have doubted whether it were not a splendid illusion which imagination was playing off upon his senses. Do not suspect me of exaggeration, for, what I have now written can give you but a faint idea of this abode of pleasure.

The arched passages to which I just now alluded, cross the gardens at right angles with each other, and yet, not in such a manner as to obscure the trees. In the recesses which bound the gardens on several sides, and also beneath the trees, tables are placed, furnished with cold collations, confectionaries and other refreshments. Transparent paintings rendered conspicuous by lights behind them, terminate several of the avenues, and all the arbours and walks are painted in a splendid

manner.

The rotunda is a magnificent room; it is finely painted, its walls are covered with mirrors and gild. ing, and two of the principal arched passages cross each other here. The flags of several nations are suspended within, accompanied by paintings characteristic of the several countries.

The orchestra is erected nearly in the centre of the gardens. It is in the form of a Grecian temple; the second story is open in front, and there the musicians are placed.

About 10 o'clock, thousands of well dressed people thronged the gardens. The first entertainment consisted of vocal and instrumental music from the orchestra, and then a noble company of musicians, in number about thirty, most splendidly dressed, and known by the name of the Duke of York's band, performed in a very superior style. The orchestra itself is one of the most beautiful objects that can be

imagined. It is a Grecian temple of no mean size, and it is illuminated with such a profusion of lamps arranged in the lines of the building that its appearance is extremely splendid. These lamps are simple in their form but very beautiful in their effect. They are somewhat spherical, open at the top and suspended by a wire. The wick floats in the oil, and the whole forms a little illuminated ball.

The entrance to the gardens presents you with double rows of these lamps arranged in perpendicular lines on the pillars, and then with other rows, corresponding with the form of the roof of the arched passage under which you enter. Along the concave of this roof, extending a great way into the gardens, other lamps are suspended so as to represent the starry heavens. Conceive farther, that these lamps are thus disposed in every part of the garden, in very various and beautiful forms, among the trees and green leaves, in the alcoves, recesses, and orchestra, and that some are green, others red, others blue, &c. thus transmitting rays of these colours only, and you may then form some idea of the gardens of Vauxhall.

Our little party in the gardens was under the direc tion of an American captain, who was familiar with the place. As soon as the band had finished performing, he told us to run after him, which we did with all possible speed, as we saw every body running that way, although we knew not why. Having reached the end of one of the arched passages, the captain, in language perfectly professional told us to haul our wind and lay our course for the fence.

This we did, For, down in

and the mystery was soon explained. a dark wood, we perceived a curtain rise, which discovered London bridge, and the water-works under it

nearly as large as the original. The scene was pro. duced by a combination of painting and mechanism. An old woman was sitting and spinning at the foot of the bridge; the mail and heavy coach passed over into town, and a fierce bull followed driving before him au ass. The thing was very well done, and it was at once so odd, unexpected and puerile, that it afforded us more diversion than a fine strain of wit could have done.

After this exhibition there was music again from the orchestra.

It was now past eleven o'clock, and the bell rung for the fire-works. These were exhibited from the bottom of a long dark avenue, terminated by a grove. They were very splendid, and, as the night was un. commonly dark, they produced their full effect. is-impossible to give any adequate idea of them by de scription.

It

After the fire-works there was an intermission, while every body that was disposed sat down to the cold collation. Our party had engaged a table in one of the boxes, as they are called. They are, in fact, little apartments without doors, closed on three sides, and opening into the gardens. I was now no longer at a loss for the meaning or propriety of the proverbial expression, a Vauxhall slice; for the ham was shaved so thin, that it served rather to excite than to allay the appetite. We sat, until the music, beginning again, animated the company to new feats.

Beside the musicians in the orchestra, several other bands now appeared in different parts of the gardens, seated on elevated platforms, railed in, and covered with splendid canopies. Music now broke out from various quarters, and a new entertainment was opened to the company.

The assemblies in these gardens al.

ways include a crowd of genteel people, among whom are, frequently, some of the nobility, and, occasionally, even the king and queen and royal family appear at Vauxhall.

But, in addition to these, no small part of the crowd is composed of courtezans. They are of that class who dress genteely, and whose manners are less indecorous than is usual with persons of their character. The renewal of the music was, it seems, a signal for them to commence dancing. This they did in several groups in various parts of the gardens, and the young men readily joined them. There was among these dancing females a large share of beauty and elegance, and some of them could not have been more than fif. teen or sixteen years of age. Their manners and modes of dancing, while they were not so gross as necessarily to excite disgust, were such as I ought not to describe. I can hardly believe what I heard asserted, that some respectable ladies, of more than common vivacity, and less than common reflection, occasionally, in a frolic, mix in these dances. However this may be, it is certain that both ladies and gentlemen, and little misses and masters, are always spectators of these scenes, and I saw numerous instances where young men would leave ladies who were under their care, and join the dances, and then return to their friends again.

This scene continued till half after one o'clock in the morning, when our party came away, and I was told that it would probably continue till three o'clock.

The new day had dawned when I reached home; I was much fatigued, and went to bed with a violent headach, and completely disgusted with a place, which, although superlatively elegant, is, I am convinced, a most successful school of corruption.

No. XXIII-LONDON.

House of Commons....Inconveniences to which spectators are subjected....Conversation with a member....Rotten boroughs ....Debate on the army....Col. C... Mr. Pitt....Lord Castlereagh....Windham's retort courteous.... Mr. Fox ... Sheridan....Association of ideas....Ceremonies and customs.

HOUSE OF COMMONS.

At a dinner, a few days since, I was introduced to two members of the House of Commons, who were so kind as to mention this day to me as one that would probably produce debates in their body with which a stranger would be gratified. One of these gentlemen gave me a good seat in the gallery, as he had offered to do when I saw him before. Strangers are not admitted on to the floor of the house, unless they are foreign ministers, or, are specially permitted, and the gallery therefore affords the only opportunity of seeing the House of Commons. The introduction of a member secures you a seat gratis; otherwise a douceur is paid to the door-keeper, from half a crown to half a guinea, according as the occasion is more or less interesting. The gallery is so small that it will not hold more than 150 or 200 people, and I should think not even so many. Whenever an important debate is expected, it becomes necessary therefore to go to the House very early in order to secure a seat; the gallery is sometimes occupied by seven o'clock A. M. and the House does not open till four o'clock P. M. All this tedious while the spectators may be obliged to wait, and then, in all probability, the greater part of the night will

1