CHAPTER XVI.

"Full many shapes that shadows were."

COLERIDGE.

"These forms of beauty have not been to me
As is a landscape in a blind man's eye;
But oft in lonely rooms, and mid the din
Of crowds and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart,
And passing even unto my purer mind
With tranquil restoration."

WORDSWORTH.

It is not of much use making up your mind very positively, for it is a thousand chances whether you ever do exactly what you intended. The Mandevilles had resolved to pass through London as quickly as possible; but once there, unavoidable business prolonged their stay. This, to Emily at least, was very delightfulfor the morning following her dining with Mrs. Trefusis, Edward Lorraine came to breakfast. One great peculiarity in a woman's attachment

is, its entire concentration in the present. Whatever she was engaged in, if Edward was present, was the most delightful thing in the world. And, moreover, it was very satisfactory to hear him reiterate his intention of joining them in Italy. Besides, this wilderness of brick was still all novelty and amusement to one who knew so little of it.

Among the many universal propensities in human nature, the love of sight-seeing is about as universal as any. Now, sight-seeing gratifies us in different ways. First, there is the pleasure of novelty; secondly, either that of admiration or fault-finding-the latter a very animated enjoyment. London against the world for spectacles; and yet it is a curious fact, that those who live among sights are those who go the least to see them. A genuine Londoner is the most incurious animal in nature. Divide your acquaintance into two parts; the one set will never have seen Westminster Abbey the other will be equally ignorant of St. Paul's. That which is always within our reach is always the last thing we take; and the chances are, that what we can do every day, we never do at all.

Emily, who came up with all the curiosity

of the country, would have liked to have seen much more than she did; but young ladies are like the pieces of looking-glass let into chiffonniers and doorways-only meant to reflect the actions of others.

"Very well," said Lady Mandeville, in answer, one day, to a wish she was expressing; "when we are at Rome we will study architecture there you may explore the Colosseum; but to go on a course of amusing and instructive rambles' through London !-pray leave that to the good little books you read in your childhood."

Emily was silenced. One evening, however, Mr. Morland, who was one of the governors of the British Institution, proposed their going to see the gallery lighted up. Lady Mandeville agreed; and Emily was all smiles a little brightened, perhaps, because Lorraine was to join their party.

The effect on entrance is very striking: a crowd, where the majority are females, with gay-coloured dresses, and their heads unbonneted, always gives the idea of festival: figures animated with motion, and faces with expression, are in such strong contrast to the beautiful but moveless creations on the wall.

At first all is pleasant confusion-all catches, and nothing fixes the eye-and the exclamation is as general as the gaze; but, as in all other cases, general admiration soon became individual—and Emily was very ready to pause in delight before Lorraine's favourite pictures. Whether their selection might have pleased Mr. Morland, who was a connoisseur, admits of a question-for the taste of the young is very much matter of feeling.

"Is not this little picture a proof of the truth of my assertion the other morning, that a glance out of a window was enough to annihilate a cavalier's peace of mind for a twelvemonth?"

It was 66 a lovely female face of seventeen". the beauty of a coquette rather than that of a heroine-a coquette, though, of nature's making. She leant on the casement, some gathered flowers in her hand, speaking well for the simple and natural taste that loved them; the face downcast, and pensive; the long lash resting almost on the cheek, with the inward look of its dreaming mood.

"There is something very suspicious in its present seriousness. It is to be doubted whether the lover (there is a lover unquestionably in

the case) will not have the softened affection of to-day visited on his head in the double caprice of to-morrow."

"A Dutch Girl, by Newton.'* Calumniated people!" exclaimed Lorraine;" and yet calumniated they deserve to be: instead of quarrelling among themselves, what patriotic phraseology is best suited to a newspaper, they ought to be voting the Golden Fleece' to Mr. Newton, for thus redeeming their share of female fascination."

The next was a "Florentine Girl, by Howard;" -a dark and passionate beauty of the Southlarge black eyes, that turned all they touched into poetry-flowing luxuriant ringlets, that were confined but with jewels, and knew no ruder air than that of palaces with a lute,

whose gentle science answered the chivalric songs of the brave and high-born.

"These two portraits seem to me,” observed Lorraine, to realise two sweet extremes of

* I have here taken what, I trust, will not exceed an author's allowed, poetical license. The British Gallery is only lighted up during the exhibition of the old masters. My excuse is, that I could think of something to say about the moderns; while I had nothing to remark touching the ancients.