allotted by the regolatrice. Their assemblies continue during the winter, and are held in a magnificent suit of apartments. The amusements are conversazione" from ten to midnight, then an "opericciola" or petit opera Italien, for which there are a beautiful miniature stage, boxes richly ornamented, and a good company of Italian performers, To the opera succeeds a ball, which continues long after "the laborious hammer" begins to sound. The noble dancers are refreshed by all the delicacies which the season can afford. Masquerades are sometimes introduced, and one is announced for the twentieth of this month, for which nonsubscribers, who are admitted to the sanctuary, by special favour, are to pay two guineas, exclusive of other disbursements amounting to as much more.

Of all the fashionable rendezvous, with which London abounds, or which any metropolis can furnish, picture-galleries as they are constituted here, appear to me best fitted for refined social intercourse. During the gay months there are various public expositions of painting of which that of the Royal Academy is the chief; where the artists of the English school submit their labours annually to public inspection. The price of admission is one shilling, so that all classes enter, but every pretender to the ton, finds it necessary, to honour the academy with one visit at least. The beau monde is however compensated for this "evil communication" by exhibitions of the same nature, at the houses of the nobility, where the specimens of art are much superior, and the spectators more select. The principle collections are those of the marquis of Strafford, earl Grosvenor and Mr. Hope; once a week and on different days, their splendid mansions are thrown open to such as have procured tickets of admission from the hand of the owners, by means of a personal acquaintance, or upon the recommendation of their friends. You are not qualified for the daily topics of polite conversation unless you are familiar with the names at least of some of the most celebrated paintings of Cleaveland or Grosvenor-house. Here, then, impelled by

the prevailing rage, and attracted by each other, assemble all the great personages of both sexes in their best morning attire, to rove through numerous saloons, to loll no rich sofas, to talk over their engagements, to admire the damask, gilding, cornices and pillars, and to learn what are the principal Titians, Corregios, Guidos and Van Ostades that enoble the collection. From twelve until five you can be thus engaged, in familiar and instructive discourse, with the leading amateurs and artists of the nation, in studying the manners and physiognomy of high life, in contemplating the master pieces of the pencil and the chisel. These morning attroupemens have every advantage. They require no sacrifice of repose; no unavoidable fatigue, no irksome punctilio. There is no pressure, no squeeze no forced delay, nor any of that weariness of spirit

which accompanies the vigils of fashion. They at once, gratify your vanity, polish your manners and improve your taste.

By means of an introduction from our countryman West the painter, I have free access to all the private collections, and have inspected them with much attention. Although somewhat of a connoisseur in these matters I shall not attempt to detail their contents at this moment, they are reserved for a separate dissertation, with which I now and then beguile a lesiure moment. It will be enough to remark, that the collections of the noble lords abovementioned, are valued at sixty thousand guineas.

Public concerts are literally innumerable at this season of the year. The general price of admission is half a guinea-every night madame Catalini, Mrs. Billington and all the most celebrated of the corps of Euterpe, are to be heard at one or other of the great rooms. One would imagine, in reading the advertisements of a London newspaper, that England was the Arcadia of modern times, and that the goddess of Music had abandoned her votaries on the shores of the Tyber, to fix her temple on the banks of the Thames. Notwithstanding these appearances, I believe it can be said with truth, that there is no people, taken collectively, more negligent of the culture, or more insensible to the charms of the lyre. Fashion fills all the concert rooms, and enriches a tribe of foreign singers most of whom would starve anywhere else. To hear the "gens de condition" talk of a concert, would lead you to suppose that they were all "cognoscenti" and "dilettanti" of the most tremulous sensibility; to see and hear them at it, satsifies you, that Nature's laws are not to be reversed, and that whatever may be the sorcery of gold, it cannot impart taste or infuse sentiment, although it may bring Cecilia down from heaven with all "her mingled world of sound" and attract to one centre all the richest melodies of the universe. Madam Catalani has one hundred guineas a night for private parties, and is actually in the receipt of fifteen thousand pounds per annum derived from her vocal labours.

Balls, although not so frequent as routs, are numerous, and never commence until midnight. The two most splendid of the season, were given by Mrs. Hope and the countess of Shaftesbury. The former, belong. ing to a mercantile family is not, therefore, much considered in the higher circles, and bears among them the nickname of Gala Hope, on account. of the magnificence of her entertainments. The countess of Shaftesbury had, on her supper-table two hundred pine-apples estimated at three guineas each! Who would not exclaim with Thomson against "the gay licentious proud," and wish, that Luxury and Wretchedness might exchange habitations for a moment.

The ladies of the ton frequently "see masks," as the phrase is, from eleven until four in the morning. There are generally from five hun

dred to a thousand persons assembled on these occasions, and sometimes characters are well supported, but for the most part, masquerades are exceedingly dull and stupid, and far from corresponding to the description given of them in newspapers and novels. In every country, they bear the same character, and I rejoice to hear, that an attempt, recently made, to introduce them among us has completely failed.

At this season, the theatres, which are four in number, display all their allurements, but are altogether frequented by the secondary classes, the first having the avocations I have enumerated above. The grand opera and Vauxhall are the public amusements most in vogue. The boxes of the former are all hired for the season, and the pit, therefore, becomes the resort of the loungers and opulent strangers. The entertainment consists of an Italian serious or comic opera, with no other good voice than that of Catalini and a ballet, of which the dancers must be even wonderful to those, who have never witnessed similar exhibitions abroad. Vauxhall is unrivalled and transcends all description. The talisman of the genii never effected more than human art has done here. The dinner parties of this country are to a young stranger, the most pleasing and instructive branch of their social intercourse. Every man of fortune sees company in this way, about once a week. It is the only species of" good fellowship" which the merchant tolerates in his house; routs and balls being unknown to his domestic economy. His wife must be content with public amusements, and now and then a city-ball. The manners of the commerical body have undergone but little change since the era of the Spectator, who has most faithfully delineated them. You have a week's notice for dinner, and sit down to table about half past six in full dress. Three courses and a desert, with the best French and Portuguese wines, constitute the repast for the palate. The livery-servants are always numerous. You challenge your neighbour to a glass of wine, but never drink a health or a toast"in good company." The hosts serve at each end of the table but in every other respect, appear like strangers. There is no visible solicitude to please; and as in France, this polite nonchalance is carred to an extent, which would almost affront a stranger, unapprized of their habitudes. I must confess that we are much behind hand in the style of our dinners. To emulate the refinement of this form of European hospitality would require more wealth than our noblesse enjoy; yet with their present means, they could advance many steps. Foreigners, who have been among us, extol the warm sincerity of our welcome, but amuse themselves at the expense of our cramming system.

I have already in a long letter to our, informed you of my introduction at court. Mrs. P. was presented at the same time on the nomination of her husband as minister plenipotentiary, and in point of

dress and demeanor, acquitted herself in the most satisfactory manner. The fourth of June, the birthday of the king, is the great occasion on which the court unfolds all its pageantry, and the nobility vie in the splendor of their dresses and equipages. There is nothing awful in the ceremony.

Some days ago, I witnessed a public spectacle which I must mention, because nowhere else on the face of the earth is there one, in my estimation, more edifying or perhaps more sublime. I allude to an annual congregation in Saint Paul's church of all the children supported and educated by the national bounty, residing within ten miles of the metropolis. In the area under the dome of this vast monument, was an amphitheatre formed by nearly six thousand boys and girls, habited in particular uniforms, and seated on benches rising above each other in regular gradation. All were neat and clean, with their badges of distinction, and so distributed as to give the most picturesque effect to the whole. The aisle or body of the church was filled with spectators, similarly arranged, and from some points of view, the eye embraced the entire multitude. Divine service was performed, and a chorus occasionally raised by the united voices of these adopted children of the capital, assisted by Mrs. Billington and others. It seemed to me, in contemplating what was before me, that this nation was alone entitled to claim the virtue of charity which redeems so many faults and may be said to supply all deficiencies. This picture of the munificence of the capital seemed alone to compensate for the follies and vices of which I have offered you a faint outline. There was a moral grandeur in the scene more imposing and majestic than the sublime architecture and gigantic dimensions of the vast temple in which it was exhibited. Other nations have surpassed this in their works of art, in the magnificence of their public monuments, in the luxury and miracles of their genius: but if admiration be properly due to the best moral and political institutions, to the virtues of humanity, to independance of mind and generosity of heart England is far above them, in the scale of excellence.

To pay one visit, at least, to London is the ambition of all who can in any way contrive to obtain the pecuniary means of so doing. I have been struck with the phraseology of even the most distant inhabitants of the country, when speaking of the metropolis. They call it the town, by preeminence, and in the remote extremities of the island, they ask you, if you have come from TOWN, no matter what number of cities may intervene. It is indeed wonderful, for the extent of its population, the symmetrical elegance of its streets, and the conveniences with which it abounds; but still, London, if I may use the expression, is much too prosaid; every thing in it is addressed to the senses, nothing

to the imagination. In Paris a cultivated mind is incessantly recreated with classical images; the forms of antiquity meet your eye everywhere even in the fashion of a chair and a table; you are everywhere sensible of the predominance of taste, a power not easily defined, but of great and unquestionable influence over the pleasures of fancy. The gallery and saloons of the Louvre, which all the lower classes visit, and the number of statues and busts that crowd all the public walks, have given them a knowledge of the heathen mythology quite astonishing to a stranger. In all the small towns and villages of this country, particularly in Wales, from a principle which I cannot well understand, they have selected the yards as the public walk.

I must indulge in another remark applicable to all great capitals, of the truth of which every American who resides in them must be particularly sensible. In consequence, perhaps, of the late hours adopted, and of the multitude and variety of objects surrounding you, the flight of time appears infinitely more rapid than with us or in any small town. The day in the former is like the hour in the other, and is gone, before you are fully resolved how to employ it. I am told by those who are much in the fashionable world, that to them the progress of life is altogether imperceptible. This is not happiness, although it might wear that appearance, it is only enjoying the lapse of time, as you do the succession of space in riding full speed. If there be any sources of gratification either within or without existence should be measured by time; the mind should be able to collect itself, to pause at intervals to economize its means.

To me, my dear, every object abroad wants a charm which would give it double interest and which my imagination cannot supply. I mean the presence of those to whom I could freely communicate all my impressions; whose joys are all doubled, whose griefs are all halved, who are rendered confident and independent, by their union and identity as it were, of feeling. I never see a family assembled in a box at the theatre, at table, or in a public walk, without feeling the superiority of their condition and envying their happiness. If Providence will permit the same pleasures shall crown the wishes of your, &c. &c.