too great an admirer of beauty to fall in love with even a Minerva, marked by the small-pox, yet I could never be captivated by personal attractions, unless brightened by intellect and vivified by soul: I should as soon think of kneeling to one of Guido's hours, or pining away for the Venus de' Medici.

I am ashamed to say that I found myself anticipating with malicious satisfaction the time when my haughty beauty will become a slighted old maid. There are bright eyes enough in the world which will look kindly on their admirers, and plenty of lovely lips that will at least chatter good-natured nonsense; and unless twenty thousand golden charms contribute their powerful influence, a proud or dull goddess will not find adorers for more than an evening, will meet with only eye-worship, and see no hearts laid upon her altar. Then when the freshness of youth begins to disappear, and its bloom to fade, when newer faces attract, and partners for even a quadrille are valuable possessions, the beauty of thirty sickens for past homage, and would fain begin to be condescending and agreeable; but alas! disappointment sours the temper, adds premature wrinkles and unnecessary gray hairs, years creep on, rouge and pink ribbons cannot retard their progress, forty will arrive at last, and bring a "single blessedness," which good-humour does not sweeten, nor intellect or usefulness ennoble.

Such were my reflections on my first partner, as I stood squeezed up in the refreshment-room, hot and thirsty, longing for ices and Roman punch, for lemonade and negus, but debarred by the intervention of fifty ladies from obtaining my desires.

My second compagnon de danse was a very different person. She was just pretty enough not to be plain, had a smart figuré, and a turned-up nose, of which she appeared to be proud; for she contrived to give it more than natural elevation by a frequent jerk of the head. She was fashionably dressed, that is, she Tooked as if one of our great grandmother's pictures had stepped out of its frame. The scanty arrangement of hair on the forehead, the mass of corkscrew-curls falling in gradual profusion from the temples, the long waist, wide sash, and pointed stomacher, all reminded me of days of yore, and made me expect to see a full-blown rose in the lady's hand, or a lap-dog with a gilt collar at her feet. She seized every moment she could gain for conversation, or I should rather say for talking, and "talking is not always to converse." Heavens! how many things she said while we were at supper! I remember that among other subjects she touched upon the following: Belzoni, Adam, men's hats, the Spanish constitution, the radicals, handsome men, architecture, Venetian beads, Lord Byron, romance, artificial flowers, Brussels lace, Roman pearl, young Grimaldi, the Bible Society, old china, the North Pole, and pine-apple ice, &c. &c.

To be sure, she did not say any thing very new or very wise upon these topics; she did not comprehend the nature of half of them; ran one into another in a most extraordinary manner, and talked so rapidly that I could with difficulty follow the variegated thread of her discourse.

"Have you seen Belzoni? I long to go; but there is such a crowd. I hope there a'n't many mummies, they are so shocking, it makes one quite shudder. I should like to see Belzoni himself; he must be very interesting. He is so tall. I like tall men" (casting a glance at my figure, fortunately above six feet). "I am sure men were meant to be

much taller than they are. I am quite certain Adam was ten feet high. How tall he must look in his hat." (I suppose she meant Belzoni, not Adam.) "La! how they stuff the hats now! They put a padding in to make them sit on one side. How I did laugh when I saw Captain Shaw's! I thought I should have died. It becomes him very much though, for he is very handsome; but how much better he would look in a Spanish hat and feathers; I wish they were worn in this country, and short satin cloaks and daggers-they are so interesting. What a fuss the Spaniards are making now; they want to have our constitution, and the King won't let them. Oh! I know all about it, for Papa talks about it every morning at breakfast. Papa is so against the radicals: so am I; I can't bear Mr. Hobhouse. I like handsome men," (a glance at me) "though plain men are often very agreeable. Person is nothing, manners are every thing. I'm sure I never know whether men are plain or handsome. I saw such a handsome man in Waterloo-street this morning; I can't think who he was. Don't you admire Waterloostreet? I like it all but the chapel; I can't bear the chapel, there is such an ugly thing on the top. Architects shouldn't invent such new fancies; they should go abroad and study the models of antiquity. Were you ever in Italy? I should like to go to Venice; it must be so interesting to sail about in a gondola. They say those little beads they make the purses of come from Venice; I can't think how they make them, they are so small. I wonder if Lord Byron will ever come home. How interesting he is! La! what a swimmer he is; only think of his swimming over the Hellespont, which is ten or twelve miles broad, in imitation of some great hero. Oh no; I remember it was some lover of the name of Hero who swam across to see his mistress. How romantic! I like romantic people. Are you romantic? I am very, very romantic indeed. I often stand out in our balcony by moonlight. Captain Shaw does quiz me so about it: he says I'm in love; but I'm sure I'm no such thing."

In this manner, with a great deal of real folly, and I suspect a little affected simplicity, my fair chatterer ran on, much to my amusement, perfectly satisfied with herself, and I believe kindly disposed towards a partner, who, though neither handsome nor in Spanish costume, was yet six feet high, and a patient lis

tener to her rattle.

When I parted from her I walked about for some time, and

did not join in another quadrille, till the rooms were sufficiently cleared to admit of comfortable dancing. I heard many scraps of conversation during my lonely wanderings, for lonely I was, according to a very beautiful definition of solitude, since there was not one among all who surrounded me, who,

"If I were not, would seem to smile the less."

There were sad complaints about the heat and the crowding, mingled with languid declarations that it was a most delightful party, and doleful lamentations over the necessity of going to several others the same night; yet it appeared to me that there was something either of pleasure or of pride in the tone in which these double or triple engagements were related.

"I must go to Lady R.'s to-night, cannot escape showing myself for ten minutes. Thank you, I am sorry to say my husband is still very unwell. Dr. Maton saw him this morning, and says he must be kept quiet. You'll come to me on Tuesday? Oh! he'll be well by that time, I hope; besides he won't hear much of the music in his room when the doors are shut. I'm quite surprised to see Mrs. Thompson here to-night. Her son has not been dead three weeks. Such want of feeling is detestable."

"How do you do, Mrs. Marten? How well Miss Marten looks tonight. I declare I believe she is rouged, and her eyes are so brilliant." "Ah! I told her coming out would do her good. She was very ill all the morning, but I made her come with me. Her spirits want raising; that cough is only nervous. She's a strange creature, and dislikes gaiety, but she's only seventeen, and these whims will wear off."

"Oh yes, my niece, Charlotte Sinclair, was just the same; would only go out twice a week, and never on a Sunday, and all that nonsense; but her mother, my sister, a very sensible woman, soon cured her; she made her go out every where one season, then took her to Bath, Brighton, and Cheltenham, and she came back so improved, quite a different creature, and now she's never easy at home."

My next partner was what is called a beautiful dancer; her dress was a little shorter than fashion warranted, and I suspect she had given fifteen shillings for her shoes. Her feet moved as if by clockwork, and executed the most astonishing little manœuvres, always stopped and began at the identical moment, always ended in the very acmè of the fifth position, and seemed as if the purpose of their creation had never been fulfilled till, decked in white satin slippers they were allowed to figure in a quadrille.

Honours bring inconveniencies; fame produces the necessity of continued exertion: my present partner proved the truth of these maxims, and was evidently labouring for reputation, not dancing for pleasure. She never spoke a word, and appeared annoyed when I addressed her; her whole attention was given to her employment; and although her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and panting bosom proved that she was hot and tired, yet.

she would not allow herself even the innocent relaxation of walking a demi queue de chat, or shortening the length of a balance. When the exhibition was over, I supposed I should hear the tone of her voice; but she could only throw herself into a chair, where she continued in a flaming, fanning, panting state for many minutes, while I, in a most orthodox manner, took my seat by her side, and patiently waited her pleasure. When she had recovered, however, instead of paying her old partner any attention, she seemed totally engrossed by the desire for a new one, and continued in a state of visible anxiety till she was assured she should be permitted to produce another fit of fatigue and exhaustion. Then honouring me with a bow and a smile, she hurried away to secure a place in another quadrille, seized, as if by acknowledged right, the situation of prima donna, and seemed impatiently to wait the re-commencement of her glorious labours.

The lady to whom I was next introduced might once have been agreeable, and would, perhaps, have continued so to the end of her life, but for a most unfortunate occurrence which took place last summer, an occurrence which I am sure all her acquaintance must bitterly deplore. She spent six weeks in France; and I should suppose, from her conversation, that she will never again know a happy moment in England. She would talk of nothing else. If I observed that the evening was warm, she replied," almost as warm as at a ball I was at last year in Paris" if I proposed to open a window, she asked if it was a French sash; if I blew my nose she talked of French cambrics; and every one in the room, upon whom I made a remark, was a plain likeness of one of her Parisian acquaintance. Indeed, all her powers of admiration were left on the other side of the channel, or confined to articles imported from thence. I am not speaking of her preference for French silks, French gloves, Leghorn bonnets, and Mechlin lace: these possess a place in every woman's affections, a corner in her heart from which neither duty nor humanity can drive them, where they effectually resist the attacks of law, and the pleadings of patriotism. Doubtless the ladies are in the right; doubtless it is folly to think of our own starving manufacturers, or to suppose that the crimes and miseries produced by smuggling are at all attributable to those who purchase contraband goods: French silks must, be worn, though every gown should cost a life; and as to Mechlin-lace veils, they are worth a world in ruins. All this is natural and usual; and to those who blame the gentle sex for doing all the little in their power to ruin their country, I can only say that we are every one of us subject to imperfections, and that

"She that has none, and lives as angels do,

Must be an angel-but what's that to you?"

My present partner's Gallic tastes far exceeded these ordinary limits. To her there was nothing beautiful in English scenery, or English architecture; for her, English musicians played, and English actors toiled in vain; London ice did not cool her tongue, nor London cookery please her palate; no watch went well, no gown sat well that was not of Parisian make; every Frenchman was agreeable, every French woman naive, piquante, or spirituelle; and there was in the air and manners of them all a je ne sais quoi, which surpassed description and baffled praise. French literature was not forgotten: "Mathilde" was the prettiest novel ever written; she started in angry amazement when I preferred Shakspeare to Racine, and I suppose would have been equally indignant could she have heard my opinion of the "Henriade." However, as I had no wish to irritate her, I avoided all unnecessary contradiction, and I believe she did not think me more disagreeable than the rest of my fellow-countrymen. We parted tolerable friends, and I suppose I shall soon hear that she has turned Atheist or Roman Catholic, in compliment to the land of her love, or eloped with a French valet or an exhibitor of dancing-dogs.

Tired and feverish I returned home, saw the first beautiful streaks of coming day, and with parched lips, aching temples, and burning eyes, retired to my bed, and obtained a few hours of restless and unrefreshing sleep. I saw gay forms confusedly moving before me, heard again the tones of the music, and was troubled by many wild and ridiculous dreams. First I saw a high stage, on which those elegant females who frequent fairs were exhibiting their dancing powers; among them, one poor panting girl, urged to continued exertion by the application of a long whip, was apparently in danger of breaking a bloodvessel; indignant, I rushed forward to stop the barbarous strokes of her tormentor, when suddenly I recognised the features of one of my partners; but before I could speak to her, I found myself transported to a wood, the trees of which were covered with an astonishing number of magpies, who, some one informed me, had just been electing a queen. I was introduced to her chattering majesty, and thought that the tones of her voice were familiar to me, when suddenly, as I was about to commence a conversation, some one blew the French horn so long and so loudly in my ear, that, distracted by the noise, I awoke.

I arose with heavy eye-lids, and brains unfit for study, and resolved to give myself the relaxation of a visit to my family, and to enjoy the first bright days of summer, where alone summer can be really enjoyed, in the country. My journey afforded no incident worth relating; my travelling companions differed little in their leading characteristics from all the others