No. XXVIII.-LONDON.

Royal circus-A pantomime-Absurdity of battles on the stageHorsemanship-Ludicrous scene-Courtezans-Old BaileyIncidents there-A wonderful old sinner-Debtors in Newgate -Goldsmith's garret-Morland picture gallery—Ludicrous courtship-The painter his own satirist-Evening at home— Mr. Nicholson-Dr. Hooper and the Mary le Bone establishments-Celibacy.

ROYAL CIRCUS.

In the evening I went with an acquaintance to the Royal Circus, which is in St. George's fields on the Surry side of the Thames. This circus is an elegant building, fitted up, like other places of the kind, with a pit, boxes, and a gallery, and with a stage and scenery adapted to pantomimes, buffoonery and feats of bodily activity.

The entertainment consisted of specimens of all these. The pantomime was nearly unintelligible to me, as I was unacquainted with the story. I believe however that it was taken from Shakspeare's Cimbeline. The English are still fond of battles on the stage, as they were in Addison's time, nor do the judicious objections raised against this kind of representation by him appear to have at all corrected the national taste. This evening there was a great battle fought between the Romans and ancient Britons, with much noise and strife, and no small clashing of swords and helmets, but as nobody was killed, it was somewhat difficult to believe that the combatants had really been in sober earnest. As this impression will always remain on the mind, it is certainly better that fight

ing and murdering seenes should be related, and not acted.

The horsemanship was wonderful. The feats which these people perform would, I think, be incredible to any one who had not seen similar things. Could we perceive any useful purpose, either of war or peace, to which this surprising muscular activity can be applied, we should look at equestrian exercises with more complacency, but, as the case is, they must be regarded as a frivolous and childish amusement.

You have seen equestrian exercises in America, and the common feats of riding on one foot, on one toe, (the great toe of course) while the other foot is in the air-of riding with one foot on one horse and the other on another--of lying extended upon the back lengthwise, on one horse, or crosswise on two; of riding on one hand, the body being thrown up into the air; of vaulting to the ground, and back to the saddle, alighting in both instances on the feet, while the horse is in full gallop; these, and other similar feats, however surprising, have in a measure, lost their effect by familiarity. I saw one feat to-night however which was novel. A board full of lighted candles stuck into holes bored in it, was held by two men very high, over the course, and at right angles with it; the horse in full career passed under the board, and the equestrian with an astonishing leap bounded over it and over the burning candles, and alighted upon the saddle, as the horse came out from under the board. It is said that the same feat has been performed where instead of lighted candles the points of naked bayonets formed the fence to be leaped. In the course of the evening Harlequin and Scaromouch were introduced on to the stage, and were, without doubt,

very gratifying to those who can be amused with seeing man become a monkey, and "the human face divine" distorted with every possible spasm and grimace, and disguised with the most ludicrous and absurd combinations of artificial colour.

There was one circumstance which afforded the gallery a high degree of amusement. Scaramouch sat down to supper, and all of a sudden, the table was transformed into a tall pale ghost, which rose and embraced poor Scaramouch, who was petrified with consternation; with a desperate effort he disengaged himself from the ghost, which then walked slowly and solemnly around the stage.

This peice of deception was effected by concealing a man beneath a table; his head was let through it by means of a hole, and covered with a napkin as if it had been a roasted goose. At the appointed moment, the man rose, with the table on his shoulders; the table was so small that the table cloth answered very well for a winding sheet, and fell down around the ghost, trailing on the floor and concealing his limbs.

There was a great deal of buffoonery, indecent dancing, mimickry, and other similar things most of which were as dull, as they were all silly and childish. Such are the amusements with which some of the people of London recreate themselves after the fatigues of business. I mixed with the crowd in the pit and other parts of the house, and indeed it is my wish, as far as possible, to mingle in scenes of every description, whenever I can do it without guilt or danger, for, if one would form a correct estimate of human life and the human character, he must "catch the manners living as they rise." To obtain an adequate idea of the morals of London, it is necessary to visit the

theatres, the gardens, and other public places, and to walk at night through the principal streets. In all these places you will see multitudes of those whom it is scarcely possible to name without offence and disgust, and whose impudent and shameless advances, made without any regard to the decorum of time, place, or character, nothing but the most frequent and decided repulses can repress or even discourage.

Perhaps I ought to apologize for alluding to a subject so painful to every virtuous mind, but circumstances of this nature are so frequent and so glaring, and form so prominent a feature in London manners, that it is scarcely possible to pass them by in total silence.

OLD BAILEY.

July 13.-I dined with a friend, and in the afternoon went with him to the Old Bailey, a court which I need only name, to you, who are familiar with English jurisprudence. It is under the same roof with the famous Newgate prison. The cells which separate the unhappy felons from the rest of mankind; the court that furnishes their death warrant, and the fatal apparatus which launches them into eternity, are all here upou one spot. Tyburn is no longer the scene of execution; that distressing, although necessary act of justice, is now performed at the door of the Newgate prison, in one of the most public streets in London. In the back yard of the Old Bailey, we saw the scaffold. It is a stage erected on runners, and furnished with a gallows, beneath which is a trapdoor, that falls from under the culprit; when an execution is to take place, the machine is dragged out from the yard into the street, and placed before one of the prison

doors, through which the prisoner is conducted to the scaffold. There he is suffered to hang, sometimes for an hour. Although several executions have happened since I have been residing in London, it has not been my misfortune to pass by Newgate, in time to see a kind of tragedy of which I would not willingly be a spectator.

At the Old Bailey, a man was under trial for his life, on an indictment for burglary. I witnessed the issue of the trial. Judge Lawrence summed up the case to the jury, with perspicuity and humanity. Without leaving their seats, the jury acquitted the man of burglary, but found him guilty of a common larceny. Influenced by that commisseration which we are too prone to feel for one in his circumstances, I was gratified to find that his life was not forfeited, especially as he appeared like a forlorn, distressed man. He seemed to be half starved, and when called upon by the court for his defence, he said that he was without witnesses and without friends.

Immediately after, a woman was brought to the bar, and indicted for crimes, for which, if convicted, she must loose her life. As we did not stay to hear this trial through, I do not know her fate. Judge Lawrence had retired, and the Recorder now presided. I was disgusted with the captiousness and imperiousness which he displayed. Surely, while an upright judge asserts, with firmness, the dignity of the laws, he should bear himself with all possible humanity towards the trembling wretch who stands before him.

Last evening a young girl of sixteen or seventeen years of age was condemned to death in this court for forgery. In the same place, and for the same crime, stood convicted the famous Dr. Dodd, whose singularly distressing case