lles of New York whose charms of person and graces of mind
would make the present reader regret his tardy advent into this world,
did not the "Admonitory Epistles," addressed to the same sex, remind
him that the manners of seventy years ago left much to be desired. In
respect of the habit of swearing, "Simeon" advises "Myra" that if ladies
were to confine themselves to a single round oath, it would be quite
sufficient; and he objects, when he is at the public table, to the
conduct of his neighbor who carelessly took up "Simeon's" fork and used
it as a toothpick. All this, no doubt, passed for wit in the beginning
of the century. Punning, broad satire, exaggerated compliment, verse
which has love for its theme and the "sweet bird of Venus" for its
object, an affectation of gallantry and of ennui, with anecdotes
of distinguished visitors, out of which the screaming fun has quite
evaporated, make up the staple of these faded mementos of an ancient
watering-place. Yet how much superior is our comedy of to-day? The
beauty and the charms of the women of two generations ago exist only
in tradition; perhaps we should give to the wit of that time equal
admiration if none of it had been preserved.

Irving, notwithstanding the success of "Salmagundi," did not immediately
devote himself to literature, nor seem to regard his achievements in
it as anything more than aids to social distinction. He was then, as
always, greatly influenced by his surroundings. These were unfavorable
to literary pursuits. Politics was the attractive field for preferment
and distinction; and it is more than probable that, even after the
success of the Knickerbocker history, he would have drifted through
life; half lawyer and half placeman, if the associations and stimulus of
an old civilization, in his second European residence, had not fired his
ambition. Like most young lawyers with little law and less clients, he
began to dabble in local politics. The experiment was not much to his
taste, and the association and work demanded, at that time, of a ward
politician soon disgusted him. "We have toiled through the purgatory
of an election," he writes to the fair Republican, Miss Fairlie, who
rejoiced in the defeat he and the Federals had sustained.

"What makes me the more outrageous is, that I got fairly drawn into the
vortex, and before the third day was expired, I was as deep in mud and
politics as ever a moderate gentleman would wish to be; and I drank be