for me to do justice to this scientific exhibition, you will let me off with an extract from the London Morning Chronicle, the fashionable paper of the day, which is very particular in noticing these rencontres for the amusement of ladies and gentlement of ton. Thus it runs- The interest excited in England to see a boxing-match, may be judged from the fact that in a late contest between Randal and Martin for three hundred guineas a side, it was calculated there were not less than ten thousand persons assembled, among whom, says the account, were many persons of apparent respectability. The interior of the circle formed by the carriages was excessively crowded, and on being beat out formed a line eight feet deep. The first ranks were, according to pugilistic law, forced to sit down, the second rank to kneel, the third to stoop, and the remainder made the best shift they could to take a bird's-eye view through the interstices which were left between the heads of those who stood before them. The fight lasted about seven minutes and a half, Martin lying, like a lump of clay, lifeless. The force of the blows he received upon the neck is suppos. ed to have produced a temporary apoplexy. Thousands of guineas were bet upon the event of this battle. One gentleman lost five thousand pounds, and another eighteen hundred guineas.'

"The battle I saw was not one of such high fashion, and was fought for a gallon of beer a side. The parties appeared to be very expert at pommeling, however; and the fight, agreeably to a stop-watch, held by a well-dressed person, who appeared equally interested and delighted with the spectacle, lasted twenty-five minutes and fifteen seconds. In the conclusion, one of the parties was beat stone blind; and, to use a knowing phrase of my friend with the stop-watch, "distil

led claret plentifully from his ears and nostrils." I never saw such a beastly inhuman sight. The poor wretch who was beaten was carried off amidst the hisses of those who had bet and lost money upon him, while the conqueror was greeted with more heartfelt applauses, than ever fell to the lot of Lord Wellington, or even "the greatest and most beloved monarch England ever saw." It being sabbath-day, however, I understood their enthusiasm was somewhat repressed by the fear of magisterial interference. By the way, nothing can equal the sensitive delicacy of an Englishman's feelings, when in a foreign country. His humanity shrinks from every exhibition which has become a part of the national taste, while his religious feelings are outraged by every thing he has not been used to at home. The very newspapers and magazines which record without blushing these instances of English ferocity, will exclaim with infinite and self-sufficient satisfaction at the profanation of the sabbath in France, where, instead of drinking and fighting on Sunday, the lower orders of the people go to the public gardens, to hear music, drink a little lemonade, and exercise themselves in dancing. Those little Sunday fêtes, in which, after church, the people recreate themselves, in a thousand innocent amusements, wherein neither public decency nor public morals are violated, are considered by honest John Bull infinitely worse than drunkenness and fighting, although a stranger, who has visited both countries, without prejudice in favour of either, must acknowledge, that even music and dancing are preferable to drunkenness and debauchery, their substitutes here. Nothing, in fact, can present a more complete contrast than the lively Parisians, gay, yet not noisy and turbulent, walking in groups, or dancing in sprightly parties, or witnessing some

little exhibition in the public gardens on Sunday afternoon, and the stupid intoxication or roaring ferocity of a party of labouring Londoners, who are prohibited by law from being either gay or happy on Sunday. It used to be one of my favourite pleasures to visit the garden of Tivoli, where the people of Paris on Sunday were sporting among roses and honeysuckles, enjoying a thousand wholesome exercises, and refreshing themselves in little bowers with ice and lemonade. Sometimes I used to ramble as far as Près Saint Germain, where immense crowds from the city fesorted for air and exercise; and where lilies, roses, and vines, and shepherds and their sheep, and little purling streams and shady woods, all contributed to form a scene calculated to soften the heart, and wean it for a moment at least from the passions and seductions of a great city. I never saw a drunken man at any of those places, nor any battle except between two lap-dogs, nor any indecency of any kind. Yet have I stood and laughed in spite of me to see a John Bull amateur of boxing Sabbath parties, contemplating these scenes, shrugging his shoulders, and stuffing his self-conceit with comparisons to the advantage of English decorum.

66

I cannot better illustrate this distinguishing feature of the English character, than by relating a singular circumstance connected with this battle, of which I gave you a sketch just now. A few days after this affair took place, I happened to light on a Picture of Madrid, as it was called, communicated by an English traveller to the editor of a London literary paper, and by him published. In this, of course, the bull-fights were introduced, for the purpose of giving John Bull an opportunity of pluming himself on his superior humanity. The following passage is most material to my purpose.

After various preliminaries, the writer proceeds"Half a squadron of chasseurs on horseback, having at their head the Alcalde with two Alguazils, in the ancient Spanish costume, clear the circus of the people who had hitherto thronged it. The Picadores in their half Moorish dresses, the Banderilleroes in the magnificent Moorish costume, and the proud Motadores enter the lists. The barriers are opened, and the savage bull rushes in. But excuse me from describing the sanguinary scene which now ensues. More than once have I averted my eyes from the revolting sight; and I can explain why the word murder excites no horror in a Spaniard; he utters it a thousand times with sensations of the highest satisfaction and pleasure." I was much pleased with the humanity of this writer, till I accidentally discovered him to be the identical gentleman with the stop-watch, who enjoyed the spilling of the claret" at the boxing-match with such singular zest! Nobody on the face of the earth could have persuaded this philanthropist, that setting bulls and dogs fighting was quite as respectable amusement as doing the like with men; or that an Alcalde and a company of soldiers were quite as humanely employed in keeping order at a bull fight, as in shooting unarmed people at Cumberland Gate, or cutting them to pieces at Manchester."

66

Sunday is a great day all over England for beating drums and parading soldiers. Almost every town has a body of troops in or near it, to keep the people in subjection to this happy government. These are almost invariably drawn out on Sunday, either for the purpose of overawing the people, and preventing insurrections in the peaceful village churches, or to give the rural lasses an opportunity of falling in love with the fine red coats. Of consequence, the Sabbath, instead of being a

day of peace, piety, and innocent relaxation, is perpetually disturbed with the beating of drums, and the clattering of horses' hoofs. You know I am not much given to canting, but still I reverence the Sabbath sufficiently, to regret that the paraphernalia of war should thus perpetually intrude where devotion should remain sacred and undisturbed by rolling drums and glittering guns. On these occasions I could not help calling to mind a passage of an old book--" They were happy days, when your captain was a poor, lean, humble thing, and the soldier tame, and durst not come within the city for fear of a whipping-post."

If a stranger wishes to see how the people of fashion spend their Sunday mornings, that is to say, from two till five in the afternoon, he should go to Hyde Park. Here he will see Corinthians, fine ladies, and sons of aspiring cits, galloping, galloping, galloping; and trotting, trotting, trotting, in one eternal "never-ending and still beginning" circle, admiring themselves and envying each other. The great pleasure arising from this pretty variety of round and round, seems to be the stupid admiration of the commonalty, who stare at these great ones, and decide upon the claims of each rider, horse, and equipage. It is impossible to describe the vast variety of extravagance exhibited on these occasions, or the whimsical diversity of riders and equipages. This exhibition of vanity continues, till it is time to go home and dress for dinner, to a good appetite for which, half the lives of the young Corinthians are devoted.

The state of religion in every country is also pretty clearly indicated by the manners and morals of the clergy. If instances of frivolity, indecorum, and servility occur frequently among them, it is pretty certain they are not properly impressed