in the slightest degree. However extraordinary it may appear, the conduct I have described is not more eccentric, than that which a really honest man so circumstanced must of necessity display. And will such conduct be successful, -will this indeed prove the best system of policy for our sublunary sphere? Oh, ye tribes of younger brothers! But softly;-neither time nor space is allowed me to make separate references to different classes. Far better were it to invoke at once the mighty world, the whole population of London, appealing to all classes, ages, sexes, and professions. Answer then,be for once in your lives honest, and declare with me una voce, that such a system will never do!-What! not unanimous? Still some dissentient votes? But no matter! The majority is so enormous, that the minority can scarcely be seen or heard; and whatever arguments they may have in reserve, I, for one, must retain my unshaken conviction that the system is altogether absurd! For behold,-at the moment you are telling your honest friend that he should turn to the left, and he is looking at you with scorn and indignation, another person comes up,-perhaps his most intimate acquaintance, in whose integrity he places the utmost reliance. This worthy gentleman overhears your discourse; verbum sapienti; the hint is not lost on him, and while you are vainly admonishing the wiseacre, his friend steps into the crooked road without scruple, gathers up all the riches wherewith it is strewn, and the next time he makes his appearance, it is on the top of a proud eminence, from which he looks down disdainfully on his old acquaintance, still toiling in his humble vocation, and comforting himself with the assurance that "Honesty is the best policy." Notwithstanding the comfort thus obtained, however, I would venture any bet that he cannot look with perfect nonchalance on the advantages thus gained over him. No; he will be apt to say, “ my friend Mountfort, Weatherall," (or whatever else the name may be)" has no doubt arrived at high distinction; but then, he turned to the left when he should have gone straight forward; he practised chicane under the name of address; deception under that of caution; low cunning and falsehood under the polite mask of secrecy and cleverness. Thus he reached his present elevated situation; but on such principles it was most unworthily obtained, for honesty is the best policy; in a short time he will be debased and degraded,―stripped of his borrowed or usurped plumes, which ought to be in possession of those who really deserve them!" Such are the opinions expressed by our honest friend, and to these he expects that the world will conform, consequently that his own conduct will be applauded, and that of his quondam friend looked upon with indignation. Admirable sagacity! You remind him perhaps that some ancient though still surviving personage, whom the world has always treated with great respect, acted in a way precisely similar, and therefore, but before you can finish the sentence, he cuts you short with another proverb, "Two blacks don't make a white," which in his wisdom he considers altogether infallible and incontrovertible; though the observations of every day in his life, if he were not hoodwinked, might furnish him with convincing proofs that this dictum, however unobjectionable in theory, is in practice by no means to be relied upon. Numberless are the opportunities afforded for demonstrating that two blacks can and actually do make a white, though no doubt three blacks are better for this purpose than two, four better than three, and so on progressively. What is of most importance, however, is, in the language of the colour-merchant, to consider the quality of the blacks which are to produce this remarkable change; if they are but sufficiently rich, the operation may in most instances be with certainty relied on; it hits to a nicety, like the cleverest experiment of Mr. Brande, in London, or Dr. Hope, in Edinburgh. But our friend is obstinate; it is useless to argue with him; for in spite of all that you can allege, he will persist in the even tenour of

his way, still toiling in the valley, while his former associate, with compassionate smiles, looks down upon him from the hill-top. In vain has he predicted that the ground on which Mr. Mountfort or Mr. Weatherall is placed, must prove brittle, and that such prosperity can endure but for a short time. In vain has he affirmed that the world will one day or another yield their unanimous support to his opinions, and so far from awarding Mr. their applause, will infallibly send him to Coventry. I am not prepared to say that this result is impossible, though the odds are fearlessly against its realization, for not above one in a thousand will sincerely entertain the distinctions which our friend insists upon. That ingenuity which he stigmatizes with the name of low cunning, will, if its object has been attained, still pass muster under the name of cleverness or distinguished talents; chicane, if successful, will still be admitted as "genteel address ;" while between secrecy and falsehood, there exists unquestionably a broad and exceedingly convenient line of demarcation. To a certain extent, no doubt, our friend's endeavours may not be without effect; he may prove that his quondam acquaintance did actually turn to the left, instead of going straight-forward, and so forth,-but meanwhile, his own station will be as humble as ever, and Mr. will in all probability keep his elevated rank merely by the same arts or artifices by which it was won. Every one for himself, and the devil for us all," is a principle so widely prevalent, an axiom so universally acknowledged, and illustrated by examples in the world, that the system of honesty, with its insignificant party of sincere votaries, has little or no chance. With regard to the query "Which proves the best in the long run?" I have nothing to do; for popular proverbs are not scripture texts; they apply only to "that which before us lies in daily life," to the management of affairs merely temporal,-to the driving of good bargains, and the formation of just conclusions on sublunary questions of intricacy and importance. This much may be granted in favour of the aphorism that "Honesty is the best policy:"-a simpleton had better adopt it bona fide, because if he proceeds on any other system, his contrivances and schemes will of course be defeated through his own incapacity. There is no dictum so absurd that it may not on some occasion or another hold good. H. M.

FROM THE ROMAIC.

A LITTLE bird sat on the bridge,
And sung in Ali's ear,

"O Ali Pacha! get thee gone,

What evil brought thee here?

For this is not Jannina,

Where the sparkling fountains fly,
Nor is that town Preveza

To build thee towers high.

"But Ali, this is Suli,

Renown'd both near and far,
Where women fight like heroes,
And children go to war;
Where Lampro's noble wife
Leads on his gallant band,

His infant at her breast,

And his sabre in her hand!"

G.

THE CHAPERON.

"New restals claim men's eyes, with the same praise
Of elegant et cætera, in fresh batches,

All matchless creatures, and yet bent on matches."

Don Juan, canto xii.

THE moralists of former times, influenced perhaps by the inexperience incidental to rude and imperfect civilization, were accustomed to attribute success in life very principally to certain qualities, on that account, called virtues. Courage, industry, perseverance, and economy in the men,-chastity, modesty, prudence, and domestic habits in the women, were regarded as the most probable elements of prosperity and happiness; and it was the object alike of parental vigilance and legislative foresight to provide for the developement of these useful dispositions. How far such a theory was correct, as it applied to the men, it is not now to my purpose to inquire; my business, at the present writing, being with the women. It would, indeed, be but idle dalliance with the reader to descant largely on the male branch of the subject, even if it came within the scope of this article; since examples abound within every man's reach, to illustrate the causes of masculine success. Can any one, for instance, look for a moment at the constitution of his Majesty's ministry (I like that epithet mightily, for one cannot, with any conscience, call them the people's ministry, and it is not good manners to designate them as the slaves of the Dukery)-it is impossible, I say, to look at his Majesty's ministry, and to contemplate the genius, knowledge, probity, disinterestedness, candour, and love of liberty of the men in power, without the justest appreciation of the sort of connexion that couples merit with advancement, in political life. Then, again, there is the bench of Bishops! "think of that, Master Brooke.' There, if you will, is a theme that might provoke an appetite for analysis; but though_the bishops do wear petticoats, and though they are accused by the Ŏ'Connels and the Shiels of a tendency towards anility in their modes of thinking, they are not women, (more is the pity, the Church owes a great deal to the ladies, and now-a-days, when it is, as we are told, in such danger, a St. Clair, or a St. Theresa on the bench, might be very profitable to that palladium of the British constitution). Although, therefore, I hate a Presbyterian, as an orthodox churchman should do, worse than poison," I must, for the present, take leave to set their Right Reverences on one side; and foregoing my inclination to dissert, proceed without farther digression to the theme of my more immediate speculation. The older moralists, somehow or other, had taken it into their wise heads that the possession of orderly habits, subdued temper, well-regulated affections, discretion, and divers other old-fashioned qualities, which it would be useless to name without an elaborate definition, so completely are they gone by and forgotten, was essential to female happiness-the one thing needful in securing to a woman a respectable station in society; and their whole scheme of education, and all their views, centred in the attainment of this one end. Now, though I freely admit that such qualities may sometimes have their use, if they be not too ostentatiously displayed to the world's gaze, yet are they, after all, but the Frenchman's ruffle without a shirt, the tragedy of Hamlet with the part of the Prince of Denmark omitted, by particular desire, or the balance of European power without our " an

cient ally," the Turk. The great point, the main lever upon which female fortunes turn, and about which these silly old twaddlers never gave themselves any trouble, is the manner in which a woman is brought out and produced to the world. Every body knows that more battles are lost in the ring, and more persons shot at Chalk Farm, by bad handling, than by any other assignable cause; and just so it is with the ladies. More girls are thrown away upon penny less blackguards by the fault of their chaperon, than by all the sentiment distilled through the Minerva press; and more virgins are left to pine in single blessedness by bad handling, than by the small-pox. Yet, neither Socrates, nor Seneca, nor Epictetus, nor Plutarch, have written one word de re chaperonica, nor offered a single apophthegm on the art of setting a girl off to advantage. Nothing can show the inferiority of the ancients on the subject of ethics more satisfactorily. The choice of a guardian may be important, the choice of a friend may be influential, the choice of a banker (in these ticklish times, when the currency is changed every session,) is not a matter of indifference; but all these together are but as a drop in the ocean, when compared to the choice of a chaperon.

To render this plain to the uninitiated, they should know, and it is a singular fact in the natural history of the species, that while all other animals arrive at maturity by a gradual developement, passing by slow and imperceptible steps from infancy to adolescence, the human female remains in a state of perfect childishness, fit only to be pent up within the four walls of a nursery, to the last moment of her pupilage; when suddenly, upon some given day, at an indefinite period between sixteen and three and twenty, it is agreed that she shall start into the full bloom of womanhood, and enter at once upon all the functions of a person of fashion, and a constituent of bon-ton society. Of all the climacteric periods of life, this is certainly the most critical, and accordingly, as it takes place under happy auspices, or is marred by injudicious management, the fortunes of the débutante will most probably be good or ill. At this epoch, therefore, her destinies are committed to the protection of a female mentor, termed a chaperon, whose office it is to produce her to the world, with all the pride, pomp, and circumstance, befitting her rank and expectations. A man's place in the red-book does not more immediately result from the manner of his birth and parentage, than that of a woman in the great world depends upon the manner of this her se-cond birth, or "bringing out ;" and woe to the girl who, on this occasion, falls into improper hands! Full many a flower is born to blush, not unseen, but to blush in the eyes of the assembled fashion of the country, for the faults which an unskilful or inactive chaperon has neglected to eradicate; and many a "mute inglorious" old maid bemoans her virginity in the country, who might have shone a bride and a countess, had she been handled with common dexterity at her bringing out. A young woman, at her entrance upon the world, may have all the virtues under the sun, yet, like that sun, they will be invisible to all London, if veiled from the public eye by the impenetrable fog of a stupid chaperon. She may dance like a Terpsichore in vain, if her chaperon knows not how to get her a partner. She may sing like a syren, if the chaperon knows not how to call out her talent with effect. She may have the

"Ancient ally!" Oh, John Bull, John Bull!" Ille sapit qui sic te utitur, omnia ferre si potes et debes."