STANZAS.

'That proud honor claimedAzarel as his right, a cherub tall;Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'dThe imperial ensign; which, full high advanced,Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind.At which the universal host up sentA shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyondFrighted the reign of chaos and old night.'

Now we solemnly protest, that we intend to subject no being, or beings, to the disadvantage of this comparison. By the whisperings of some spirit, good or evil, it came buzzing in our ear just as the previous sentence of sober prose was finished. Or rather, it was a contiguous phrase, which first intruded on our attention, and which readeth as follows:

'All in a moment through the gloom were seenTen thousand banners rise into the air,With orient colors waving. With them roseA forest huge of spears; and thronging helmsAppeared, and serried shields in thick array,Of depth immeasurable. Anon they moveIn perfect phalanx,' etc.

Nay, far be it from us so much to depreciate that individual, and the hosts which rose so soon at his bidding. Yet it cannot be denied, that, setting aside the place where this other scene was laid, and the class of beings engaged in it, there is some striking likeness between the two. In either case, there was a tremendous show of fight. Never, probably, were so many sinners driven from the error of their ways in so short a time, by mere dint of the impression of terror on their nerves. It is to be hoped they will stay driven; though we confess we want confidence in conversions effected in this rude way. Honestly, most conscientiously, we do not think it good for society, or for the church of God, in the long run, but positively bad. It cannot be long endured, before men see through it all, and the rëaction is sure, great, and fearful.

Thenceforward, after the introduction of these 'new measures,' very extraordinary indeed, the old way could no longer prosper. A new taste was formed, and forming, in the public mind. The appetite for excitement, which had been over-fed, became diseased, and its cravings unnatural. The theory of revivals had been greatly extended, or pushed to an extreme, which we hardly know how to describe; and the application of it overran the country in this new form. The religious pastors of the land, who have not been sent adrift by this flood, have maintained their ground with no little difficultyand peril. Through a very great portion of the leading sects this spirit has been rife; and probably not a single society could be found, that has not some sympathy with it.

As might have been expected, the end was not yet. Such an impetus of change must be followed with change. Although a prophecy of the stage we have just had under consideration, if it had been uttered ten years before it came upon us, as destined so soon, or ever, to transpire, would have been regarded as the effusion of a madman's brain, and utterly incredible, yet it speedily became stale; and the appetite which it created palled for something still more extravagant and outrageous. And lo! another genius appeared, out-Heroding Herod! The last extravagance assumed the aspect of sobriety in such comparison; and the very man who had introduced the former, if we have been rightly informed, and which we can easily believe, was shocked at the anomalies of the latter! Certainly the two great apostles have never worked in company, but have seemed to be looking at each other rather awry, as they have swept to and fro over the wide range of their several itinerancies. Not to follow the last, in the long and devious line of his labors, and over the far-reaching scope of his influence, the whole of which exhibits one uniform scene of devastation, as to all we are accustomed to regard most desirable and hopeful in religious society, it is enough that we point to the public enactments of Chatham-street Chapel, New-York, from day to day, and from week to week, in the winter and spring of 1837. Verily, if it be possible to render religion and all its sacred things more ridiculous; more the laughing stock of the vulgar and profane; more the contempt and scorn of infidelity, itself sowing and nourishing infidelity, it can only be some other equally unexpected and inconceivable development of the same class, which, if it must come, we pray heaven may be the last curse and blighting of our religious prospects.

Both these methods of procedure, which indeed are of the same class, differing only in degree, have been cried over the land by their leaders and advocates, who are not a few, as the way, and the only way, to convert the world. They are two other species of the religious charlatanry of our age and country.

God send prosperity to the Missionary cause, and establish it on the foundation of Christ and his Apostles! It is a part of our creed, that the Church of Christ is,ex se, a missionary institution; that this character is a radical and essential element of its organization; that it is a fundamental law; and that the appropriate motto of her banner is, 'Go ye, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' And it is no ungrateful thought, that at least one branch of the Christian Church of this country, has, by her own public and solemn acts, recognised this principle. We believe, moreover, that the missionary character of the Church, under the divine commission, is so comprehensive as to embrace every mode of action in the world for moral and religious reform, which is in any case a duty to undertake, at home or abroad, on the land or on the sea. The Church knows no home but heaven, and has no narrower field of earthly enterprise than the world. The only question of duty, at any given time, is:'Where, by what means, in what forms, and by what measures, in specific directions, she can most economically distribute her efforts for the speediest attainment of the grand and ultimate designs of Christianity?' What we call 'home,' in the narrowness of our feelings, is nothing to her, except that she commands and nourishes all the virtues that are appropriate to our limited capacities. Thus much for the declaration of our theory of the missionary work; and the deduction is obvious, that it belongs to the Church to supervise it in all its forms.

But the arrant religious propensity of our time and country, has seemed to us to be characterized by running races in this, that, and the other specific direction, just as the impulse may be given by some mountebank, or some obscure coterie of mountebanks, who may happen to have taken the start, and raised the cry of 'Onward!' And for the time being, the whole troop in the chase are on the same hobby, are completely absorbed in the same object, and would have all the world believe that if this can be gained, all is gained; if lost, all is lost. If their watch-word were to be universally heeded, every other interest of the Church would be abandoned. At one time, and with one class, Foreign Missions are the hobby, and take the lead; at another time, and with another class, Home Missions enjoy a like prëeminence; next, Bible Societies are every thing; at another time, Religious Tracts are going to save the world; Education Societies plead for their supremacy; then Temperance, and in its train, Tee-totalism; Sunday School Unions, too, must have their turn; next, Abolitionism turns men's brains, distracts the country, and shakes the social fabric; and though we might extend this list, indefinitely, we will just say, last not least, Moral Reform, technically so called, for decency's sake—the extravagance of all extravagances, the incredible of incredibles—seems to have more charms in proportion as it is more disgusting and abhorrent, and because, forsooth, it belongs to the class of things of which an apostle says, it is a shame to speak! None can deny that most of these, with others that might be named, are important objects for the combined action of the Church. Far be it from us to depreciate them. Our remonstrance lies against making any one, or any class of them, a hobby, to the detriment of others, as has been the fashion of the time.

And not only is there a propensity to run races of this kind, outstripping all propriety and reason, but the forms and principles of organization have often, if not generally, been no less the creatures of sudden and inconsiderate impulse. The result is, that the great and leading religious, and reforming enterprises of the country, claiming public patronage and support, are as effectually divorced from the Church, as the Church is from the State; as if the alliance were as dangerous, and the connection as unnatural. In their turn these particular forms become so much the objects of preference and idolatry, that the Church, as such, is thrown into the back ground, and forced to stand by, an idle spectator of the great work intrusted by her Divine Head to her guidance and control. Her powers and duties are usurped. A state of society has arisen, that would seem to be entirely at variance with the design of Christianity. It is the natural product of that spirit of innovation which is in part ourdesign to illustrate. It opens a door, and presents the strongest temptations—temptations which we think will prove irresistible—to make a trade of trickery on a scale commensurate with the influence that is acquired; and for the rëenactment of many painful scenes, which have been a thousand times told in the history of the Church. Tricks are already apparent in the operation of this species of machinery; it is extensively based upon tricks; it could not last a year, nor go an inch, without them.

Who would have imagined, that the public mind of this country could be brought to endure, and extensively to patronize, as an engine of benevolence and Christian enterprise, such a loathsome and demoralizing institution as the Moral Reform Society? And yet their agents can go over the land, and form auxiliaries, particularly among the ladies! any where and every where. Pray tell us, if any body be so wise, what causes have been in operation to produce such a state of things. Let us not be ignorant, that these matters are connected with a general state of society, and grow out of it. Of this there can be no question. A scheme so gross, so offensive to decency, so absolutely vile, can be palmed upon the community, and baptized as immaculate! And so immaculate, that it can live and walk in the midst of pollution, without being defiled! As was to be expected, it has given birth to a new theory in morals, and now stands based and erect upon it, viz: that the way to be pure, is to give virtue the stern test of familiarity with impurity; that 'vice to be hated needs but to be seen,' keeping back the sequence of the poet, and jumping to the opposite conclusion, that the more it is seen, the better; that the most shocking features and horrid scenes of midnight debauchery can be exposed, without a veil, to the public eye, with impunity; that it ought to be a part of common and universal education; that the sexes can sit and talk together of these matters, without sin, and without peril! Let any one consult the weekly journal of this society, if we dare recommend such a task—for they have a journal, and apparently a prosperous one—and he will be astonished at its doctrines; at the confidence with which they are announced and defended; and at the reports of success coming in from all parts of the land. He will hear them affirm, that they only are radical reformers; that the fate of society depends on them; that they go to the bottom of corruption. That they go to the bottom, we believe; that they come out pure, is another question. That their specific is a cure-all, we happen to know is the common proclamation of all such charlatanry.

The doings of this society are an instructive lesson. The disclosures which they are in the habit of making, operate as a temptation to the very crimes thus laid open to the public eye, and are likely to conduct multitudes to ruin, who never would have dreamed of such scenes, except as they have been brought to view by such unfortunate and guilty instrumentality. On this subject, certainly, ignorance is innocence; knowledge is death. The warm blood of youth, and the irradicable passions of our nature, cannot be addressed by these features of vice, without sympathy and peril. The only way of safety, is to keep such topics for ever out of mind; in diversion; in useful and innocent occupations.

Sickof the crowd, the toil, the strife,Sweet Nature, how I turn to thee!Seeking for renovated life,By brawling brook and shady tree.

II.

I knew thy rocks had spells of old,To change the wanderer's wo to calm;And, in thy waters, clear and cold,My heated brow would seek its balm.

III.

I bent beneath thy ancient oak,I sought for slumber in its shade,And, as the clouds above me broke,I dream'd to win the boon I pray'd.

IV.

For light, a blessed light, was given,Far streaming round me from above;And in the deep, deep vaults of heaven,I saw a smile of peace and love.

And through the long, long summer hours,When every bird was on his wing,I sought, among thy thousand flow'rs,Renewal of life's secret spring;

VI.

That sacred freshness of the heart,That made youth's tide flow smooth and strong,When, yet untaught by shame or art,We feared no guile, and felt no wrong.

VII.

My soul grew young in early dreams,And 'gainst the passing time I strove,Most glad to yield all human schemes,For one pure, boyish hour of love.

VIII.

And who but Nature's self could yieldThe boon I sought, the prayer I made—Throned in her realm of wood and field,Of rocky realm and haunted shade?

IX.

Who but that magic Queen, whose swayDrives Winter from his path of strife;While all her thousand fingers play,With bud and bird, in games of life?

To her I turn'd—yet turn'd in vain;A hopeless discontent I bear;I snap, at each remove, some chain,Yet never snap the chain I wear!

XI.

Yet if the wizard be—whose pow'rMay set my heart and passions free,And still restore youth's perish'd flow'r,And hope's gay season—thou art she.[3]

XII.

A kindred life with these I ask—Not beauty, not the scent we seek;But in thy sunshine let me bask,My heart as glowing as my cheek.

XIII.

An idle heart, that would not heedThe chiding voice of duty come,To take the soul, new-nerved and freed,Back to close task and gloomy room.

XIV.

Thou, Nature, that magician be!Give me the old-time peace—the joyThat warmed my heart, and made me free,A wild, but not a wayward boy.

XV.

And I will bless thee with a song,As fond as hers—that idle bird—That sings above me all day long,As if she knew I watch'd and heard.

W. Gilmore Simms.

FROM ROUGH NOTES OF A VISIT TO ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, AND GERMANY.

NUMBER FOUR.

Notwithstandingthe flattering invitation from Mr. G——, (of the agreeable party I had the honor and pleasure of joining in the Highland tour,) business called me speedily to London, and I therefore took berth in the 'Caledonia' steamer, and reluctantly bade adieu to my hospitable friends, and to

'Edina! Scotia's darling seat,With all her palaces and towers.'

The London steam-packets sail from New-Haven, one of the sea-ports of Edinburgh. They are very large, and are built and rigged like ships; with a fine dining-cabin on deck,overthat of the berths. The fare from Edinburgh to London, (about five hundred miles by water,) is three pounds, meals included; and they make the passage in from forty-two to fifty hours. A good library in the cabin served to relieve the tediousness of the trip; and I found, on reference, that I had visited or passed over many of the scenes described in the Waverly Novels; and what a gallery of pictures do those works exhibit! They are too familiar, however, to needany reference. One of the principal charms of Scott's fictions, as has been often remarked, is the accuracy and truth to nature, both of his landscapes and his characters. He studiedsceneryandlocalities, in the course of his frequent excursions, as well as individual traits; and as he has himself told us, he had an original in his eye for most of his apparently imaginary portraits.

As we sail along the coast, we have a distant view of several remarkable places. Preston-Pans, where the chevalier and his highlanders routed the royal army, under Sir John Cope; Dunbar, and its castle; Dunglass Castle; Berwick-upon-Tweed, near the 'Border;' Lindisfame, or Holy Island, which figures in 'Marmion;' Flodden Field lies a few miles from the coast; and Alnwick and Warkworth Castles,

'Home of the Percy's high-born race,'

are but a few miles from the Border, on the English side. Carlisle and its famous castle, and Gretna-Green, are more in the interior. The finest small views of Scottish scenery may be found in 'Caledonia Illustrated,' now publishing, edited by Dr. Beattie.

On board our steam-ship, I was amused at the speculations of my neighbors at the table, respecting a person at the other end of it, whom they finally pronounced a yankee, from the sure evidence of his chewing tobacco. They never suspected me, it seems, for one of the barbarians, and looked rather blank, when I spoke to him as a fellow countryman. He was a pretty considerable thorough-bred down-easter; and it was not strange that John Bull detected him.

* * * We landed at the East India docks, five or six miles from St. Paul's, and considering myself pretty well informed in the law, and not easily to be cheated, I hired a hack, without saying a word as to the price, and had the pleasure of being forced to pay five times the lawful fare, because, forsooth, the law did not extend down the river, and moreover, it was aglass coach.

* * *The University of Oxford, which has existed since the year 886, comprises no less than twenty-one different colleges, each distinct and independent, with a president and faculty; but united in a sort of federal compact, and governed by a Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor, the latter being the acting and responsible officer. The Duke of Wellington, as you well know, at present fills the Chancellor's chair. The college buildings are nearly all of the Tudor style of architecture, and most of them, indeed, were erected in the reigns of Henry VII. and VIII., and of Elizabeth; and they bear now a stately and venerable aspect. They are in the quadrangular form, covering two or three acres, with a large area in the centre. Several of them front on High-street, which is considered one of the most imposing in Europe.

I had no letters to Oxford; and my kind reception by Mr. and Mrs. T——, with only a self-introduction, gave me a most favorable impression of English hospitality. They freely invited me to their house, and took pains to show me every thing of interest. On Sunday I attended their church, which boasts no little antiquity, havingbeen founded by Alfred the Great, in the eighth century. Its style of architecture is of course Anglo-Saxon.

In the afternoon, I went with Mr. T—— to the beautiful chapel of Magdalen college, to hear thechanting, which is performed by a choir of boys, in the most perfect and touching manner. It was much the most beautiful, and, as I thought,appropriate, church music I had ever heard. The effect can scarcely be imagined by one who has only heard the Episcopal chants in our churches. In this chapel is a painting by Carlo Dolci, valued at eleven thousand guineas! Addison was educated at Magdalen college; and his favorite walk, on the banks of the Isis, is yet called 'Addison's Walk.' Gibbon, whose stately style is so strongly in contrast with the classic ease and purity of the 'Spectator,' took his degree here, also. The 'crack' college, in size, wealth, the extent of its library, and gallery of paintings, and the aristocracy of its members, isChrist Church. Most of its graduates are sons of the nobility, and the higher classes; but yet it was in this college I was shown the room occupied by Dr. Johnson, who was certainly a plebeian, albeit an inveterate tory.

But I will not inflict on you a prosing account of this renowned University, or a catalogue of her sons; are they not all written in books? I must say a word or two, howbeit, of the two biglibraries; for, as friendHarpersays, 'that is somewhat in my line.' The Radcliffe library is in a circular building, with a huge dome, and an elegant interior. It contains, beside its one hundred and fifty thousand volumes, a fine collection of casts and busts, such as the Laöcoon, Apollo Belvidere, Warwick Vase, etc. TheBodleianis still more extensive. It has three hundred thousand volumes, and a large picture-gallery, with many noble paintings, and models of ancient temples. These immense repositories of literary treasures, and gems of art, are alone well worth a visit to Oxford. But I could not help thinking, that the world would not be much the wiser for a greater part of these books. It strikes us practical yankees, that books were made for use, rather than to fill up long shelves, to be looked at only on the outside, and the mass of them never to be opened, even by the 'favored few.' Among theraritieswhich they, show here, are an Ethiopic MS. version of the Book of Enoch, recently brought from Africa, and Queen Elizabeth's Latin exercise-book, in her own hand-writing. Connected with the Bodleian, is a hall of ancient sculpture, containing about eighty statues, which have been brought from Greece and Italy. Near by, are kept the celebrated Arundelian marbles; and here I saw the original Parian Chronicle, made two hundred and sixty-four years before Christ! and of course now somewhat illegible. This chronicle, you know, was an important authority in ancient chronology. I must not forget the 'Theatre,' an edifice not for dramatic performances, but the college anniversaries, which we call 'commencements.' This extensive hall is elegantly decorated, and well contrived for a large audience. It was here that the Emperors of Russia and Austria, etc., were pompously received, when they visited England, in 1815. The connoisseur in paintings will find ample entertainment inOxford; and if you come here, especially do not omit seeing the altar-piece in All-Soul's chapel, a most exquisite 'Magdalen,' with an expression of countenance I can never forget. A few miles from Oxford, is the splendid palace and park of Blenheim, given by the nation to the great Duke of Marlborough, for his military services.

Warwick Castle.—It were as well, perhaps, for me to say nothing of these places which a thousand and one tourists have already made familiar to you. As to this; Kenilworth, Stratford-on-Avon, and indeed the European tour, I know the subject has been pretty well used up, and scribblers must now be content to tell an old story as best they may. I might tell you how I went down to this famous castle, and knocked at the porter's lodge, and how he took me within it, to see the walking-stick of Guy, Earl of Warwick, nine feet high, and his 'porridge-pot' of iron, which would contain half a barrel!—how he sent me up a long circular path-way, cut through a solid rock, to the castle itself; how I marvelled at its vastness, and passed under the towers into the area; how I wandered about, bewildered with the number of entrances to the huge pile, on all sides, but finally ventured one, and got into a chapel, without being challenged; how they took me through a range of gorgeous apartments, extending three hundred and thirty-three feet in a line, on only one side of the castle; and all the princely furniture, the tables of inlaid brass and precious stones; the rare paintings and sculpture which fill these halls; the antique armory, cut out of the thickness of the castle walls; the earl's family, and how naughty he is; and sundry other matters, may be buried in oblivion. You are aware that this is much the finest, perhaps theonlyone remaining entire, of the old English baronial castles. Its walls have been standing eight hundred years; and yet they seem imperishable. A novice like myself is 'taken aback' with the grandeur of these lordly abodes.

Thechange of the scene to the ruins ofKenilworth, in the course of an hour, naturally led to instructive recollections of the past. Here was once a castle as extensive and impregnable as the one we had just left; but now the lofty towers are fast falling to decay; and the sheep are grazing in peace and quiet, where once all the magnificence of the Elizabethan age was concentrated. I passed the same portal that admitted the great Eliza and her train, when she came to honor the princely entertainments of her favorite Leicester. The ruins are extremely picturesque; and they prove that the castle was of prodigious extent. They forcibly remind one that

'The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Shall, like an unsubstantial pageant faded,Or like the baseless fabric of a vision,Leave not a rack behind.'

Well—like all dutiful travellers, I of course added my name to the list of illustrious pilgrims in the Album at Stratford-on-Avon. The birth-place and the tomb of Shakspeare! Who would go to England, and pass them by without a visit? What a host of grandissimos, beside the multitude of humbler gentry, have deigned to worship at this intellectual shrine!—or, in other words, to follow the old cicerone up those narrow back stairs to the lowly apartment where the Bard of Nature was cradled, and there to scribble their names on the rude walls, or in the goodly quarto. There I saw the autographs of 'William Henry, Duke of Clarence,' 'Walter Scott,' 'Countess Guicciolli,' 'Coleridge,' 'Charles Lamb,' and scores of similar names, beside an army from the United States. I copied some of the many inscriptions in the 'Ollapod' of an album, which you may like to have:

'Of mighty Shakspeare's birth, the room we see,That where he died, in vain to find, we try;Useless the search; for all immortal He,And they who are immortal, never die.

Washington Irving.'

'Shakspeare! Thy named rever'd is no less,By us, who oftenreckon, sometimesguess;Though England claims the glory of thy birth,None more appreciate thy page's worth,Nor more admire thy scenes well acted o'er,Than we of 'states unborn' in ancient lore.

James H. Hackett.'

The esteemed and lamentedCarter:

'1825, Nov. 18.N. H. Carter, }H. J. Eckford.}

'Think not, Britannia, all the tears are thine,Which flow, a tribute to this hallowed shrine;Pilgrims from every land shall hither come,And fondly linger round the poet's tomb.'

Not being 'wise above what is written,' I shall spare you a rhapsody of my own on the occasion. To tell the truth, as ill-luck would have it, I could not get up a fit of enthusiasm. I was not inspired even by theimpressivelittle sign which is poked out over the door, and tells the heedless urchin of Stratford, as well as the eager pilgrim from foreign climes, that

'The immortalShakspeareWas born in this house.'

And then to be bowed up stairs and down,

'For only 'sixpence sterling!''

'T was cheap, to be sure; but there was something droll in the idea. Of course, I spent half a crown beside, for seeing the tomb in the church, which, by-the-way, is a fine old edifice of its kind; and mine host has also shown me,gratis, the mulberry tree in his garden, which was planted by the great bard himself. They are going to have a 'grand jubilee' here, shortly; and an oration is to be deliveredby somebody whose name I have forgotten; but as he styles himselfthe'American Tragedian,' you will know, I suppose, to whom this title belongs.[4]

London in May.—The 'fashionable season' is now in its prime. Parliament is sitting, and every body is in town. How strangely they arrange, or rather dis-arrange, the order of nature, here in England! Come to town in May, for the winter season, and go into the country in December, to spend Christmas! Yes, if you wish to see London in all its glory, come here in the blooming month of May. The queen of cities then puts on her gayest attire, and all her thousand attractions and amusements are ready to draw on your purse. First, if you likepaintings, there is the Royal Academy exhibition in Somerset House, which, by the way, is soon to be removed to a part of the New National Gallery at Charing-Cross, which is now nearly completed, and is to receive the collection of old masters belonging to the nation, which have been exhibiting in Pall-Mall. Then there is the Society of British Artists, in the latter street, and two Societies of Painters, in water-colors; all of whose exhibitions are crowded with fashionables. They seem to pay special attention to this water-color department, and the present collections are really brilliant. In books, sculpture, natural curiosities, etc., there is that immense repository, the British Museum, freely open to all visitors. The Benevolent Society Anniversaries take place, this month, at Exeter Hall; and there is always a great musical treat at St. Paul's for the charity children, and also for the sons of the clergy. Speaking of music, I was thriftless enough to go to Exeter Hall, last evening, to the great musical festival, where six hundred performers, beside the organ and big drum, concerted together a 'concord of sweet sounds.' I wonder what a Connecticut singing-master, fortified, with a pine pitch-pipe and a 'Musica Sacra,' would have said to it! The Duchess of Kent and the Princess Victoria were to be there; and when they appeared in the front gallery-seat, the whole audience rose, and gave them three cheers, which were, of course, 'graciously acknowledged' by their highnesses, with sundry bows. The Princess is now seventeen, very unnecessarily pretty, and dresses with a neatness and simplicity which would be a pattern for New-York belles. She looks intelligent and dignified, without affectation, and is, no doubt, well educated, and highly accomplished. She is evidently the darling of the people, and, I hope, deservedly so; but she must be averyfine girl, if she can wear all her honors, and sip all the flattery which is paid to her, and yet not be spoiled. Her mother, the Duchess, seemed to be a restless, bustling sort of person, and I set her down as being, at least, no more than a woman.

Among the singers, Philips stands highest. He has a rich and highly-cultivated bass voice. He sang some fine airs in Balfé's new opera of 'The Maid of Artois,' a few weeks after this. In this, Ihad the good fortune to hear that wonderful vocalist,Malibran. Those who saw her when she visited New-York, some years since, would scarcely recognise the present brilliant tones, and great compass of her voice, so much has it improved: and not only does she astonish and delight you, by such singing as you never heard before, but her manners and acting are equally extraordinary and fascinating. She is rather small and short in figure, and her face, though not handsome, is peculiarly expressive and intelligent. I saw her several times in this opera, and also in 'La Somnambula,' and Beethoven's opera of Fidelio, which is herchef d'œuvre.

The only female vocalist who is named in the same breath with Malibran, isJulia Grisi, of the Italian Opera. Grisi is tall, very pretty, and lady-like, sings sweetly, and is evidently a great favorite. The queen attended her benefit the other evening, beside many a 'bright particular star.' I had a good chance to stare at her majesty, who is tall and slim, and looks very like a queen. The popular feeling seems to have changed in her favor; and I heard her styled 'an excellent and exemplary woman.' I saw her a few days since, with the king, riding out to Windsor, after the levee at St. James' Palace. But to the singers.

La Blache, a portly, good-looking personage, has the most tremendous bass voice I ever heard. Tamburini and Rubini are the tenors. The King's Theatre, or Opera-House, is one of the most extensive and elegant, certainly the most expensive, in Europe. * * *

I have had the good luck to hearBraham, too, who yet looks youthful, although now about sixty, and whose singing seems as much prized as ever. But time fails me to tell you of Liston, Macready, Charles Matthews, Jr., and other lions of the day, who figure where the Siddons and Garricks have 'held the mirror up to nature.'

Wehave passed a leisure hour in finding out some of the antiquities and literary curiosities of the metropolis; such as Boar's Head Tavern, (Mrs. Quickly's), where Falstaff, Poins, and 'Hal' called for their cups of sack. In Buckingham-street, near us, is the house where Peter the Great lodged, when in London. 43 Lombard-street was the residence of Jane Shore. In the Old Bailey, Jonathan Wild and Oliver Goldsmith lodged. Chapter Coffee-House, where Dr. Johnson and his coterie frequented, is yet the resort of penny-a-liners and newspaper-readers. In Bolt Court, Fleet-street, we saw the literary leviathan's residence, and we found also those of Byron, Blackstone, Cowley, Hogarth, Pope, Lord Bacon, Garrick, Gibbon, Handel, Hans Holbein, Hume, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir Thomas Lawrence, West, Sheridan, Sterne, Spenser, etc.

York Minster.—I did not repent varying my route a little to visit the ancient city of York, and its noble cathedral, unquestionably the finest Gothic structure in Great Britain, if not in the world. This grand edifice is five hundred and twenty-four feet in length, and, of course, exceeds St. Paul's on this score; but in other respects, theycan scarcely be compared, as the style of architecture is entirely different. It stands in bold relief above all the rest of the town, albeit not on a rising ground. To use the words of the book, it is like 'a mountain starting out of a plain, and thus attracting all the attention of the spectator. The petty, humble dwellings of men appear to crouch at its feet, while its own vastness and beauty impress the observer with awe and sublimity.' It dates its origin as far back as A. D. 642;[5]but the present walls seem to have been erected in the thirteenth or fourteenth century. The screen and the choir, particularly, are elaborate and exquisite specimens of the Gothic style. It seems strange to us, who make the most of ourroom, that they should only use so small a portion of these cathedrals for what one would suppose was their chief purpose—divine worship. Service can only be held in what is called the 'choir,' an enclosure near the centre of the church, which has seats for perhaps from one hundred to two hundred persons. I went in, during the evening prayers, and had an opportunity of hearing the gigantic organ, accompanied by the choir, in some fine anthems. The whole of the east wing of the cathedral was fired in 1829, by Martin, the lunatic, who secreted himself behind the organ, during service, and so thoroughly effected his purpose, that the whole interior, including the choir, was destroyed. The great painted glass window, seventy-five feet by thirty-two, (capable of admitting a large three-story house,) was saved as if by miracle. It is remarkable, that the whole of this wing has been restored, so precisely in the original form, as scarcely to be suspected for a modern work. The architect was Robert Smirke, Esq. It is asserted, by the knowing ones, that a work of equal magnitude to York Cathedral could not be performed, at the present day, for ten millions of dollars, nor in less time than fifty or even a hundred years.

House of Lords.—There is no admittance for plebeians to this 'august assembly,' without a written order from a peer; but we were not to be daunted on this wise. We wrote a billet to some of the great 'uns, as follows:

'To His Grace the Duke of Wellington:'My Lord Duke: The undersigned, a stranger from the United States, presumes to solicit your Grace's permission to visit the House of Lords this evening.'I am, my Lord Duke,'Your Grace's Humble Servant,—— ——.'

'To His Grace the Duke of Wellington:

'My Lord Duke: The undersigned, a stranger from the United States, presumes to solicit your Grace's permission to visit the House of Lords this evening.

'I am, my Lord Duke,

'Your Grace's Humble Servant,—— ——.'

This circular was addressed also to the Duke of Buccleugh, Viscount Melbourne, Marquis of Londonderry, etc., for the Lords; and to O'Connell, Hume, Spring Rice, and Sergeant Talfourd, for the Commons. To insure success, I took a cab, and called on their graces and lordships in person. At Whitehall-Gardens, the powdered and gold-laced footman, gracefully bowing for a sixpence 'to drink myhealth,' presented me with a note, neatly sealed with the duke's arms, which purported thus:

'The Duke of Buccleugh presents his compliments to Mr. ——, and has the honor to enclose an order for the House of Lords.'

* * * This for my friend. Now to the premier's for myself. The viscount's house is certainly not more ostentatious than his neighbors.

'On business?' asked the porter, as I presented my 'little affair.'

'Yes,' said I, stoutly.

'Then you must take it to the office, in Downing-street. His lordship transacts no business at home.'

'Oh! it isprivatebusiness—veryspecial, and requires animmediateanswer,' returned I, remembering the advantage of an air of consequence, with these 'gentlemen's gentlemen.'

The official disappeared, and soon brought me a roughly-folded note, addressed in true great men's hieroglyphics:

'—— ——Esq.,'18 Norfolk-street, Strand.''Melbourne.'

'—— ——Esq.,

'18 Norfolk-street, Strand.'

'Melbourne.'

It enclosed the order. Next, to Apsley House: 'The duke will send an answer.' To Piccadilly: 'The Marquis not in town.' To Cavendish-Square: 'The duke will be at home shortly; an answer at two o'clock.' To Langham-Place: Answer written on back of request:

'Finding Mr. —— is not a resident of aslave-holding state, Mr. O'Connell has the honor to comply with his request.''Admit the bearer to the gallery.'Daniel O'Connell.'

'Finding Mr. —— is not a resident of aslave-holding state, Mr. O'Connell has the honor to comply with his request.'

'Admit the bearer to the gallery.'

Daniel O'Connell.'

To Guildhall: Mr. Talfourd, the author of 'Ion,' to whom I had a letter, is in court, examining a witness. Asked the constable to give him my note, when he was disengaged; but he pushed inside, before judge and jury, thinking I had something touching the case in hand. Luckily the sergeant was busy, and I escaped. A brace of orders came from him in season, so I supplied my friends; for no member can give an order for more than one person at a time.

We went to the House of Lords at five P. M. The room is about the same size as that of the Commons, but looks, of course, a little more 'genteel.' The throne is a large arm-chair, under a crimson canopy, not particularly splendid. The members' seats are elevated on each side, and covered with red moreen. The 'ministerial bench' is in front, near the woolsack and the bishops; and their party (at present whigs) all sit on the same side, while the opposition, or tories, occupy the other, facing their opponents. Inthishouse, the tories, orconservatives, of course predominate. The members were in plain citizen's dress, except the bishops, the chancellor, and the clerks, who all wear a black gown and big wigs. When we entered, a witness was being examined in an election-bribery case: Presently the house was called to order, and the chancellor (Lord Cottenham) took his seat on thewoolsack, which is nothing more than a good-sized red ottoman. An ordinary-looking man, who it appearedwas the Earl of Wicklow, then rose, and made a studied speech, in which there were far more words than ideas, against appropriations for a charity-school in Ireland, which he alleged was under Catholic influence. Some one at the door announced, 'My luds! a message from the House of Commons!' and on each repetition of this, the chancellor, poor man, had to leave his seat and come down the hall with a bag, which they call thepurse, to receive the 'message.' One of the prelates (the Bishop of Exeter) rose and supported the Earl of Wicklow's motion; and then presented petitions from manufacturing districts, praying for interference in behalf of the children employed in factories, who were often required to work twenty hours out of the twenty-four, and were otherwise ill-treated. The bishop made some remarkable statements in the course of his appeal, which was manly and sensible; and I observed Melbourne, the minister, who is a full-sized, elderly man, leave his seat and whisper somebody, and then return with a point-blank contradiction to one of the bishop's assertions, which of course produced a rejoinder.

When I re-visited the house on the 17th, the Marquis of Londonderry had the floor. My object was to see Wellington. 'Pray is he here?' 'Yes; don't you see his nose?' Ah, there's no mistaking the duke. There he sits, between the dandy-exquisite-moustached-tory-Duke of Cumberland (the king's brother) and Lord Lyndhurst, the intellectual giant of the house, the ablest peer of them all, and the best orator, perhaps the only orator, among them. 'He is an extraordinary man, that,' said my neighbor. 'No doubt,' thought I. 'His father was a native of our own Boston.' 'That tall man, with a short neck, and black hair, is Lord Ellenborough, and he in the rear, the Earl of Devon, all tories—'birds of a feather.' 'Brougham is not here; he appears to have retired of late from public life. But hush! The duke is going to speak! Lo! the great captain, who is at once two dukes, (Spanish and English,) a prince, (of Belgium,) two marquisses, three generals, a 'field-marshal, four or five ex-premiers, knight of the garter, Chancellor of the University of Oxford, Constable of the Tower, and filling I know not how many other stations; the conqueror of Napoleon; the commander of three great armies; the leader at the ball of Brussels, when

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