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Mr. Irving tells us in a quaintly written preface, that, ll of thunder rattled among the high houses of the narrow
I streets. He came to the Place de Greve, the square where being laid up by indisposition in Mentz, and finding it
public executions are performed. The lightning quivered impossible to read books with pleasure, he set about |
about the pinnacles of the ancient Hotel de Ville, and writing them. These volumes are the product. They shed flickering beams over the open space in front. As are a collection of tales divided into four parts. The Wolfgang was crossing the square, he shrunk back with two first will occupy the present notice. The others
horror at finding himself close by the guillotine. It was the
height of the reign of terror, when this dreadful instru. are decidedly the best divisions, and those we must
ment of death stood ever ready, and its scaffold was contipostpone until next week. He opens with a set of || nually running with the blood of the virtuous and the stories told by the same person who related the tale of brave. It had that very day been actively employed in the “ The Stout Gentleman," in Bracebridge Hall.
Thev // work of carnage, and there it stood in grim array amidst a
|| silent and sleeping city, waiting for fresh victims... originate at a hunting dinner, at which the guests are “ Woligang's heart sickened within him, and he was kept by a storm, and they beguile the time with ghost || turning shuddering from the horrible engine, when he bestories. The description of the dinner, and the man- | held a shadowy form cowering as it were at the foot of the ners of the guests, is like those in Bracebridge Hall, ll flashes of lightning revealed it more distinctly. It was a
Il steps which led up to the scaffold. A succession of vivid and therefore with all their smartness, wholly unlike || female figure dressed in black. She was seated on one of anything which has existed in England within these the lower steps of the scattold, leaning forward, her face hid hundred years. The first tale, « The Adventure of my in her lap, and her long dishevelled tresses banging to the
ground, streaming with the rain which fell in torrents. Uncle," is founded on an incident supposed to have
Wolfgang paused. There was something awful in this solihappened at the chateau of a French Marquis, where “My
tary monument of woe. The female had the appearance of Uncle" imagines that he sees a ghust, and in the being above the common order. He knew the times to be morning relates the story to the Marquis :
full of vicissitude, and that many a fair head, which had
once been pillowed on down, now wandered houseless. " My uncle went on gravely, however, and related the
Perhaps this was some poor mourner whom the dreadful whole circumstance. The Marquis beard him through with |
axe had rendered desolate, and who sat bere heart-broken profound attention, holding his snuft-box unopened in his
on the strand of existence, from which all that was dear to hand. When the story was finished, he tapped on the lid
her bad been launched into eternity. of his box deliberately, took a long, sonorous pinch of
“ He approached, and addressed her in the accents of snufr
sympathy. She raised her head and gazed wildly at him. "Bah!' said the Marquis, and walked towards the other
What was his astonishment at beholding, by the bright
glare of the lightning, the very face which had haunted him end of the gallery.“ Here the narrator paused. The company waited for
in his dreams. It was pale and disconsolate, but ravishingly
beautiful. some time for him to resume his narration, but he continued silent.
“ Trembling with violent conflicting emotions, Wolfgang 6 • Well,' said the inquisitive gentleman—and what did
again accosted her. He spoke something of herbeing exposed your uncle say then ?
at such an hour of the night, and to the fury of such a storm, 66 Nothing,' replied the other.
and offöred to conduct her to her friends. She pointed to 6And what did the Marquis say further?'
the guillotine with a gesture of dreadful signification. " • Nothing.'
". I have no friend on earth,' said she. 66. And is that all ?
66 But you have a home,' said Wolfgang. " . That is all,' said the narrator, filling a glass of||
Yes-in the grave!' wine.''
“ The heart of the student melted at the words.” The whole merit of this consists in the working up
He persuades her to allow him to lead her to his own of a few materials so as to excite high expectation, and I apartment as a place of shelter :then to disappoint it at once. The next story of “ My || The perplexity now commenced with the student how Aunt" is of ihe same sort, where the supernatural inci- || to dispose of the helpless being thus thrown upon his prodent turns out to be the scheme of a housebreaker who || tection. He thought of abandoning his chamber to her, and conceals himself behind a picture, and frightens the
seeking shelter for himself elsewhere. Still he was so fasci
nated by her charms, there seemed to be such a spell upon servants. This is poor enough ; and the next tale, of
his thoughts and senses, that he could not tear himself from “ My Grandfather," an Irish dragoon at Bruges, is not her presence. Her manner, too, was singular and unacmuch better. “ The German Student" is considerably countable. She spoke no more of the guillotine. Her grief more interesting. He is a visionary youth of good
had abated. The attentions of the student had first won
I her confidence, and then, apparently, her heart. She w family, whose brain has been turned by the bewilder
evidently an enthusiast like himself, and enthusiasts soon ing speculations of the German universities, at the be- || understand each other. ginning of the French revolution. He goes to Paris to " In the infatuation of the moment Wolfgang avowed his divert himself amidst the splendours and gaieties of
ondours and maieties of ll passion for her. He told her the story of his mysterious
dream, and how she had possessed his heart before he had that city. Here his gloom and despondency increase, even seen her. She was strangely affected by his recital, and in one of his fantastic dreams he falls in love with and acknowledged to have felt an impulse toward hinn a female face of transcendent beauty :
equally unaccountable. It was the time for wild theory and
wild actions. Old prejudices and superstitions were done " Such was Gottfried Wolfgang, and such his situation at || away, every thing was under the sway of the Goddess of the time I mentioned. He was returning home late one Reason,' Among other rubbish of the old times, the forms stormy night, through some of the old and gloomy streets and ceremonies of marriage began to be considered superof the Marais, the ancient part of Paris. The loud claps | fluous bonds for honourable minds. Social compacts were
the vogue. Wolfgang was too much of a theorist not to be || the quickness of lightning. He saw me as I came rushing tainted by the liberal doctrines of the day.
upon him-he turned pale, looked wildly to right and left as "• Why should we separate?' said he: our hearts are || if he would have fled, and trembling drew bis sword. united; in the eye of reason and honour we are as one.
I "• Wretch !' cried I, well may you draw your weaWhat need is there of sordid forms to bind high souls together ?
* “ I spake not another word—I snatched forth a stiletto, “ The stranger listened with emotion : she had evidently I put by the sword which trembled in his hand, and buried my received illumination at the same school.
poniard in his bosom. He fell with the blow, but my rage 66 • You have no home nor family,'continued he; let me was unsated. I sprung upon him with the blood-thirsty feelbe every thing to you, or rather let us be every thing to one ing of a tiger; redoubled my blows; mangled him in my another. Ii form is necessary, form shall be observed frenzy, grasped him by the throat, until with reiterated there is my hand. I pledge myself to you for ever.' wounds and strangling convulsions he expired in my grasp. " • For ever!' said the stranger, solemnly.
I remained glaring on the countenance, horrible in death, 66 • For ever!' repeated Wolfgang.
that seemed to stare back with its protruded eyes upon me. " The stranger clasped the hand extended to her:" Then Piercing shrieks roused me from my delirium. I looked I am yours,' murmured she, and sunk upon his bosom. round, and beheld Bianca flying distractedly towards us. lly
“The next morning the student left his bride slecping. || brain whirled-I waited not to meet her; but fed from the and sallied forth at an early hour to seek more spacious scene of horror. I fled forth from the garden like another apartments, suitable to the change in his situation. When Cain,-a hell within by bosom, and a curse upon my head. he returned, he found the stranger lying with her head | I fled without knowing whither, almost without knowing why. hanging over the bed, and one arm thrown over it. He | My onlv idea was to get farther and farther from the horrors spoke to her, but received noreply. He advanced to awaken || I had left behind; as if I could throw space between myher from her uneasy posture. On taking her hand, it was self and my conscience. I led to the Apennines, and wancold-there was no pulsation-her face was pallid and dered for days and days among their savage heights. How ghastly. In a word-she was a corpse.
I existed, I cannot tell-what rocks and precipices I braved, “Horrified and frantic, he alarmed the house. A scene || and how I braved them, I know not. I kept on and on, of confusion ensued. The police was summoned. As the I trying to out-travel the curse that clung to me. Alas! the officer of police entered the room, he started back on be shrieks of Bianca rung for ever in my ears. The horrible holding the corpse.
countenance of my victim was for ever before my eyes. "Great heaven!'cried he, how did this woman come The blood of Fillippo cried to me from the ground. Rocks, here?'
trees, and torrents all resounded with my crime. Then it " • Do you know any thing about her?' said Wolfgang, was I felt how much more insupportable is the anguish of eagerly.
remorse than every other mental pang. Oh! could I but 56 Do I?' exclaimed the police officer: “she was guillo I have cast off this crime that festered in my heart-could I tined yesterday !
but have regained the innocence that reigned in my breast “ He stepped forward ; undid the black collar round the as I entered the garden at Sestri-could I but have restored neck of the corpse, and the head rolled on the floor.
my victim to life, I felt as if I could look on with transport, * The student burnt into a frenzy. "The fiend! the even though Bianca were in his arms. fiend has gained possession of me!' shrieked he: “I am " By degrees this frenzied fever of remorse settled into a lost for ever!?
permanent malady of the mind-into one of the most hor" They tried to soothe him, but in vain. He was pos- || rible that ever poor wretch was cursed with. Wherever I sessed with the frightful belief that an evil spirit had reani- || went, the countenance of him I had slain appeared to folmated the dead body to ensnare him. He went distracted, || low me. Whenever I turned my head, I beheld it behind and died in a mad-house."
me, bideous with the contortions of the dying moment. Then follow some other stories of no particular in- I have tried in every way to escane from this borrible terest, until we arrive at that of “ The Young Italian." ||
ll phantom, but in vain. I know not whether it be an illusion
to the mind, the consequence of my dismal education at the This is far too long, but it is more carefully written convent, or whether a phantom really sent by Heaven to than the others. During his absence from a beloved il punish me, but there it ever is-at all times-in all places. mi tress, a treacherous friend makes her to believe that
Nor has time nor habit had any effect in familiarizing me
with its terrors. I have travelled from place to placehe has been shipwrecked, and allures her into a mar
plunged into amusements--tried dissipation and distraction riage. He returns, detects the wickedness, and thus of every kind-all-all in vain. I once had recourse to my ends the tale:
pencil, as a desperate experiment. I painted an exact re
semblance of this phantom face. I placed it before me, in - A new suspicion darted across my mind — What!' ex hopes that by constantly contemplating the copy, I might claimed I, do you then fear him? is he unkind to you? || diminish the effect of the original. But I only doubled inTell me,' reiterated I, grasping her hand, and looking her | stead of diminishing the misery. Such is the curse that eagerly in the face, " tell me-dares he to use you has clung to my footsteps-that has made my life a burthen, harshly?'.
but the thought of death terrible. God knows what I have 16. No! no! no!' cried she, faltering and embarrassed suffered-what days and days, and nights and nights of -but the glance at her face had told me volumes. I saw in sleepless torment--what a never-dying worm has preyed her pallid and wasted features, in the prompt terror and || upon my heart--what an unquenchable fire has burned subdued agony of her eye, a whole history of a mind broken within my brain ! He knows the wrongs that wrought upon down by tyranny. Great God! and was this beauteous || my poor weak nature; that converted the tenderest of afflower snatched from me to be thus trampled upon ? The fections into the deadliest of fury. He knows best whether idea raised me to madness. I clenched my teeth and my a frail erring creature has expiated by long-enduring torhands; I foamed at the mouth; every passion seemed to have lture and measureless remorse the crime of a moment of resolved itself into the fury that like a lava boiled within my | madness. Often, often have I prostrated myself in the heart. Bianca shrunk from mein speechless affright. As I || dust, and implored that he would give me a sign of his for. strode by the window my eye darted down the alley. Fatal | giveness, and let me die." moment! I beheld Fillippoata distance! my brain was in delirium-I sprang from the pavilion, and was before him with The second part consists of sketches of town life, and is called “ Buckthorne and his Friends.” It is ll to the lady of the house, and were extravagantly fond of the not very well done. Mr. Irving knows nothing of || children. Some few, who did not feel confidence enough to
make such advances, stood shyly off' in corners, talking to town. All his notions are gathered from old books, || one another; or turned over the portfolios of prints, which and are exceedingly absurd. His pictures of “ life" they had not seen above five thousand times, or moused amongst the lower retainers of literature are daubs and || over the music on the forte-piano. mistaken ones. But there is an amusing account of a
Account of all “ The poet and the thin octavo gentleman were the per
sons most current and at their ease in the drawing-room; literary dinner :
being men evidently of circulation in the west end. They 66 I was surprised to find between twenty and thirty || got on each side of the lady of the house, and paid her a guests assembled, most of whom I had never seen before.
thousand compliments and civilities, at some of which Mr. Buckthorne explained this to me by informing me
I thought she would have expired with delight. Every that this was a business dinner, or kind of 'field-day, which I thing they said and did had the odour of fashionable lile. the house gave about twice a year to its authors. It is true
I looked round in vain for the poor devil author in the rusty they did occasionally give snux dinners to three or four lite- || black coat; he had disappeared immediately after leaving rary men at a time ; but then these were generally select || the table, having a dread, no doubt, of the glaring light of authors, favourites of the public, such as had arrived at || a drawing-room. Finding nothing further to interest my their sixth or seventh editions. • There are,' said he, cer
attention, I took my departure soon after coflee had been tain geographical boundaries in the land of literature, and
served, leaving the poet, and the thin, genteel, hot-pressed, you may judge tolerably well of an author's popularity, by ll octavo gentleman, masters of the field.” The wine his bookseller gives him. An author crosses the
Then comes an extravagant account of a “ poor port line about the third edition, and gets into claret; and
devil-author's life.” when he has reached the sixth or seventh, he may revel in
This is followed by a long autochampagne and burgundy.'
biography of Buckthorne, who is a smart man about • These hints enabled me to comprehend more fully the town. The second part ends with the history of “ A arrangement of the table. The two ends were occupied || Strolling Manager," which is tedious and unfaithful. by two partners of the house: and the host seemed to have | adopted Addison's idea as to the literary precedence of his
|| The truth is, after all, Mr. Irving is not very happy in guests. A popular poet had the post of honour; opposite || his pictures of society. His shrewdness is on paper, to whom was a hot-pressed traveller in quarto with plates. Il and not in his real observations. With his powers of A grave-looking antiquarian, who had produced several || description we could turn our knowledge to a much solid works, that were much quoted and little read, was treated with great respect, and seated next to a neat dressy
better account. But this may not be. Next week we gentleman in black, who had written a thin, gentecl, hot
shall be able in our notice of the other portions of the pressed oetávo on political economy, that was getting into work to speak in a more favorable tone. fashion. Several three volume duodecimo men, of fair currency, were placed about the centre of the table; while the lower end was taken up by small poets, translators, and au
|| The Poetical Note-Book; and Epigrammatic Museum. By thors who had not as yet risen into much notoriety. . " The conversation during dinner was by fits and starts;
GEORGE WENTWORTH. Esq. London: Robertson and breaking out here and there in various parts of the table in Co. 1824. small flashes and ending in smoke. The poet who had the confidence of a man on good terms with the world, and inde
A GREAT many years ago we recollect to have seen pendent of his bookseller, was very gay and brilliant, and published some annual volumes, entitled “ Spirit of pendent ons ook ener, was very gaman natinim inal said many clever things which set the partner next him in a | the Public Journals,” consisting of such pieces of a
Publie Journale" consisting of such piersofa c, and delighted all the company. The other partner,
light, witty and humourous character, as might have however, maintained his sedateness, and kept carving on, with the air of a thorough man of business, intent upon the
appeared in the newspapers and periodicals of the cur. occupation of the moment. His gravity was explained to rent year. They were generally well edited, and
ne by my friend Buckthorne. He informed me that the formed a series of amusing books. For a long time, concerns of the house were admirably distributed among the
we know not wherefore, they have been discontinued. partners. Thus, for instance,' says he, the grave gentleman is the carving partner, who attends to the jointe; and Surely the pith and marrow of all the light literature the other is the laughing partner, who attends to the of the country ought to command a certain sale. We jokes.'
are confident that judiciously edited, such a publicao When the cloth was removed, and the wine began to
tion would do well at present. We have said so much circulate, they grew very merry and jocose among themselves. Their jokes, however, if by chance any of them
on the subject, because the volume before us is a colreached the upper end of the table, seldom produced much || lection of the same sort, but embracing a wider range. effect. Even the laughing partner did not seem to think it It extends over the whole surface of English literature, necessary to honour them with a smile; which my neigh
and contains specimens of the wit and merriment of bour Buckthorne accounted for, by informing me that I there was a certain degree of popularity to be obtained
all periods of our poetical history. The author takes before a bookseller could afford to laugh at an author's some credit to himself for being the first to collect a jokes.
volume of English Epigrams. This is a mistake. " After dinner we retired to another room to take tea and coffee, where we were reinforced by a cloud of inferior
The same thing has been done often enough before. guests-authors of small volumes in boards, and pamphlets
We have no less than three distinct collections of stitched in blue paper. These had not as yet arrived to the English Epigrams on our own shelves, and there are importance of a dinner invitation, but were invited occasi
multitudes of them to be found in the jest-books, onally to pass the evening in a friendly way.' They were
Il elegant extracts, &c. which load the common bookvery respectful to the partners, and, indeed, seemed to | elegant stand a little in awe of them ; but they paid devoted court || stalls. Still, these do not supersede the collection of
Mr. Wentworth. The world is wide enough for many 'Tis all a trick; these all are shams, more. In spite of the others, his is full of amusing
By which tbey mean to cheat you;
But have a care, for you're the lambs, and piquant sallies, and forms an excellent antidote to
And they the w-s that eat you: blue devils. The selection is made with a good deal Nor let the thoughts of no delay of judgment, though a great many of the epigrams are
To these their courts misguide you : not of the newest kind. But it is almost impossible
'Tis you're the sbewy horse, and they
The jockeys that will ride you." to compile a book of this sort that shall be new to all readers. We will present them with some speci
Ladies' Watches. mens:-
“ Among our fashionable bands,
What wonder now that Time should linger?
Allow'd to place his two rude hands “One sharp frosty day, his Majesty, when Prince of
Where no one else dares lay a finger." Wales, went into the Thatched House Tavern, and ordered
The Parson and Physician. a beefsteak; but the weather being very cold, desired the
“ How D. D. swaggers, M. D. rolls ! waiter to bring him first a glass of brandy and water. He
I deem them both a brace of noddies; emptied that in a twinkling, then a second, then a third.
Old D. D. has the cure of souls, Now,' said his Royal Highness, ' I am warm and comfort
And M. D. has the care of bodies. able; bring me my steak.' On this Mr. Sheridan, who was present, wrote the following impromptu :
Between them both what treatment rare,
Our souls and bodies must endure ;
One has the cure without the care,
And one the care without the cure."
" About the second year of the late King's reign, a man On finding a Pair of Shoes in the Bed of a Lady. of the name of George King was convicted in Dublin of a “ Well may suspicion shake its head,
| capital felony. He drew up a memorial to the King, whic Well may Clarinda's spouse be jealous,
he forwarded with the following lines :When the dear wanton take
“ George King to King George sends his humble petition, Her very shoes-because they're fellows."
Hoping King George will pity poor George King's conDean Swift's Barber.
If King George to George King will grant a long day, “ Dean Swist's barber one day told him that he had taken
George King for King George for ever will pray.” a public house. • And what's your sign ? said the Dean. 6 Oh, the pole and basin: and if your worship wou
What's an Epigram? write me a few lines to put upon it, by way of motto, I have
THE FIRST KNOWN ENGLISH EPIGRAM. no doubt but it would draw me plenty of customers. The || “On a scholar, who was pursuing his studies unsuccessDean took out his pencil, and wrote the following couplet, | fully, but, in the midst of his literary career, married unwhich long graced the barber's sign :
" A student at his book so plast, “ Rove not from pole to pole, but step in here,
That welth he might have wonne,
From book to wife did flete in haste,
From welth to wo to run,
Now who hath paid a feater cast,
Since juggling first beganne?
In knitting of himself so fast,
Himselt he hath undone.'
The Rival Watermen.
FOUNDED ON A RECENT FACT.
“ Two watermen the other day,
Tom Lipscombe- Andrew Ware,
As many men have done before,
Fell out about a fare.
Miss Ann Drew tripp'd towards the stairs,
Intending to take boat;
Says Ware, I likes with pretty fares
Úpon the Thames to float.
Ann Drew rejected Andrew Ware,
And drew where Lipscombe stood;
Says Ware, ' take care, for that's my fare,
**For you she’s far too good.'
Lipscombe rejoin'd, a pretty go,
I do not mind a spree,
And from a boy was bred to row,
And rowing's bread to me.'
• So let me, Andrew, tell you this,
Betwixt yourself and me,
If you should think to take that miss,
Mistaken you will be.'
But Miss Ann Drew, she chang'd her mind,
of the United States, however long or short a time one may As mismos osten do;
stay at a house. I may bere remark, as another peculiarity And like a ship before the wind,
in American taverns, that nothing is expected, either by Across the bridge she flew.
the waiter or chambermaid, as they are paid by the master Now blows do ost succeed a breeze,
of the house, and do not depend at all upon travellers. And so to mend the joke,
When remaining, indeed, at an inn for three or four days, The skull of Lipscombe, and the peace,
the better order of travellers often give the waiter halt a By Andrew's fist were bruke.
dollar, particularly if they expect to return there again.
But no one ever thinks of giving anything to the chaniberSo Lipscombe thought it right, his wrongs
maid. I may make a sin
ar remark with regard to the Before a court to bring;
drivers of the coaches, of whom indeed nine out of ten And Andrew was adjudy'd to pay,
would feel highly atlronted at being offered money. All is A Sou'reign to the King."
paid when the passage money is paid.
aid. This from Ne
York to Philadelphia, is only two dollars and a hall; in These are pretty good of their kind, and are a fair which, however, eating and drinking are of course not insample of the rest of the volume.
"By this laudable custom of not paying waiters and coachinen, travellers are exempt from a heavy tax, which
is levied in England, and indeed in every other country An Excursion through the United States and Canaila || through which I have travelled. during the years 1822-23. By an English Gentleman.
“At this, as at all taverns in the United States, the
stranger is boarded at so much per week or day. Indeed London: Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy. 8vo. 1824.
the tavern-keepers will not receive you on any other There is one feature in these travels which is almost
terms; and you cannot have your meals by yourself, nor
at your own hours. This custom of “boarding,' as it is peculiar to them alone ;-their liberality. One can
termed, I disliked very much, as it deprived me of many a scarcely believe that the author is an Englishman, meal when I was desirous of going to see sights. If a traafter the specimens of extravagant misrepresentation
veller stay at an hotel only one day, and from having
|| friends in the place neither dines nor sups, he is charged which English travellers in America have been so
nevertheless with a whole day's board. The terms of remarkable for furnishing. He appears to have visited | boarding are, however, very moderate; at the MansionAmerica with a mind free from all unworthy preju house only ten dollars per week. The table is always dices, and his book may be read with the certainty of
spread with the greatest profusion and variety, even at
breakfast, tea, and supper; all which meals indeed, were its being an honest picture of all that he observed.
it not for the absence of wine and soup, might be called so Besides its fidelity, it has the merit of being extremely many dinners. entertaining.
There, Dick, what a breakfast !-Oh, not like your ghost The author set out on his excursion towards the end
Of a breakfast in England-your curs’d tea and toast ! of the summer of 1822. He gives a pleasant account
but a variety that would astonish even those accustomed of his sea voyage-- which is more pleasant in the read.
to the morning repast of a Scotchman. At this important ing than in the reality. Like Mr. Mathews he arrives meal, besides tea, cotlee, egys, cold ham, beef, and such in the midst of the yellow fever at New York, but such like ordinary accompaniments, we always had hot tish, sauwas our author's antipathy to a ship-life that he con
sages, beefsteaks, broiled fowls, fried and stewed oysters,
preserved fruits, &c. &c. &c. The same variety of dishes sidered the change a welcome one. His description of
was repeated at supper." the harbour, and general appearance of the city of New York is very animated. The country is extremely
On board the Steam-boat he was obliged to endure beautiful, and the city was solitary and silent. Out
much ridicule for the manner in which His Majesty of a population of 120,000, not more than 7 or 8000
was received in Scotland. In his candour he quotes remained in the city, and these only in the higher and ||
the only in the higher and ll accounts from the English journals, which excited the more healthy parts. We cannot follow him in his
risibility of his fellow travellers, and we agree with enquiries respecting the origin of the yellow fever.
him that they are excessively absurd. Of Philadelphia The filthiness of the slips and quays producing an
he speaks in terms of praise for the neatness of the abominable stench, is of itself enough to cause a pez
Il buildings, and the cleanly and regular appearance of tilence. Lately the city authorities have turned their at
the streets. He expresses great surprise at the quiet tention to the state of the health police, and their first
and peaceable manner in which the elections are constep has been to rid the streets of the swine which used
ducted, especially as there was nothing like bribery or to be comfortably denizened there.
corruption. The ladies, he thinks, dress too gaudily : The fever at New York dispatched our gentleman
the gentlemen smoke too much, but this he accounts to Philadelphia. Of course he stopped on his route
“a pardonable vice, considering the cheapness and at an inn, and as American inns have been a great
excellence of their cigars,''-but the filthy habit of deal talked of and laughed at, we will quote his de
chewing tobacco our traveller with all his philosophy scription :
could not endure. We should wonder if he could.
From Philadelphia he passed rapidly on to Wash“In order to pay the bill at a tavern one is obliged to go | ington, where he complains like every other traveller oneself to the bar, as there is no oliicious waiter who can be called and ordered to bring word what there is to pay.ll of the silly conduct of the government in their arrangeIndeed paying at the bar is customary throughout the whole ment and completion of this embryo capital. The