relli Gallery" has beautiful landscapes by this painter. In the centre of the room is a curious bed, sent to the Queen by the Grand Mogul. It has a mosqueto net over it, of the finest lace, embroidered with gold.

The ball-room is superb, the walls gilded, and hung with crimson satin.

The grand dining-room, called the "Waterloo Room," is hung around with portraits of the kings of England, of Nicholas of Russia, of Richelieu, of Humboldt, of Wellington, of Metternich, of Blucher, of Walter Scott. Many of these paintings are by Sir Thomas Lawrence.

One of our kind friends had obtained permission for us to visit the private apartments of the Queen. These are delightful rooms, luxuriously and tastefully furnished, with that charming home-look of comfort which seemed to pervade all English houses, from the palace of the sovereign to the humble abode of the artisan. In one of the corridors, amid many objects of vertú, I was exceedingly interested by the pictures of Canaletto. Venice appeared absolutely before us, with its palaces, bridges, churches, and gondolas. The coloring is peculiar and exquisite. In these apartments we saw the painting which represents the Coronation of Queen Victoria, and other scenes illustrative of great events in her life. There were two immense vases, presented by the Emperor of Russia; one of Malachite, and the other of China. The breakfast room was hung with tapestry, and was a most sunny, pleasant room.

After seeing the kitchen, and the royal plate for the table, we went to the stables, where numerous horses were neatly housed, and particularly cared for. A true Arabian, called Azor, sent to her Majesty by the Pasha of Egypt, was a perfect beauty. There were carriages and sleds, from various crowned heads, and vast curiosities in horse decorations.

From the Great Round Tower, or Keep, there is a view of unusual loveliness. The Thames is seen, winding among towns and villages, farm-houses and elegant mansions. An excellent view is also obtained of the Castle itself, of the parks, the gardens, and of Windsor forest, once so famous. Then there is the Long Walk, an avenue of trees, several miles in length. These trees are mostly of oak, and appear many centuries old.

From the Terrace there is likewise an entrancing view. I no longer wondered that her Majesty preferred a residence here to Buckingham Palace.

A short drive brought us through the great park to beautiful Virginia Water. The artillery from the camp of Cobham were crossing it upon pontoons. These were afterwards arranged as rafts for the passage of the foot-soldiers. It was a scene of gay and animated life. The camp of Cobham was a barren, brown plain, with multitudes of tents, and soldiers in all varieties of uniforms.

Near Windsor Castle is "Eton Hall," long a celebrated College. And not far off is a church entirely o'ershadowed by immense elms and yew trees, where we were told Gray wrote his "Elegy in a Country Churchyard." This elegy, always touching to the heart, is particularly so to us Americans, as the last words uttered by our great Webster were taken from this poem

"The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

We returned by the railway to London, and joined a most charming party at Virey's in Regent street, where we dined; thence drove to the Opera House, to hear Grisi in Norma.

It was a gala night; for the Queen was present, accompanied by the King and Queen of Hanover, the Crown

Prince and Princess of Prussia. The boxes were thronged with the aristocracy of the land-the ladies in full dress, sparkling with jewels, and the gentlemen in ball costume. Every portion of this immense theatre was filled, and rarely have I beheld a more magnificent spectacle.

For the first time I saw Grisi. Were she not a singer, she would be one of the greatest tragic actresses of the age. Nature seems to have made her for the part of Norma. Her face is full of classic beauty, with wondrous eyes, so large, so lustrous-she speaks with them. I thought of the words of the old Spanish poet

"Lend me thine eyes, Inez,

That I may strike him dead."

When the truth of Pollio's abandonment first possesses. her soul, and she turns upon him a look of such intense scorn, he absolutely appeared to wither beneath it. She was grand and superb. The whole house was electrified by her irresistible power, her peerless acting, and loud applause rang out again and again.

In the opening scene, where she sings "Casta Diva,” I was disappointed in her voice. There seemed a veil cast over it by the hand of Time, which one would fain remove. But when she became the loving and the jealous woman, when her proud heart swelled with the certainty of her lover's faithlessness, the tones of her voice were clear, thrilling, and delicious.

Mario was admirable, and Castellan, as Adelgisa, most charming. She has a delightfully pure and sweet voice.

After Norma we heard "Rigoletto," a new opera, by Verdi. Many portions of the music are exquisite. There is a strain of melody which runs through it like a golden thread through a silken woof. The opera, in point of plot,

MARY HOWITT-KOSSUTH.

69

is one of those dark and painful dramas, leaving a sad feeling upon the heart.

July 15th.-We have enjoyed the satisfaction of making the acquaintance of Mrs. Mary Howitt and her daughter. I brought them a letter from a dear American friend, and have been most cordially received. They reside at the Hermitage, Highgate, and our drive there was very pleasant.

Mary Howitt, as the friend and translator of the works of dear Miss Bremer, possessed for me at our first meeting great attraction, and afterwards, for herself, I truly admired her. She is a delightful, frank, genial woman; quiet and graceful in manner, and exceedingly interesting in conversation.

Her daughter, Anna Mary, is a lovely girl, an authoress, and an excellent artist. She has a sweet lisping voice, and most endearing ways, which captivate one immediately. William Howitt is in Australia with his sons.

We drove to Alpha Road to visit Kossuth. After much difficulty we found his house, but he was absent seeking a physician, as Madame Kossuth was dangerously ill. He seems to live in the plainest and most humble manner. How unjustly false were all those stories told of him—that he had appropriated the means raised for the cause of Hungary to himself, and was living in luxury. All the money was left in America, with or in the hands of a committee. Kossuth supports himself and his family entirely by the use of his pen. Pulzky and his gifted wife also live in

London.

A charming friend accompanied me this morning to call upon Lady Morgan, who, as the authoress of the " Wild Irish Girl," had been long my especial admiration. We found her en grande toilette, just departing for a "matinée musi

cale." She kindly tarried awhile, and we made a most pleasant visit. She is a remarkable woman, preserving still the vivacity of youth.

Last night we were again at the opera to hear the same admirable artists in "Lucia di Lammermuir," and thence to the mansion of the Countess of Jersey to a brilliant ball. It was a superb assemblage of the beautiful and high-born women of England.

The Countess of Jersey has a noble presence and most commanding air. She is graceful and elegant in manner and gesture; the loveliest of all here, as at Buckingham Palace, at the ball, was Lady Clementina Villars. Her features are as perfect as those of "the statue that doth enchant the world; " and, although she is pale, she is strikingly handsome.

Even with the fear of Mrs. Malaprop before me, I must say there is more beauty among American women than I have seen in the Old World. I have met many indeed who are of great loveliness, but generally they have not the delicacy of form and feature seen with us. Upon entering a room in London, the first exclamation will be, "what fine, robust, healthy women these are!" They seem to enjoy life much more than our women, and are capable of greater exertion in the pursuits of literature and of art. They spend many hours in the open air, walking and riding, or driving. They have an independent, self-poised manner, which is absolutely delightful. They are excellently well educated, and yet the most unpretentious persons I ever saw. They are always ready to be useful, to be hospitable, and to be kind.

But to return to the ball. It was splendid. The supper was magnificent, and the hours passed most charmingly to