and, snatching the wreath of fashion from the brow of presuming man,
have tortured it into such forms that, were it possible, which _certes_
it is not, to disguise a beauteous face----But to the high behest of
Fashion all must bow.

"Governed by this idol, our beau has a cuff that, for a modern fop,
would furnish fronts for a waistcoat, and a family fire-screen might be
made of his enormous bag. His bare and shrivelled neck has a close
resemblance to that of a half-starved greyhound; and his face, figure,
and air, form a fine contrast to the easy and degagee assurance of the
Grisette whom he addresses.

"The opposite figure, nearly as grotesque, though not quite so formal as
its companion, presses its left hand upon its breast, in the style of
protestation; and, eagerly contemplating the superabundant charms of a
beauty of Rubens's school, presents her with a pinch of comfort. Every
muscle, every line of his countenance, is acted upon by affectation and
grimace, and his queue bears some resemblance to an ear-trumpet.

"The total inattention of these three polite persons to the business of
the stage, which at this moment almost convulses the children of Nature
who are seated in the pit, is highly descriptive of that refined apathy
which characterises our people of fashion, and raises them above those
mean passions that agitate the groundlings.

"One gentleman, indeed, is as affectedly unaffected as a man of the
first world. By his saturnine cast of face, and contracted brow, he is
evidently a profound critic, and much too wise to laugh. He must
indisputably be a very great critic; for, like _Voltaire's
Poccocurante_, nothing can please him; and, while those around open
every avenue of their minds to mirth, and are willing to be delighted,
though they do not well know why, he analyses the drama by the laws of
Aristotle, and finding those laws are violated, determines that the
author ought to be hissed, instead of being applauded. This it is to be
so excellent a judge; this it is which gives a critic that exalted
gratification which can never be attained by the illiterate,--the
supreme power of pointing out faults, where others discern nothing but
beauties, and preserving a rigid inflexibility of muscle, while the
sides of the vulgar herd are shaking with laughter. These merry mortals,
thinking with Plato that it is no proof of a good stomach to nauseate
every aliment presented them, do not inquire too nicely into cause