CHOOSING A WIFE; OR, THE BACHELOR'S NOTE-BOOK. SEVENTEEN.-First love-virgin heart-blushes and bashfulness-too young-in love for the romance of it-not know her own mind-no honour in captivating fifty girls at sixteen-five-and-twenty, character formed-prudent, discreet-too old, chances going by-glad to catch at any-twenty-two, i. e. called nineteen-blue or black eyes indifferent, dark blue preferred quite pale-no deception, rouge hard to detect sometimes-blush better seen-beauty of blush chiefly in the sentiment of it -fine teeth and hair-rarely combined-good ancle-no display of it -not from boarding school-not passionately fond of dancing-singing great recommendation-warm hearted and affectionate, not enthusiastic-fond of the country-thousand or two highly desirable. Aug.7.-Tunbridge Wells, Smith's Hotel-only two pretty women at table-one called Caroline, quite to my taste-light as a fairy, true symmetry, noble creature sat next to me-Miss Dashwood finest bust I ever saw beautiful hair-braids and curls different shades-might be natural, helped twice to fish, besides poultry and pastry. Mem! mark that. much-not in the humour for itdisappointed about Caroline-Ladies always before hand in extending their hands in quadrilling-feel rather aukward with Caroline-hope they leave soon-Mrs. Smith says to-morrow. Aug. 22.-This day Mr. Mrs. and Miss Morrison joined our tableFanny Morrison quite a Hebe — mouth like a rose-bud-face full of dimples-sufficing plumpness-rather trussed-all smiles and good humour-only laughed when the dog tore her gown-mother ill health very fractious - Fanny sweetly assiduous-good daughter-good wife-only child-father a coal merchant rather objectionable — no lack of money. Aug. 29.-Fanny improves daily -never liked any one so well since Eleanor-to call in London? NoCity road-no attempts at hooking in the likeliest I've seen. London, Sept. 12.—Called at Morrison's-no one at home-very unlucky-house rather dirty- often the case where there's sicknesscan't call again well without a pretence-purchase four orders for the play, 11. 8s. Sept. 15.-Coach to Covent-garden Aug. 10.-Miss Dashwood engagTheatre four shillings and sixpence ed to a silversmith in London-sorry-sixpence too much-very silly of for it-too good for a tradesman's wife; thick ancles, though—eats immoderately. Aug. 12.-Tickets to the assembly -Caroline and Maria and her mother-Cary best dancer in the room -looked lovely, afraid she had coloured a little-very pettish about the rain-don't like the sly looks she casts at Maria, as if to say, I've caught him-think she's fond of me -some doubts about temper. Aug. 15.-Joked Cary about marriage-just as I wished, renew it again-don't think she has any for tune. Aug. 17.-Lucky escape, Caroline a termagant-slapped the chambermaid-talk of the whole housewon't go to the rooms to-night, glad of it-go myself. Aug. 18.-Nicish girl the first I danced with, Miss Corles-exquisite complexion-red hair-talked too Fanny to say she would rather pay double than dispute it-no mindno necessity for it-gaped at Julius Cæsar, laughed at Blue Beard-not read much-progidy-versitalityno time to spare-angelic disposition and temper-made me say more than I intended-don't think I committed myself-serious thoughts of proposing-wish she had not miscalled those words-call in City-road tomorrow-going to office. Sept. 16.-Breakfast cups different patterns-Fanny rather insipid hair in papers-neck-frill dirtyhalf engaged to dine on Thursday Fanny to write-wonder how-sir dear sir-dear Mr. Price-Miss Morrison's compliments-Tom to sup to-night-consult him. Sept. 18.-That infernal letter_ Tom to see it too—Mr. Price, Esq.— confounded ignorance could not marry a Venus with a vulgar soul-- all off-say I'm going to Walesstay uncertain.---Poor Fanny! think she cried at parting---may do after all-Mavor's spelling book-quite young still. Sept. 22.--Saved an old woman from being run over; daughter fainted in my arms bewitching black eyes---Jewess-Rachel-augh ---like to meet with my wife by accident-stage coach---play. General observations and sentiments---begin to understand the female character---woman devoid of vanity a non-entity-expect flattery like food---few receive it gracefully ---manners seldom entirely natural--different in the company of their own sex and ours--generally affect coyness---not always assumed--never could make Eleanor confess she loved me---Middleton says his wife never kissed him till she was his wife -gentle quiet demeanour preferable ---vivacity apt to degenerate into levity---better tempers on the whole than we are--distinguished talents of any kind no advantage to a woman unless she makes money by them---rather a wife who wrote Greek than one who studied stock-jobbing ---when politicians always opposition ---don't think they talk, on the whole, more than men, only longer at a time--great art, knowing when to be silent--not aware of the extent of their influence---don't use it skilfully -every one desirous of being married--never an old maid at five-andforty from choice---never met with a woman who was at once very pretty and witty---don't like visiting where number of daughters, downright snapdragons with mothers and aunts great many pretty portionless misses on hand at present---wonder any man should prefer a widow where money is not in the case---female youth so sweet and engagingwonder if I could meet with a girl who had never heard of Moore or Byron. Lime, Dorset, Oct. 2.--Like to know who that lovely creature was that opened her pew for me on Sunday--Miss Leeson. Oct. 19.---Lucky business brought me down to Lime---very true, "marriages made in heaven"---Miss Leeson perfect divinity---reminds me of Johnson's Fidelia, in attention to her grandfather---manners, person, mind, fortune, disposition, temper, connexions---all I could desire cannot suppose what fault she has-must have some. - surprised she is disengaged---many deserving girls lost in seclusion. - London, May 12.---Married at St. George's, Southwark, to Martha Leelife---brideson--happiest day of my cake flying-visitors calling-one hundred at house-warming-toldTom all bachelors should be taxed double, who said they ought among other luxuries--impertinent fellow---celibacy to matrimony like barley water to rich burgundy---caudle and crying christening and compliments clean fire-side--gout and good dinners---O! rare aunt Dorothy. ARIETTA. LINES TO LAURA. THINK not from me thy cause of grief to hide, Nor deem it strange I've read thy tender woe. And my Eur. Mag. Vol. 82. AMELIA OPIE. SKETCHES OF SOCIETY AND MANNERS IN LONDON AND PARIS. LETTER II. The Marquis de Vermont in London, to Sir Charles Darnley, Bart., at Paris. You English are such ramblers that, perhaps, of all places home is the last where your friends have any chance of finding you. Deeply, therefore, as I share the disappointment, my dear Darnley, which you have had the kindness to express at our separation, I confess I am more grieved than surprised at your absence. You are very philosophical in discovering, that we may both derive some advantage from the singular coincidence, which sent you by one road to Paris, while I took the other to London. This kind of moralizing, and drawing good from evil, is quite characteristic of your national disposition. I cannot be so reasonable, nor shall I ever cease to regret the loss of your valuable assistance, in viewing this interesting country. But as Fate has deprived me of so able a conductor, I must grope my way in the dark as well as I can; and, after having done so, I shall avail myself of your permission, and submit my remarks to the examination and correction of your superior judgment. Nor shall I hesitate when I perceive, in your observations on France, any error which my local knowledge can set right, to point out to you the supposed mistake. In reading your letter, I could not help smiling at some of your critiques. No one is more liberal than yourself; yet so difficult is it to divest oneself of early prejudices, that even you seem to consider all those incongruities which drew your notice on the road to Paris, as peculiar to the country which you are visiting; forgetting what a modern writer observes, with equal truth and neatness," that inconsistency is the grand characteristic of man. I do not pretend to assert, that no absurdities can be found in our usages and manners; but in what region, inhabited by human beings, will no similar imperfections be discovered? In general, I believe, it is true, that in your favoured island more pains are taken to preserve a corresponding propriety in all you do or undertake, than elsewhere; but even in England, do you think there are no inconsistencies? I have, as yet, only spent one week in this proud Albion, yet I have not done so, without perceiving that, in spite of its freedom, moral rectitude, and diffused knowledge, this country has still its contradictions. To begin with the Inns, which are generally, and perhaps justly, considered as superior to those on the Continent, and which some travellers have compared to the Palaces of Princes, I confess that, in many respects, they deserve the praises which have been lavished on them. The civility of the landlords, and the almost troublesome attention of the waiters, the well-carpeted and well-aired rooms, into which the fatigued stranger is conducted on his arrival, the blazing fire,-the close-drawn curtains, the handsome and easy sopha, -the sideboard covered with glass and plate, and the general cleanliness of all around, are circumstances well calculated to justify such encomiums. Now, notwithstanding these varied conveniences, your most celebrated Inns are deficient in many things essential to the comfort of a person accustomed to the manners and habits of the Continent. When after a boisterous though rapid voyage I landed at Dover, (after having been much indisposed on the passage) I took up my quarters in one of the best hotels of that town, I was no less surprised than delighted at the manner in which * Translated from the original French. I was welcomed to this house of public entertainment. The master of the establishment met me as I left the packet; and, hearing that I intended to be his lodger, insisted on being my guide, and walked before me to his dwelling, promising, at the same time, that he would himself see my luggage conveyed to the Custom-house, and would superintend the examination of its con tents. f At the door of the inn I was received by his wife, a smiling and well-dressed young woman, who conducted me into a small but comfortable apartment; and in less than five minutes I found myself quite at home, while half a dozen waiters busied themselves in anticipating my wishes. One stirred the fire, a second drew down the curtains, a third placed on the polished table a pair of wax candles, a fourth lighted them, a fifth brought a newspaper, and a sixth, on my enquiring about dinner, ran for a bill of fare. "Well," thought I, "this England seems, indeed, a most delightful place, and a simple traveller is better treated here than an Ambassador or reigning Prince in other countries. Nor did I forget to contrast all these civilities with the cold and haughty manner in which you and I were so often received at similar houses in America. When the bill of fare, which was as long as la carte at a French restaurateur's, was produced, some of began.-It contained a list of every miseries my kind of butcher's meat, every kind of poultry, every kind of fish, and every kind of vegetables; but all these things were to dress, and nothing was ready, though the hour at which I arrived was precisely that at which I know the generality of Englishmen are in the habit of dining. The necessity of waiting, while my meal was preparing, did not very well accord with the ravenous appetite of a man who had not eaten since sun-rise, and who, in the interval, had crossed the Channel: but compelled to do so I requested, without making any selection, that my landlady would have the good ness to order for me whatever could be most expeditiously cooked. No time was lost in executing my orders; but when, on being informed that the dinner was ready, I begged that the soup might be brought in, I found, to my great disappointfrom habit necessary article in a ment, that that usual, and almost "Then," said I, "let me have what Frenchman's meal, had been omitted. boiled cod, with a very insipid sauce you have substituted." A slice of made of oysters (which I happen particularly to dislike) was followed by a plate of mutton chops, which could with difficulty persuade mywere so hard and so raw, that I self to taste them; and the potatoes, scarcely more inviting. I requested, which filled another dish, were therefore, to have some other vegetables, when some greens were placed on the table---but they, too, were underboiled. One of the waiters, perceiving that I did not seem to relish the dinner which he had set before me, said, very civilly, 66 Sir, -Perhaps you would prefer a beefwould you choose something else? steak, a veal cutlet, or a slice of cold ham?" tridge-some pigeons-a poulet au "Oh, no :-cannot I have a parris-africandeau-or a vol-au-vent?" (mentioning some of the articles which in France are met with in the vinced me that nothing of the kind commonest inns.) His answer conhours previous notice. In despair I was here to be had without several called for pastry; when an ill-made apple-tart and some tasteless jelly for a desert, a few oranges, a dry were brought in;-and when I asked biscuit, and a dish of sour apples, respect to wine I was equally unforwere all which I could obtain. In appeared so very strong to my patunate: I first tried the port, but it late, that I seemed to be swallowing liquid flames of fire and ether: I changed it for claret; the beverage rated, that I could scarcely recog thus denominated proved so adulte nise in its taste the most distant resemblance to my favourite Bordeaux. But to conclude the tale of mes petits malheurs, my next demand was for coffee:---after I had waited half before me, containing an elegant an hour, a silver salver was placed vase of the same metal; and by its side a china dish, with a well-buttered muffin, and a cut-glass jug full of the richest cream. All these pre parations promised weil; but when I began to pour out the coffee from the ornamental pot which held it, I found it so ill-made, and so diluted with water, that it was not without disgust that I swallowed a cup-full. Little refreshed by my dinner, and exhausted with the fatigues of the day, I expressed, at an early hour, my intention of retiring to rest: as soon as I told the waiter that such was my wish, a pretty and welldressed young woman, who said she was the chamber-maid, made her appearance; and carrying a wax ta per in a silver candlestick, led me through the intricate mazes of an old staircase, which seemed to run from one end of the house to the other, into a low-roofed room, where a small but neat bedstead, with fur niture of snowy-white linen, acccompanied with every other apparent comfort, seemed to promise that if I had not dined very luxuriously, I should be indemnified by the enjoyment of a good night's repose: think then of my disappointment, when on lying down that, instead of the pile of mattresses to which we are accustomed in France, there was nothing here but a down feather-bed, the heat of which was intolerable; while the sheets had been so highly mangled, that I could not find a resting place. After tossing about for several hours in a state of feverish irritation, I had at last sunk into an uneasy sleep, when I was suddenly roused by the sound of a horn, which announced, as I was informed the next day, the arrival of the London mail-coach. Again I attempted to tranquillize myself; and, after an interval of some time, fell again into an imperfect slumber, when I was a second time disturbed by a still louder noise than that which had at first awakened me: it was occasioned by some late travellers, who finding the gate of the inn closed, which was directly under my windows, were knocking at it, and demanding post horses. Such was my first night at an Eng lish inn; and such my experience of the comforts, the much vaunted comforts of a country which, in this res pect, is said to be superior to all the world. You will acknowledge that, if be. fore you had been a week in France you discovered some inconsistencies, before I had passed twenty-four hours in this island, I had sufficient cause to make a similar complaint. My bill, too, for these wretched accommodations amounted to something more than two guineas; for which sum at Paris, after eating the most luxurious dinner at Beauvillièrs' or Robèrts', you may sleep at any of the most expensive hotels, in such a bed as a Roman emperor would not have disdained. Nor were the circumstances which I have mentioned pe culiar to Dover-wherever I stopped on the road I found similar advantages, and similar disadvantages. At every inn I enjoyed on my arrival the comforts of a good fire, and a well aired room; and in all of them the charm of extreme cleanliness, and great civility :---but when wishing to satisfy my appetite I called for the bill of fare, I uniformly received a long list of mutton, veal, beef, lamb, poultry, and fish to dress; and I soon learnt that, unless I was disposed to wait three or four hours for the preparation of a dinner, and to treble the already heavy charges of my travelling expenses, that the only real choice was between a tough mutton-chop and a hard beef-steak, between an ill-cooked veal cutlet and a raw leg of roast lamb, and between stale pastry and insipid jelly. Having thus spoken frankly of the inconveniences which I have experienced, it gives me great pleasure to reverse the picture, and to speak to you of the satisfaction which my journey has already afforded me. In going from Dover to London, I was delighted with the rapidity of the posting, the beauty of the horses, and the civility of the drivers---the excellence of the roads--the rich variety of the landscapes-the ornamented grounds and elegant villas of the gentry-the white cottages and neat gardens of the peasantry--the picturesque villages-the appearance of comfort so generally displayed in the dresses and dwellings of all orders of the people-and with the first sight of your renowned Thames, flowing majestically between the counties of Kent and Essex; and so crowded with vessels, that I seemed to behold a forest of masts. I was also much surprised at the multitude of travellers, whom |