statue of Handel, by the great French sculptor, Roubilliac, in the gardens. But it is time that we should give a more particular description of the appearance of the gardens under their new aspect. The favourite method of reaching them was of course still by small boats on the water, and a gay and animated scene the Thames must have presented at such times. The author of A Trip to Vauxhall' (1737) thus describes this very pleasant mode of locomotion. He has two ladies in company with him: so

"Lolling in state, with one on either side,

And gently pulling with the wind and tide,
Last night, the evening of a sultry day,
We sail'd triumphant on the liquid way,
To hear the fiddlers of Spring Gardens play,

To see the walks, orchestra, colonnades,

The lamps and trees in mingled lights and shades.
The scene so new, with pleasure and surprise,
Feasted awhile our ravish'd ears and eyes.
The motley crowd we next with care survey,
The young, the old, the splenetic, and gay," &c.

The poem then proceeds with a satirical account of the company assembled in the gardens, referring of course more particularly to well-known individuals. A fuller account of the gardens is given in a letter professedly written by a foreigner to his friend at Paris; and which was published in 'The Champion,' of the 5th of August, 1742. The writer had previously visited Ranelagh, and in reference to that place says, "I was now (at Vauxhall) introduced to a place of a very different kind from that I had visited the night before vistas, woods, tents, buildings, and company, I had a glimpse of, but could discover none of them distinctly, for which reason I began to repine that we had not arrived sooner, when all in a moment, as if by magic, every object was made visible, I should rather say illustrious, by a thousand lights finely disposed, which were kindled at one and the same signal; and my ears and my eyes, head and heart, were captivated at once. Right before me extended a long and regular vista; on my right hand I stepped into a delightful grove, wild, as if planted by the hand of nature, under the foliage of which at equal distances I found two similar tents, of such a contrivance and form as a painter of genius and judgment would choose to adorn his landscape with. Farther on, still on my right, through a noble triumphal arch, with a grand curtain, still in the picturesque style, artificially thrown over it, an excellent statue of Handel (Roubilliac's) appears in the action of playing upon the lyre, which is finely set off by various greens, which form in miniature a sort of woody theatre. The grove itself is bounded on three sides, except the intervals made by the two vistas, which lead to and from it, with a plain but handsome colonnade, divided into different apartments to receive different companies, and distinguished and adorned with paintings, which, though slight, are well fancied, and have a very good effect. In the middle centre of the grove, fronting a handsome banqueting-room, the very portico of which is adorned and illuminated with curious lustres of crystal glass, stands the orchestra (for music likewise here is the soul of the entertainment), and at some distance behind it a pavilion that beggars all description-I do not mean for the richness of the materials of

which it is composed, but for the nobleness of the design and the elegance of the decorations with which it is adorned. In a word, architecture such as Greece would not be ashamed of, and drapery far beyond the imaginations of the East, are united in a taste that I believe never was equalled, nor can be exceeded." Our readers may think this praise somewhat extravagant; but there is in Fielding's Amelia' a very interesting passage, which shows us that it did no more than justice to the exceeding loveliness of Vauxhall. The great novelist observes, and evidently in his own personal character, "The extreme beauty and elegance of this place is well known to almost every one of my readers; and happy is it for me that it is so, since to give an adequate idea of it would exceed my power of description. To delineate the particular beauties of these gardens would indeed require as much pains, and as much paper too, as to rehearse all the good actions of their master; whose life proves the truth of an observation which I have read in some other writer, that a truly elegant taste is generally accompanied with an excellency of heart; or, in other words, that true virtue is indeed nothing else but true taste.' Under a man of this stamp, it is not probable that Vauxhall would remain to any serious degree obnoxious to the censures with which Addison and Sir Roger de Coverley branded it. It was, no doubt, made an innocent as well as an elegant place of enjoyment, if we measure it by the only fair standard, the manners and customs of the best society of the time. Goldsmith, writing perhaps about 1760, having praised the singers and the very elegant band of performers, continues, "The satisfaction which I received the first night (of the season) I went there was greater than my expectations; I went in company of several friends of both sexes, whose virtues I regard and judgments I esteem. The music, the entertainments, but particularly the singing, diffused that good humour among us which constitutes the true happiness of society." The same author's account of Vauxhall in the 'Citizen of the World' contains some interesting passages; this occurs in the description of the visit to the gardens of the shabby beau, the man in black, and one or two other persons, in company with the Chinese philosopher. The beau's lady, Mrs. Tibbs, has a natural aversion to the water, and the pawnbroker's widow, being "a little in flesh," protests against walking, so a coach is agreed on as the mode of conveyance. The illuminations," says the philosopher, "began before we arrived, and I must confess that upon entering the gardens I found every sense overpaid with more than expected pleasure: the lights everywhere glimmering through scarcely-moving trees; the full-bodied concert bursting on the stillness of night; the natural concert of the birds in the more retired part of the grove, vying with that which was formed by art; the company gaily dressed, looking satisfaction, and the tables spread with various delicacies,-all conspired to fill my imagination with the visionary happiness of the Arabian lawgiver, and lifted me into an ecstasy of admiration. Head of Confucius,' cried I to my friend, this is fine! this unites rural beauty with courtly magnificence.'' A dispute between the two ladies now engages the philosopher's attention : "Mrs. Tibbs was for keeping the genteel walk of the garden, where, she ob

Amelia, b. ix. c. ix.

A Visit to Vauxhall. Prior's Ed. of Goldsmith's Works, vol. i. 202.

served, there was always the very best company; the widow, on the contrary, who came but once a season, was for securing a good standing-place to see the water-works, which she assured us would begin in less than an hour at furthest." The cascade here referred to had been but recently introduced into the gardens, so we need not wonder at the widow's anxiety to see what was as yet a great attraction. A few years later the "water-works" "water-works" were greatly improved, and called the Cataract; the effects then produced were very ingenious and beautiful; and at the signal for their commencement,-the ringing of a bell at nine o'clock, there was a general rush from all parts of the gardens. The widow, therefore, shows her prudence in getting a good standing-place in time. From another part of the same account we perceive that the keepers of the boxes were accustomed to make distinctions between the persons who desired boxes, reserving those "in the very focus of the public view," where the beau wished to be, for more genteel company." We may conclude our notice of the literary associations of Vauxhall by recalling to our readers the well-known scenes in Miss Burney's novels which take place in the gardens, more particularly the one in Evelina,' where the heroine endures so many mortifications whilst in the company of the vulgar family of the Braughtons, and that in Cecilia,' where the weak and miserable Harrel, after a night of frenzied gaiety, commits suicide.

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Up to the year 1752 Tyers was only a tenant, but he then purchased the property. He died in 1767. "Tom Tyers," his son, author of Political Conferences,' was one of Johnson's social circle, and not the least esteemed of its members.

We have alluded to the literary associations of Vauxhall; and these remind us of some others of an amusing character. The following appeared as an advertisement in the London Chronicle' of the 5th August, 1758:-" A young lady who was at Vauxhall on Thursday night last in company with two gentlemen could not but observe a young gentleman in blue and a gold-laced hat, who, being near her by the orchestra during the performance, especially the last song, gazed upon her with the utmost attention. He earnestly hopes (if unmarried) she will favour him with a line, directed to A. D., at the bar of the Temple Exchange Coffee-house, Temple Bar, to inform him whether fortune, family, and character may not entitle him, upon a further knowledge, to hope an interest in her heart," &c. The advertisement is altogether written in a spirit and style which seem to mark it as the genuine effusion of a lover whom despair of finding the object of his sudden attachment had impelled into the adoption of an unusual course. Another reminiscence of Vauxhall is connected with the half-insane conduct of a man who, about sixteen years ago, excited a great deal of temporary notice. He called himself "the Ærial," and appears to have been filled with the idea of his more than earthly physical perfections. Among various other fantastic tricks, he was in the habit of calling upon eminent professional men, surgeons and artists, and offering them permission to study for their several purposes from his body as a model of perfection. His first public appearance at Vauxhall is thus recorded in 'The Times' of the 2nd of July, 1825 :-" An individual in a splendid dress of Spanish costume has excited much attention at Vauxhall Gardens. Having walked or rather skipped round the promenade with a great air

of consequence, saluting the company as he passed along, he at length mingled amongst the audience in the front of the orchestra, and distributed a number of cards, on each of which was written, The Erial challenges the whole world to find a man that can in any way compete with him as such. After having served about three or four hundred of these challenges, he darted off like lightning, taking the whole circuit of the gardens in his career, and made his exit through the grand entrance into the road, where a carriage was in waiting for him, into which he sprang and was driven off."

The prices of admission into the gardens have undergone several changes: prior to 1792 the charge was one shilling; new and expensive decorations were then introduced, and the charge raised to two shillings, including however tea and coffee. During the present century four shillings without any refreshment has been long paid; the next change was to the original price of one shilling only. During this last-mentioned period a new and great attraction was added—the Nassau balloon, the largest machine of the kind yet constructed; which, as is well known, derives its name from the extraordinary aërial journey made in it from London to Nassau in Germany, by Mr. Green and his fellow-travellers. At present, during the few nights on which the gardens are open prior to the disposal of the property, the price of admission is three shillings.

Yes, Ranelagh is gone; and but a few short days or weeks may elapse before Vauxhall will have shared its fate. The lustrous long arcades," along which of old swept the courtly and fashionable throng,-revelling in all the

fantastic varieties of the Mode, as we see them pictured in engravings of the time, will perhaps soon be changed into long and busy rows of bricks and mortar, where the wandering minstrel with his barrel-organ will usurp

the place of the magnificent "full-bodied concert," and the stentorian cries of the perambulatory dealers rise in harsh contrast with the songs of the nightingales which were once heard from the lofty, over-arching, and fragrant boughs, in the same place, when Addison roamed along its walks, meditating possibly his next 'Spectator,' and beheld, in his " mind's eye," Sir Roger, by his side, buried in a train of the tenderest recollections of the widow!

But the illustrious memories of such places as Ranelagh and Vauxhall, like the deeds of good men, die not with them. We shall still be able to a certain extent to enjoy all they offered for enjoyment in the pages of our great writers; and even this humble memorial may not for the same purpose be found useless. It is that consideration which impels us to conclude our paper with a description of a place so often described, and so generally well known. What would be useless as a present guide may as a future record be of value. The mode of entrance into the gardens, which extend over about eleven acres, is admirably calculated to enhance their extraordinary effect on the first view. We step at once from the passages into a scene of enchantment, such as in our young days opened upon our eyes as we pored over the magical pages of the Arabian Nights.' It were indeed worth some sacrifice of time, money, and convenience, to see for once in a lifetime that view. At first, one wide-extended and interminable blaze of radiance is the idea impressed upon the dazzled beholder. As his eyes grow accustomed to the place, he perceives the form of the principal part of the gardens resolve itself into a kind of long quadrangle, formed by four colonnades which enclose an open space with trees, called the Grove. On his right extends one of the colonnades, some three hundred feet long, with an arched Gothic roof, where the groins are marked by lines of lamps, shedding a yellow golden light, and the pendants by single crimson lamps of a larger size at the intersections. The effect of this arrangement is most superb. Near the eye, the lines or groins appear singly, showing their purpose; farther off they grow closer and closer, till at some distance the entire vista beyond appears one rich blaze of radiance. In front the visitor looks across one of the shorter ends of the quadrangle, illuminated in a different but still more magnificent manner by a chandelier of great size, formed of coloured lamps, and by various smaller chandeliers. Still standing in the same place (at the door of entrance), and looking across the interior of the quadrangle called the Grove, midway is seen the lofty orchestra, glittering all over with the many-coloured light diffused from innumerable lamps. This was erected in 1735, and has itself many interesting memories attached to it. Beneath that vast shell which forms the roof or sounding-board of the orchestra many of our greatest vocalists and performers have poured forth their strains to the delight of the crowded auditory in frontSignor and Signora Storace, Mrs. Billington, Miss Tyrer (now Mrs. Liston), Incledon, Braham, and a host of others, at once rise to the memory. The Grove is illuminated not only by the reflected light from the colonnades on either side and by the orchestra, but by festoons of lamps, gracefully undulating along the sides of the colonnades from one end to the other. Among the other attractions of the Grove, we find immediately we step into it some beautiful plaster casts from the antique, the light colour of which forms a fine contrast with