--Moore.

~10~~Tremble not, ye fair daughters of chastity! frown not, ye
moralists! as your eyes rest upon the significant title to our chapter,
lest we should sacrifice to curiosity the blush of virtue. We are
painters of real life in all its varieties, but our colouring shall
not be over-charged, or our characters out of keeping. The glare of
profligacy shall be softened down or so neutralized as not to offend the
most delicate feelings. In sketching the reigning beauties of the time,
we shall endeavour to indulge the lovers of variety without sacrificing
the fair fame of individuals, or attempting to make vice respectable.
Pleasure is our pursuit, but we are accompanied up the flowery ascent
by Contemplation and Reflection, two monitors that shrink back, like
sensitive plants, as the thorns press upon them through the ambrosial
beds of new-blown roses. In our record of the daughters of Pleasure, we
shall only notice those who are distinguished as _belles of ton--stars_
of the first magnitude in the hemisphere of Fashion; and of these the
reader may say, with one or two exceptions, they "come like shadows,
so depart." We would rather excite sympathy and pity for the
~11~~unfortunate, than by detailing all we know produce the opposite
feelings of obloquy and detestation.

"Unhappy sex! when beauty is your snare,
Exposed to trials, made too frail to bear."

Then, oh! ye daughters of celestial Virtue, point not the scoffing
glance at these, her truant children, as ye pass them by--but pity, and
afford them a gleam of cheerful hope: so shall ye merit the protection
of Him whose chief attribute is charity and universal benevolence. And
ye, lords of the creation! commiserate their misfortunes, which owe
their origin to the baseness of the seducer, and the natural depravity
of your own sex.

LADIES OF DISTINCTION,

"DANS LE PARTERRE DES IMPURES."

"Simplex sigillum veri."

"Nought is there under heav'n's wide hollowness
That moves more dear, compassion of the mind,
Than beauty brought t' unworthy wretchedness."

~12~~If ever there was a fellow formed by nature to captivate
and conquer the heart of lovely woman, it is that arch-looking,
light-hearted Apollo, Horace Eglantine, with his soul-enlivening
conversational talents, his scraps of poetry, and puns, and fashionable
anecdote; his chivalrous form and noble carriage, joined to a
mirth-ins