Who hover round them as they glide
Down fashion's smooth deceitful tide,
And guard them o'er that stormy deep
Where dissipation's tempest sweep:
Oh, make this inexperienced pair
The objects of your tenderest care.
Preserve them from the languid eye,
The faded cheek, the long drawn sigh;
And let it be your constant aim
To keep the fair ones still the same :
Two sister hearts, unsullied, bright
As the first beam of lucid light,
That sparkled from the youthful sun,
When first his jocund race begun.

So when these hearts shall burst their shrine,
To wing their flight to realms divine,
They may to radient mansions rise
Pure as when first they left the skies.

NO. X.-SATURDAY, MAY 16, 1807.

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR.

The long interval which has elapsed since the publication of our last number, like many other remarkable events, has given rise to much conjecture and excited considerable solicitude. It is but a day or two since I heard a knowing young gentleman observe, that he suspected Salmagundi would be a nine days wonder, and had even prophesied that the ninth would be our last effort. But the age of prophecy, as well as that of chivalry, is past; and no reasonable man should now venture to foretell aught but what he is determined to bring about himself-he may then, if he please, monopolize prediction, and be honored as a prophet even in his ewn country.

Though I hold whether we write, or not write, to be none of the public's business, yet as I have just heard of the loss of three thousand votes at least to the Clintonians, I feel in a remarkable dulcet humor thereupon, and will give some account of the reasons which induced us to resume our useful

labors ;-or rather our amusements: for, if writing cost either of us a moment's labor, there is not a man but what would hang up his pen, to the great detriment of the world at large, and of our publisher in particular; who has actually bought himself a pair of trunk breeches, with the profits of our writings!!

He informs me that several persons having called last Saturday for No.X, took the disappointment so much to heart that he really apprehended some terrible catastrophe ; and one good-looking man, in particular, declared his intention of quitting the country if the work was not continued. Add to this, the town has grown quite melancholy in the last fortnight; and several young ladies have declared in my hearing that if another number did not make its appearance soon, they would be obliged to amuse themselves with teasing their beaux and making them miserable. Now I assure my readers there was no flattery in this, for they no more suspected me of being Launcelot Langstaff, than they suspect me of being the emperor of China, or the man in the moon.

I have also received several letters complaining of our indolent procrastination; and one of my correspondents assures me that a number of young gentlemen, who had not read a book through since

they left school, but who have taken a wonderful liking to our paper, will certainly relapse into their old habits unless we go on.

For the sake, therefore, of all these good people; and most especially for the satisfaction of the ladies, every one of whom we would love, if we possibly could, I have again wielded my pen with a most hearty determination to set the whole world to rights; to make cherubims and seraphs of all the fair ones of this enchanting town, and raise the spirits of the poor federalists, who, in truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever since the AmericanTicket met with the accident of being so unhappily thrown out.

TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ.

STR,

I felt myself hurt and offended by mr. Evergreen's terrible phillipic against modern music, in No. II. of your work, and was under serious appreliension that his strictures might bring the art, which I have the honor to profess, into con