ing manner
upward to the orchestra. In the intervals between the dances he walks up
and down the room in an abstract and poetic manner, and Melancholy marks
him for her own. You believe in the doctrine of metamorphoses as you
look at him. He is a star fallen upon evil days. Beneath that faultless
black dress-coat there lies the soul of a Beau Brummel or a Nash. Well,
then, may there be a tinge of sadness on his cheek, and a cloud upon his
brow. But let us leave him awhile and look about us. What a noble room!
we shall not see a finer one in London. At one end is a gallery; at the
other a raised platform with very comfortable seats and tables. All
round the room are illustrations of oriental scenery, and over the bar is
the orchestra. But the place is not so crowded as we might expect, and
the visitors are quieter than in the casinos of the West; the men and
women are most of them much younger,--the men, many of them, have an
exceedingly juvenile appearance, and think it fine to dance with young
ladies of uncertain occupations, and to drink brandy-and-water and smoke
cigars; but they have yet to cut their wisdom-teeth. As Thackeray says,

"Pretty page with the dimpled chin,
That never has known the barber's shear,
All your wish is woman to win;
This is the way that boys begin,--
Wait till you come to forty year."

Come here in the summer-time, and the attendance is then numerous; and of
a Sunday evening, on the lawn before the Barn, or in the bowers and
alcoves by its side, what vows have been uttered only to be broken; and
what snares have been set for youth, and beauty, and innocence; and how
many have come here with gay hearts who have left with them bruised
beyond the power of man to heal! Even in this room itself, what changes
have been wrought by the magic hand of time! Where are the Finsbury
radicals--all beery and Chartist, who here dined; the demagogues who
duped them, the hopes they cherished, the promises they made? One after
another have the bubbles burst, have the leaders palpably become shams,
have the people woke up to disappointment and despair; and yet the nation
has yet to learn that it is only by individual righteousness its
salvation can be wrought. The dancing, instead of speech-making, is a
sign of the times. Accompanied as it is by less drinking, let us hope it
is a favourable sign. Let us judge in the spirit of charity and hope.
But let us not be too sa