London.

Many of the travellers who were making the journey for the first time, had been already consulting with each other what curiosities of London they should first see. But when the end of our journey was attained, every thing appeared, to me at least, quite different. In considering the immense whole, particularities disappear. Here is no time to think upon what is distant, because what is near already chains the attention. It is well known too, that the great specimens of magnificence, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Exchange, the Bank, and the Harbour, &c. will not escape observation.

All travellers have very properly observed that, whilst other capital cities create an impression by the magnificence of the style of architecture in which their houses and palaces are built, even when the towns are as quiet and depopulated as Potsdam, or even Berlin is in some quarters, this impression is far from being produced in London. Of palaces, properly so called, there is no trace, as in the above cities, in Prague, Vienna, Paris, or in the sumptuous, although smaller Italian capitals. Even the dwellings of royalty bear the name only of Houses, (the insignificant St. James's Palace excepted) for example, Buckingham House, where George the Third and his Queen used to reside, Carlton House, where the present King resided when he was still Prince Regent, Somerset House, &c. &c. &c. All the magnificence of which they can boast must be sought for in the interior of the chambers, and not in the exterior. The whole of Loudon is built of a reddish and white grey bricks, and these are very rarely covered over with stucco. Stone is met with only in a very few modern buildings. From the smoke of the sea coal, which, particularly at the end of autumn and winter, envelopes the whole of London, all the houses soon receive a black appearance, which is only somewhat compensated for by the shining looking glass of which the windows are composed. Most of the houses are perfectly like each other, generally very narrow.

Were we, therefore, to imagine to ourselves London, even in its most beautiful and most modern quarters, depopulated and without trade, it would become, indeed, particularly in the fre quently narrow streets of the city, a black melancholy mass of houses, to live amongst which would create only enui and disgust. But how totally different does it appear, when life and activity commence at the dawn of morning, and only terminate towards midnight, and not only the moving stream of people, but also the immoveable piles of goods which are presented to the eye in countless shapes, in the production of an industry, VOYAGES and TRAVELS, No. XLIX, VOL. IX.

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directed to a thousand employments, every where rivets the attention.

If these magazines and shops afford by day the most interesting sight to the stranger, and fixes his attention at every step he takes, the effect becomes far superior in the evening. The illumination of the streets of London has always been celebrated. Ithis at present greatly augmented by the use of Gas-lights. This pure light, which burns in the lanterns of the streets as well as in the shops, as soon as it becomes dusk, throws such a magic splendour over every thing, that we may imagine ourselves wandering amongst enchanted castles. As looking glasses are made use of in many extensive shops, every thing is reflected in a double and threefold degree. The costly silk stuffs of the most burning colours, laid in picturesque order by the side of and over each other; the East India shawls, the works in glass, the rarest fruits of all countries piled up pyramidically, the natural and artificial flowers appear as beautiful again as at day time. Between them the large round flasks and vases of the Chymists, as the Apothecaries are called, make a brilliant display. They are filled with clear red, blue, green, and yellow waters, and appear as if rubies, sapphires, topazes, and emeralds were shining in them. At a distance they raise an idea of a festive illumination, but these appearances are those of every day. It cannot be denied that the streets of London, in this respect, offer to the passenger every evening an extraordinary and singular sight.

And still, after all the magnificence and riches, the most surprising object of contemplation for the foreigner, consists in the hundred thousands of people who are continually moving up and down in this vast panorama.

The endless stream of people who, in following their business, particularly in the principal streets, are every where moving, like the ebb and flow of a tide, would render walking in the highest degree troublesome, were the passenger not secured from all danger of being injured by the continually rolling carriages, by the trottoirs, or foot pavements, raised a little above the street by the sides of the houses.

All the foot passengers, I met with in the large streets bore almost without exception the appearance of being in easy circumstances. Poverty and filth, which are not wanting even in London, are to be found far more generally in the smaller streets of the city. In the larger streets, on the contrary, almost every one is well dressed; the men usually wear black, and always very white linen, for the latter is indispensable in order to appear as a gentleman; the women, without exception, wear hats, and are very elegantly attired. It is related that nothing struck

even the Emperor of Russia so much in London, as the great number of well-dressed men and women whom he every where encountered; generally speaking, too, the physiognomist and observer of mankind finds no where such food for his reflection as here; for where does he meet with bright intellect and stupid torpidity; bashful modesty and proud ignorance; idleness and indefatigable activity; the ugly and the beautiful, (the latter however is here really predominant in both sexes,) in such varied forms? Where does he find more opportunity for. making reflections upon the varied application and misapplication of human abilities?

A similar throng and mass of people is to be seen, indeed, at certain hours, in all large cities, and every where, where there is something to be gazed upon. The peculiarity of London, however, is, that it never leaves off. A foreigner, who arrived at night, and towards noon came out of his lodging, which was situated in a principal street, stood still at the street-door, when he saw this stream of people flowing in every direction around him, in order, as he himself afterwards related, to let the people first pass by! Hour passed after hour, till finally a friend met with him, and assured him, he might wait till the evening, and that it would only cease towards night-time. He had, in fact, seriously thought that some sight, or execution, had been the occasion of this immense throng and the motion of so vast a crowd. Certainly, when hanging-day arrives, which is frequent enough, the pressure is, indeed, indescribable.

Manners, and way of Living, in England.

My stay in the country was too short to enable me to consider the prevailing manners and ways of living in all the various shapes they offer to the traveller. I have, indeed, given myself every trouble to come in contact with persons of different and manifold dispositions and employments, and, in this respect, I have succeeded. I have neither neglected to visit the poor miserable districts in the City, Southwark, and St. Giles's, where the lowest classes dwell, nor the most sumptuous quarters, the abode of affluence. By far too many figures, however, present themselves to me, that I could execute and give a proper finish to so great a picture. For this purpose, too, it would be necessary to possess the talent of the noblest historical painters, of a West, an Augelica; and to unite, that of a Tenier with those of the masters of caricatures, Hogarth and Rowlandson.

The difference of classes constitutes here, as every where,

the principal difference in the manners. It is, however, certainly tnore difficult in England, than in other countries, to ascertain this difference from external appearances. This arises from the manner of dress. The men's costume displays the greatest simplicity. The quality of the articles worn is, indeed, various; but, whatever meets the eye, whether in the street, or in company, whether worn by the minister of state, the opulent lord, the merchant, the wealthy mechanic, the clerk in the counting-house, is, throughout, the same; and, in the usual intercourse of social life, the court gala alone excepted, no exception is made therein. In the most populous streets I have never noticed any person who was to be distinguished by any external mark, particular uniform, the decoration of an order, or anything similar. What in Germany becomes a kind of duty to wear, would here create surprize, and, probably, would expose the wearer only to the insults and ridicule of the populace.

It is in no respect different with regard to the dress of the women. The real worth and costliness of the articles, not the particular manner of dress, constitutes the difference. In certain parts of the town, I thought I perceived only persons of rank, however they may vary in situation of life and property, because, in ordinary life, the humblest chambermaid wears her hat and muslin dress, as well as the richest lady; and, upon occasions, only of court ceremony, sumptuous festivals, or upon her visits to the Italian Opera, does the latter display all the magnificence and expense of dress.

In many establishments the late hour of tea-time concludes the arrangement of meals. A simple but cold supper is, nevertheless, to be met with sometimes, when the dinner hour happens between four and five o'clock. This supper takes place between the hours of nine and ten. It is natural, however, to imagine, from the way of life led by the great, that when we read of the supper commencing at four or five o'clock in the morning, that the same bears a proportion to a dinner at seven or eight in the evening, the natural consequence of which is, that in such houses, the hours of rising correspond almost with our dinner hour.

This is to be attributed partly to the immense size of the town, and to the course of business. The courts of justice and of law, the offices, the counting-houses the members, of which are frequently obliged to make a journey of several miles, cannot be shut so soon, opened again, and the business terminated, as in smaller places. To which may be added, that all the mails take their departure after midnight, and that a letter is certain of being forwarded, if delivered, even at the

office, a short time before twelve o'clock. Thus, in this great emporium of the trade of the world, the merchant fre-quently avails himself of the last moment he is allowed to wait, to forward any fresh intelligence that may transpire.

The Sunday in England.

Almost all travellers complain that they found nothing more melancholy than the British manner of keeping the Sunday. They assure us that on that day all nature appears expired, and that every tone of joy is hushed in sorrow. They pity the people who are thus denied every lawful enjoyment, and consider our laws far more happy, which are strangers to this constraint. I frankly assert that the Sunday has not appeared to me so gloomy and joyless, and that I reckon many of the Sundays I passed in England amongst the most pleasing days of my recollection, and cannot even suppress the wish that we at least might see a little more of that practised in Germany which is found in the highly respectable families of that country, both with respect to character and religious education. I am not here meaning to speak of those who, imbued with a stern religious melancholy, consider it a sin to divert themselves with the most innocent recreations, such as playing upon an instrument, or the reading of any book the contents of which treat not of religious subjects, and think themselves obliged to keep the sabbath holy, more in a sense of the old testament than in a christian one; but I mean to speak of those who could not but wish, that a certain uniform sentiment were introduced also into Germany in keeping the hours of Sunday.

I think, however, that whoever does not consider the theatre, balls, and gambling, as indispensable in order to be amused or to get rid of his enui, whoever has not lost all taste for the great beauties of nature and the joys of a noble and cheerful sociability in the family circle, cannot fail in being merry both within and without London, even on the Sunday.

First impression made by the National Character, the Social Life, and the ton of Intercourse.

What first presents itself to the traveller in foreign countries, and which he encounters at almost every step he takes, is the peculiarity in the customs, manners, and habits of social life, with which, in order not to appear singular, he must necessarily make himself acquainted. Nevertheless, we become nearly as soon accustomed thereto as the eye to new objects. After a few weeks residence we begin to pass rapidily over what at the beginning was wont to fix our attention for several days, and which we thought we should never grow tired of consider