The length of this church is 360 feet, the nave is 72 feet in breadth, and the part which forms the cross is 195.  The arches are gothic architecture.  In order to take the most advantageous view of the inside, you must enter at the west door, when the whole body of the church presents itself at once to the view.

This abbey contains a great number of curiosities, and any one may see them on paying six-pence.  There are persons always attending to shew and explain them.

This vast structure is surrounded with a wall, upon which is fixed the most magnificent ballustrade of cast iron, that there is perhaps in the world. This enclosure has several beautiful iron gates, the materials of which, with the railing, weight upwards of 200 tons.

On entering the church by the west door, its magnificence appears to the greatest advantage. The vaulted roof which is supported by lofty and massy pillars, divides the building into the body and two ailes, and the view is terminated by the altar, which is at the extremity of the choir.

The first stone of this sumptuous and magnificent building, was laid June the 21st, 1675. The work was continued at the expence of the nation, amounting in the whole to near 750,000l and in 1701, the stupendous fabrick was compleated, under the inspection of that great architect Sir Christopher Wren.

For one shilling each person, every part of the church may be seen, even to the ball. At the north door, proper people are always in attendance for the purpose of shewing it. The view of London from the dome of this cathedral, affords a prospect that baffles all description.

A Table of the Dimensions of this Church [edited for clarity]

The whole length of the church and portico - 500ft

Breadth within the doors of the porticos - 250ft
Of the front with the turrets - 180ft
Of the church and 3 naves - 130ft

The exterior diameter of the dome - 145ft
The interior diameter of it - 100ft
Of the church and 3 naves - 130ft

The height from the ground to the top of the cross - 340ft
The height of the dome and lanthorn from the cornice of the front to the top of the turrets - 230ft
The height of the turrets - 222ft
To the top of the highest statues on the front - 135ft
Height of the lanthorn from the cupola to the ball - 50ft
Height of the ball - 8ft
Height of the cross, pedestal and base - 29ft
Height of the statues of the front with their pedestals - 15ft
Height of the niches in the front - 14ft
Height of the first windows in the front - 13ft

The extent of the ground plot on which the church of St. Paul’s stands, is two acres, 16 perches, 23 yards, and 1 foot.

In this street, on the right hand, is the church of St. Mary-le-bow, whose steeple is, perhaps, one of the most elegant in Europe.  It is composed of the five orders of architecture, and is 235 feet in height.

The bishops are consecrated in this church.

There is also, a noble statue in marble of William Beckford, who died during his second mayoralty in 1770, and a superb monument to William Pitt, earl of Chatham, which was erected in the year 1782.

This edifice serves also for the election of the lord mayors, sheriffs, members of parliament, &c. and here is held the courts of justice for the jurisdiction of the city.

This magnificent building cost £42,638. 18s. 8d. but the whole is heavy, and placed in a very injudicious as well as inconvenient situation.

The interior part of the area is surrounded by an arcade, which serves as a kind of a mercantile promenade, and to shelter the merchants at the times of their assembling, from the inclemency of the weather.  In the intercolumnation there are 24 niches, twenty of which are filled with statues of the kings of England.

In this place the merchants, &c. &c. meet every day between the hours of twelve and three.  One sees at that time, as it were in miniature, the four quarters of the world assembled.

The Bank was founded in 1694, and that administration of it is under the direction of a governor, a deputy governor, and twenty-four directors.  The vast wealth and credit of this bank, is known throughout the world.  The hours of business are from nine in the morning, to five in the afternoon.  Holidays excepted.

This conflagration was succeeded by a war, and the plague, but notwithstanding these calamities, London was rebuilt in a very few years, and is now become the largest and most magnificent town in Europe.

This pillar is 202 feet in height, and from the top, affords a most delightful prospect on all sides, &c.

The machine, which occupies a part of it, and furnishes the neighbouring quarter of the city with water, merits attention.

The business of the custom-house is under the direction of nine commissioners, whose jurisdiction also extends over all the ports of the kingdom.

At present the Tower is a repository for the national archives, a mint for coining money, a magnificent armoury, the jewel office, which contains the royal regalia, and other apartments furnished with various objects of curiosity.

The wild beasts are generally visited the first, as their situation presents itself on entering the outer gate.

At the principal gate of the Tower, a yeoman of the guard receives the curious visitors, and accompanies them to all the different places which are worthy of their attention.

The different prices to be paid for seeing the curiosities [with some edits for clarity],

The lions, each person - 6d
Train of artillery, each person - 2d
Horse armoury, each person - 3d
Spanish armoury, each person - 2d
Foot armoury, each person - 3d
Regalia, in company - 1s. 0d
Regalia, Alone - 1s. 6d

But if a single person desires to see the foot armoury, train of artillery, horse armoury, and Spanish armoury, he pays twice the price above mentioned.

All the different parts of this magnificent edifice are so admirably arranged, for containing its curious collections, that the British museum, may be considered with great justice, as an institution that does honour to the English nation.

Any number of persons not exceeding fifteen, who wish to see it, must send their names to the porter’s lodge, that they may be properly registered, and in a few days, tickets will be made out, specifying the day and hour, in which they are to be admitted.

The museum is divided into three grand departments.  The first contains the manuscripts, medals and coins; the second the national and artificial productions: and the third, the printed books, &c. without comprehending many articles, &c. in the hall, the first room above stairs, and in other chambers.

The first apartment contains two collections of manuscripts.
The royal collection.
The Cottonian collection.
The Harleian collection, I.
The Harleian collection, II.
The Harleian collection of charters, acts of parliaments, &c. &c., III.
Sir Hans Sloane’s collection.

The second division contains natural and artificial productions.
Sir Hans Sloane’s collection.
Egyptian antiquities.
Etruscan antiquities.
Roman antiquities.
Antiquities of various kinds.
American idols.
Flints, agates, and cornelians.
Jaspers.
Apyri, sulphurs, &c.
Minerals, &c.
Vegetables, fruits, woods.
Reptiles, amphibious animals, serpents.

The last chamber of this apartment, is filled with the productions of art, arranged in cabinets.

The last division of the whole is, that which contains the printed books.
Major Edward’s library.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, I.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, II.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, III.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, IV.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, V.
Sir Hans Sloane’s library, VI.
King’s library, I.
King’s library, II.

This magnificent edifice was built in 15 months, and cost £17,000—It is 540 feet long by 40 broad and contains a great number of convenient cells for its unfortunate inhabitants, who are maintained there without any charge to their friends, but the article of bedding.

The building consists of two wings, which are separated by a vast oblong court.—It contains two thousand invalid sailors and officers; though its funds are charged with certain salaries to keep five thousand out-pensioners.—The chambers are kept extremely clean, and do not possess any thing like the appearance of poverty.  The invalids have clean linen twice a week, and a small allowance in money.—They are served on tables of marble, with cleanliness and comfort.—The stair-case is handsome, and geometrically constructed.

The chapel is large, and elegantly decorated.

The royal hall opposite the chapel, is painted by Sir James Thornhill, who has there displayed the triumphs of Great-Britain.

A certain number of the children of sailors who have died in the service of their country, receive a marine education at the expence of the hospital.

Upon the hill in the park is the royal observatory, and is the best furnished with astronomical instruments of any in Europe.

Greenwich is situate on the banks of the Thames, about seven miles from London.

This edifice was begun by Charles II. continued by James II. and finished by William III.  It is a noble brick building; and in the centre of the court is a pedestrian statue of Charles II.  The gardens are charming, well kept, and watered by the Thames.  This building was erected according to the plan of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul’s.—It is admired very much for its great regularity, and an happy subordination of its parts.—It cost £150,000 and the whole extent of its situation is upwards of forty acres.—The Invalids are provided with cloaths, provisions, washing, lodgings, &c.

In the same village is the Botanic Garden belonging to the Apothecaries Company, which was first established by Sir Hans Sloane; and well merits the attention of the curious.

   Oh, pleasing talk, to paint the ripen'd charms
   Of youth untutor'd in the female arts;
   To see instinctively desire blaze out,
   And warm the mind with all its burning joys.
   The tell-tale eyes in liquid pools sustain'd,
   The throbbing breast now rising, now suppress't;
   The thrilling bliss quick darting thro' the frame,
   The short fetch'd sighs, the snow white twining limbs,
   The sudden gush, and the extatic oh.

SUCH our all pleasing L—st—r leads the train, and, smiling like the morn, unfolds her heaven of beauties. Oh, for a Guido's touch, or Thomson's thought, to paint the richness of her unequall'd charms; every perfection that can possibly adorn the face and mind of Woman seem centered in this be- witching girl; hither resort then, ye genuine lovers of beauty and good sense; here, whilst Plutus reigns, may you revel nor know satiety; here feast the longing appetite, and return with fresh vigor to every attack. Now arrived at the tempting age of nineteen, her imagination is filled with every luscious idea, refined sensibility, and fierce desire can unite, her form is majestic, tall, and elegant; her make truly genteel, her complexion

   ———As April's lily fair,
   And blooming as June's brightest rose.

Painted by the masterly hand of nature, shaded by tresses of the darkest brown, and enlivened by two stars that swim in all the essence of unsatiated love.

   Her pouting lips distil nectarious balm,
   And thro' the frame its thrilling transports dart;

which, when parted, display a casket of snow white pearls, ranged in the nicest regularity, the neighbouring hills below full ripe for manual pressure, firm, and elastic, and heave at every touch. The Elysian font, in the centre of a black be- witching grove, supported by two pyramids white as alabaster, very delicate, and soft as turtle's down. At the approach of their favourite lord unfold, and for three guineas he is conducted to this harbour of never failing delight. Add to all this, she sings well, is a very chearful companion, and has only been, in life nine months.

(pp. 15-17)

   No time shall pass without that dear delight,
   I'll talk of love all day, and act it all the night;
   Pleasure and I as to one goal design'd,
   Will run with equal pace, while sorrow lays behind.

Those who choose to sail the island of love in a first rate ship, or to enclose an armful of delight, must be pleased with this lady; who, tho' only seventeen and short, is very fat and corpulent; yet, notwithstanding, she is a fine piece of frailty; her face is handsome and her her nut brown locks, which are placed above and below, promise a luscious treat to the voluptuary. Her temper is agreeable and pleasing, and she is so far from being mercenary, that a single guinea is the boundage of her wish.

(pp. 17-18)

   Close in the arms she languishingly lies,
   With dying looks, short breath, and wishing eyes.

This accomplished nymph has just attained her eighteenth year, and fraught with every perfection, enters a volunteer in the field of Venus. She plays on the piano forte, sings, dances, and is mistress of every Manoeuvre in the amorous contest that can enhance the coming pleasure; is of the middle stature, fine auburn hair, dark eyes, and very inviting countenance, which ever seems to beam delight and love. In bed she is all the heart can wish, or eye admire, every limb is symmetry, every action under cover truly amorous; her price is two pounds two.

(p. 18)

   And all these joys insatiably to prove,
   With which rich beauty feasts the glutton love.

The raven coloured tresses of Miss J—ns—n are pleasing, and are characteristics of strength and ability in the wars of Venus. Indeed this fair one is not afraid of work, but will undergo a great deal of labour in the action; she sings, dances, will drink a chearful glass, and is a good companion. She has such a noble elasticity in her loins, that she can cast her lover to a pleasing height, and receive him again with the utmost dexterity. Her price is one pound one, and for her person and amorous qualifications she is well worth the money.

(p. 19)

   She darted from her eyes a side long glance
   Just as she spoke, and, like her words, it flew,
   Seem'd not to beg, what yet she bid to do.

This young nymph of fifteen is short, of a dark complexion, and inclinable to be lusty; she does not rely on chamber practice only, for she takes her evening excursions to seek for clients, who may put their case to her either in a tavern or her own apartments; her fee is from a crown to half a guinea, and she strives to earn her money by seeming to be agreeable; however, she may please some, and as we have only known her about four months she cannot have lost her appetite, but seems particularly fond of the sport.

(pp. 19-20)

   Close in the arms she languishingly lies,
   With dying looks, short breath, and swimming eyes.

To all lovers of carrots we would recommend this fair complex, and blue ey'd nymph; she is now steering into the nineteenth year, and has very little of the vulgarity too often found in the sisterhood, but would be rather silent than speak nonsense: the mere sensualist will not find her quite to his fancy, but she will please the delicate and sensible, who can spend the dull pause of joy with her agreeably, till call'd by nature to repetition; in which, as well as in conservation, we are informed she is equally charming.

(pp. 20-21)

   Her look serene does purest softness wear,
   Her face exclaims her fairest of the fair.

This lady borrows her name from her late keeper, who is now gone to the India's, and left her to seek support on the wide common of independence; she is now just arrived at the zenith of perfection, devoid of art and manners, as yet untutor'd by fashion, her charms have for their zest every addition youth and simplicity can add. She has beauty without pride, elegance without affectation, and innocence without dissimulation; and not knowing how long this train of perfections will last, we would advise our reader to make hay whilst the sun shines.

(p. 21)

   Her every glance, like Jove's vindictive flame,
   Shoot thro' the veins, and kindle all the frame.

A peculiar elegance in make and taste in dressing distinguishes this daughter of love; her shape is remarkably genteel, and her figure good; she sings a good song and is a chearful bon companion; her complexion is fair, her eyes, though grey, exceedingly melting, and seem to speak the disposition of the parts below very forcibly, and if you would wish to find a good bed-fellow, tho' not blest with every other perfection, this lady will perhaps suit her price, which is two pounds two.

(p. 22)

  The glow of youth, the fire of wanton love,
  Sport in her eye, and rouse the sensual heart
  To strong desires unmanageable pitch.

So universally known, and so great a fav'rite with the bucks is this lady, that her description is almost needless; her eyes and hair are of the most inviting darkness, her temper and disposition good, and her mind replete with the choicest gifts of Minerva; her figure is elegant, she is very tall, sings and dances to perfection, and has only been in a public way of life twelve months; for a single skirmish she does not refuse the King's smallest picture, but for a whole night's siege expects three of the largest.

(pp. 22-23)

  If women were as little as they are good,
  A peas cod would make them a gown and a hood.

A pretty, little, lively, fair complexioned girl, with a dainty leg and foot, and as pretty a pair of pouting bubbies as ever went against a man's stomach, and one who well deserves the attention that is paid her by every man capable of knowing her value. She is pleasing, though fond, and can make wantonness delightful; every part assists to bring on the momentary delirium, and then each part combines to raise up the fallen member, to contribute again to repeated rapture; her price is commonly two guineas, but if a man is clever, she is very ready to make some abatement.

(pp. 23-24)

  ——————Lilting o'er the lea,
  Ye're welcomer to take me, than to let me be.

She is tall and fair, of a striking figure, and amiable in conversation, perfectly complying with the desires of her enamorato's: she is said, like the river Nile, frequently to overflow, but somehow or another her inundations differ from those of that river, as they do not produce foecundity, some skilful gardeners are of opinion that she drowns the seed, which is the reason that it does not take root. This, is a disagreeable circumstance to those who may wish not to till in vain; but to others who would prefer the pleasure without the expensive consequences, she is the more desirable, as they are sure that all who bathe in her Castalian spring, will be overwhelmed with a flood of delight.

(p. 24)

Fast lock'd in her arms,
And enjoying her charms,
Every frown of old care I'll defy;
Give desire such a loose,
That the all potent Juice,
Shall pervade ev'ry sense, and swim in each [e]ye.

Birmingham lays claim to the birth of this daughter of love, and, under the care and protection of an indulgent father and mother, she reached her fifteenth year 'pure and unsullied;' at this period nature began to be very busy with Nancy, and a strong propensity for seeing Life, compelled her to leave her parents and enter into servitude, and being particularly attached to the sons of Neptune, she chose for her master a sea captain, whose name she still prefers to any other. A twelve month had not elapsed in the captain's service before our charmer's feelings had reached their highest pitch, and the captain, blest with a keen appetite, after a six months voyage, with little persuasion, opened her port hole, cleared her gangway, and threw her virtue overboard. He grew strongly attached to her, and, being a man rather advanced in years, became contented and happy, nor wished for any other but his dear Nancy. She was his own, and he was all she at that time wished or desired for; one or two little prattlers were pledges of their mutual regard, and till the day of the captain's death they lived 'the happy pair.' It is near two years since she lost her friend, by whose death she receives a little annuity, that will ever keep her from the necessity of parading the streets merely for support, and you are certain to meet with her at home at almost any hour of the day; in the evening the generally visits one of the Theatres, and always sits in the side boxes, in which place she contrives to chuse her spark, and if possible to take him home with her (for she never sleeps out,) where he will meet with snug comfortable apartments, civility, good humour, and a very engaging partner, whilst she continues good humoured; if he uses any language or behaviour to ruffle her temper, she can act the Virago as well as most of her sex. She is rather below mediocrity in size, with dark hair, flowing in ringlets down her back, languishing grey eyes, and a very tolerable complexion, and a pair of pretty little firm bubbies. Her leg and foot is particularly graceful, always ornamented with a white silk stocking, and a neat shoe; she is a loving bed-fellow, and sincerely attaches herself to the enjoyment, feels the thrilling sensation with poignancy, and for one guinea will enjoy you as many times as you please.

N. B. She keeps the house, and you must not mention to her a syllable concerning her pretty lodger above, if you wish to be calm below.

(pp. 25-27)

   For lips to lips, and Tongue to Tongue,
   Will make a man of sixty young.

Yes, 'tis Harriet, the fair, still blooming Harriet, whose eyes are molded for the tender union of souls (let them but borrow a little fire from Bacchus) 'by Heaven's, shoot Suns' whose nectar-distilling lips pour sweetest balm; whilst the soft silent lingual intercourse shoots powerfully through all the frame, and awakes each dormant sense. When naked she is certainly Thomson's Lavinia.

             For loveliness,
   Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
   But is, when unadorned, adorned the most.

A beautiful black fringe borders the Venetian Mount, and whether she pursues the Grahamatic method from a practical knowledge of its increase of pleasure, from motives of cleanliness, or as a certain preventative we will not pretend to say; but we well know it makes her the more desirable bed-fellow, and after every stroke gives fresh tone and vigour to the lately distended parts; her legs and feet claim her peculiar attention, nor do their coverings ever disgrace their owner, nor their actions under cover ever do injustice to that dear delightful spot they are doomed to support, protect, and pay just obedience to; the eager twine, the almost unbearable press at the dye away moment, with all love's lesser Artillery, she plays off with uncommon activity and ardor, and drinks repetition with thirst insatiable. Half a guinea, and a new pink ribband to encircle her bewitching brows, is the least she expects for a night's entertainment. There are three or four more ladies of our order in the house, if this lady should not exactly suit.

   But being blest with beauty's potent spell,
   Must from her other sisters bear the bell.

(pp. 27-29)

   Forbidding me to follow she invites me,
   This is the mould of which I made the sex,
   I gave them but one tongue to say us nay,
   And two kind eyes to grant.

Here we present our readers with as pretty a man's woman as ever the bountiful hand of nature formed; a pair of black eyes that dart resistless fire, that speak a language frozen hearts might thaw, and stand as the sweet index to the soul; a pair of sweet pouting lips that demand the burning kiss, and never receives it without paying with interest; a complexion that would charm the eye of an anchorite; a skin smooth' as monument alabaster, and white as Alpian snow; and hair that so beautifully contrasts the skin, that nought but nature can equal. Descend a little lower and behold the semi-snow-balls.

   'Studded with role buds, and streaked with celestial blue,'

that want not the support of stays; whose truly elastic state never suffers the pressure, however severe, to remain, but boldly recovers its tempting smoothness. Next take a view of nature centrally; no folding lapel, no gaping orifice, no horrid gulph is here, but the loving lips tenderly kiss each other, and shelter from the cold a small but easily stretched passage, whose depth none but the blind boy has liberty to fathom; between the tempting lips the coral headed tip stands centinal, sheltered by a raven coloured bush, and for one half guinea conduct the well erected friend safe into port. She is a native of Oxfordshire, and has been a visitor on the town about one year, is generally to be met with at home at every hour excepting ten at night, at which time she visits a favourite gentleman of the Temple.

(pp. 29-30)

           She darted a sweet kiss,
   The wanton prelude to a farther bliss;
   Such as might kindle frozen appetite,
   And fire e'en wasted nature with delight.

She is really a fine girl, with a lovely fair complexion, a most engaging behaviour and affable disposition. She has a most consummate skill in reviving the dead; for as she loves nothing but active life, she is happy when she can restore it: and her tongue has a double charm, both when speaking and when silent; for the tip of it, properly applied, can talk eloquently to the heart, whilst no sound pervades the ear and send such feelings to the central spot, that immediately demands the more noble weapon to close the melting scene.

(p. 31)

   Oh! the transporting joy!

Impetuous flood of long-expected rapture, she is a charming black beauty; her vivid eyes, speak the liveliness of her disposition, and the joy she conceives in the hour of bliss. As yet she hath not approached the verge of satiety; she is not so hackneyed in the ways of man as to be merely passive, she enjoys the pleasure, and though she is very fond of a noun substantive that can stand by itself, yet she loves to make it fall, and indeed the stoutest man cannot stand long before her; many a fine weapon she has made a mere hanger and the most stubborn steel hath melted in her sheath; yet no one complains, but rather rejoices at the debility she produces, and wishes for repetition which she enjoys with a gou peculiar to herself, and is possessed of every amorous means to produce it, as she is of every luscious one to destroy it.—To be met with at any of the genteel houses about St. James's.

(pp. 31-32)

                                   ————Fair
   As May morning rising from the east,
   Or day dismounting from the golden west.

This young charmer is of the middle size, and the resplendent black of her lively eyes is finely contrasted by the fairness of her complexion and lightness of her hair: her teeth are good, and her temper complying. She is really a delicious piece, and her terra incognita is so very agreeable to every traveller therein, that it hath ceas'd to deserve that name, and is become a well known and much frequented country; freely taking in the stranger, raising up them that fall, making the crooked straight, and although she does not pretend to restore sight to the blind, she'll place him in such a direction that he cannot mistake the way; and for one guinea will engage he returns the same way back without any direction at all.

(pp. 32-33)

                 My heart's so full of joy,
   That I could do some wild extravagance
   Of love in public, and the foolish world,
   That knows not tenderness, might think
     me mad.

This lady is fair, of a good size, very chatty, fond of obliging, and far from being mercenary: the more agreeable her man, the less of money she expects or demands. It is true, she has other customers that make up for what she may loose by her attachments to pleasure; so that between the one and the other, she is very well off, and we prophesy will be long in vogue; we have known her only six months, and have reason to think very few has known her longer.

(pp. 33-34)

   Soft, as when the wooing dove,
      Woo's his mate in vernal bowr's,
   Is this purest child of love,
      When she her choicest treasure pours.

Here youth and beauty are combined, and unadorned by education or art; what she feels in the amorous encounter cannot be feigned. Her natural simplicity is yet so unstained, and her knowledge of the world so very little, that it is almost impossible for her to dissemble; her hair, eye-brows and eyes, are of the deepest black; her complexion of the roses red, and her neck and breasts of the purest white; her limbs are nobly formed, every joint possessing the most enchanting flexibility, which she manages with uncommon dexterity, and her Venus Mount is so nobly fortified, that she has no occasion to dread the fiercest attack, nor does she: and although she is obliged to make sudden retreats, her advances follow so very brisk, and are so effectual, that

   Whene'er she quits the field,
   Waits vice on her lovely shield.

but we must advise our lovers of the sport to keep her pleased, as her temper, a little different from another part, is not to be sported with.

(pp. 34-35)

   Like some fair flower, whose leaves all colours yield,
   And opening, is with rarest odours fill'd;
   As lofty pines o'ertop the lowly reed,
   So does her graceful height most nymphs exceed.

Miss S—ms is fair and tall, and if well paired, would be a very proper mould to cast grenadiers in; she is about twenty, and though rather above the common heighth, is not ungraceful nor awkward. She knows her value, and will seldom accept of less than two guineas, which indeed, are well bestowed. It is remarkable, that her lovers are most commonly of a diminutive size. The vanity of surmounting such a fine tall woman, is, doubtless, an incentive to many, to so unmatch themselves, that they are content to be like a sweet-bread on a breast of veal. Yet, notwithstanding her size, we hear her low countries are far from being capacious, but like a well made boot, is drawn on the leg with some difficulty, and fits so close, as to give great pleasure to the wearer; it is about two years since her boot has been accustomed to wear legs in it, and though often soaled, (sold) yet never wears out.

(pp. 35-36)

   Why should they e'er give me pain,
   Who to give me joy disdain;
   All I ask of mortal man,
   Is to ———— me whilst he can.

These four lines were not more applicable to Miss C—tl—y, than to this present reigning lover of the sport; she is rather above mediocrity in height and size, with fine dark hair, and a pair of bewitching hazel eyes; very agreeable and loving, but she is not so unreasonable as to expect constancy; it is a weak unprofitable quality in a woman, and if she can persuade her husband or keeper that she has it, it is just the same as though she really possessed it. Miss B—lt—n is conscious she loves variety, as it conduces both to her pleasure and interest; and she gives each of her gallants the same liberty of conscience, therefore she never lessens the fill of joy, by any real or affected freaks of jealousy; when her lovers come to her, they are welcome, and they are equally so when they fly to another's arms. Indeed, when they do so, it is generally to her advantage, as she finds they return to her with redoubled ardour, and her charms are in general more dear, from a comparison with others; and although her age is bordering upon twenty-four, and she has been a traveller in our path four years, her desires are not the least abated, nor does she set less value on herself.

(pp. 36-37)

   The nymphs like Nereids round her couch were plac'd,
   Where she another sea-born Venus lay;
   She lay and lean'd her cheek upon her hand,
   And cast a look fo languishingly sweet,
   As if secure of all beholders hearts,
   Neglecting she could take 'em.

This young charmer, for she is not yet past the bloom of eighteen, has so beautiful a face, that though here and there the general ravager of beauty has left his dented marks in a skin, that the finest tints of the tulip, carnation, or rose, blended with the hue of the fairest lily, cannot equal, (so vastly superior is the vermilion tinge of nature, in this her choicest and most animated work over all other) yet their effect is rather pleasing than otherwise; and perhaps have tempered a blaze of beauty, which without them would have been insupportable. Her eyes are of that colour, which the celebrated Fielding has given the heroine of his most admirable work, and which dart a lustre peculiar to themselves. From such an eye each look has power to raise

   'The loosest wishes in the chastest heart,'

and melt the soul to all the thrillings of unasked desire, till quite overpowered with the transporting gaze, the senses faint, and hasten to enjoyment. Her hair is also black, of which great ornament, nature has been lavishly bountiful, for when loose, it flows in unlimited tresses down to her waist; nor are the tendrills of the moss covered grotto thinner distributed, but though not yet bushy, might truly be stiled Black Heath; how early this thicket of her maidenhead was penetrated through, by the natural invader of Middlesex, we cannot pretend to say; most probably when it was only a small brake; for from its present state, and the extraordinary warmth of the soil, it must have began to shoot very early, and the mother of all things must have opened the sanguinary sluices in this delightful Channel, at an early period. The mount above, has a most delicious swell, as ambitious to receive on it downy bed, its swelling rival and antagonist, and it is so well clothed, that it may be justly called the Cyprian Grove; whilst her breasts are so fine and so fully shaped, as to entitle her to be stiled en bon point, in the richest sense of the words, and they have a springinness that defies any weight whatever, of amorous pressure. Here the voluptuary might revel in pleasure, better imagined than described, in

   'Soft silent rapture and extatic bliss.'

Her teeth are remarkably fine; she is tall, and so well proportioned (when you examine her whole naked figure, which she will permit you to do, if you perform Cytherean Rites like an able priest) that she might be taken for a fourth Grace, or a breathing Animated Venus de Medicis. Her disposition and temper is remarkably good, so sweet that it is your own fault if it be soured; for she is possessed of an uncommon share of politeness, nothing rude or uncourteous in her manner, but abounding with civility and good breeding; her connections are good, and she has a keeper (a Mr. H—nn—h) both kind and liberal; notwithstanding which, she has no objection to two supernumerary guineas.

(pp. 38-41)

   Hast thou beheld a fresher, sweeter nymph,
   Such war of white and red upon her cheeks,
   What stars do spangle, Heaven, with so much beauty,
   As those two eyes become that Heav'nly face.

At the tempting luscious age of nineteen, this lovely girl presents us with a face well worth the attention of the naturalist; She is of a fine fair complexion, with light brown hair, which waves in many a graceful ringlet, has good teeth, and her tell-tale dark eyes, speak indeed, the tender language of love, and beam unutterable softness; she is tall of stature; and of the most tempting en bon point; plump breasts, which in whiteness surpass the driven snow, and melt the most snowy of mankind to rapture. Her name she borrows from a gentleman, who, some little time ago, possessed her (as he thought) entirely for some time, but finding himself mistaken, and tired with the cornuted burthen on his brows, he left her about six months ago, to seek support in this grand mart of pleasure; and as she has been remarkably successful, and still remains a favourite piece for the enjoyment of her charms, and the conversational intercourse, with a temper remarkably good, for a whole night she expects five pounds five shillings.

(pp. 41-42)

   Mark my eyes, and as they languish,
   Read what your's have written there.

This is a very genteel made little girl, with the languishing eye of an Eloise; like her too, she is warm with the fire of love, in all its native freedom, which, fanned by the amorous air, soon kindles into a flame that cannot be quenched but by the powerful effects of the Cyprian Torrent, which she is very fond of being bathed in; she has good teeth, and a lilly white skin, which is beautifully contrasted by a grot black as the sooty raven, which, for two pounds two, will entertain you a whole night.

(pp. 42-43)

   Hope, with a gaudy prospect feeds the eye,
   Sooths every sense, does with each with comply;
   But false enjoyment the kind guide destroys,
   We lose the passion in the treacherous joys.

Enjoyment is the most exquisite of human pleasures; ah! what a pity it is so short in duration. Nature wound up to the highest pitch, after striking twelve, immediately descends to poor solitary one: these are the reflections that naturally arise on enjoying Betsy. Though she is but little, she is an epitome of delight, a quintescence of joy, which by the most endearing chemistry, give all spirit, and unite in small compass, the efficacy of a much larger bulk. Her lovely fair tresses and elegant countenance beat alarms to love; but we attack only to fall in the breach, and lament that the luscious conflict is so soon ended. The common destroyer of beauty has made a few dells on the face of this fair Jewess, but a pair of pretty dimples makes ample amends, and quite over balances these trifling imperfections; she has been in life not more than six months, and expects, if she calls any man a friend, to receive two guineas the first visit.

(pp. 43-44)

   See through the liquid eye, the melting glance,
   The buried soul in lovely tumults lost,
   And all the senses to the centre sent.

She is of the middle size, light hair, blue eyes, and about twenty-two; she is a very agreeable companion, sings a good song, and is a buxom, lively, luscious bed-fellow, but has nothing remarkable above the common run of women of the town, who are young and handsome; she has been a sportswoman in the Cyprian Games about five years, and always expects two pounds two before she is mounted.

(p. 44)

   How dull the spring of life would prove,
   Without the kiss that waits on love;
   From youthful lips you soon receive
   The richest harvest lips can give.

Eloped from her friends in the country but a short time, flushed with all the amorous fire of youth insatiate, and ripe with every personal charm the heart of man can wish, this pleasing girl enters our list. The fresh country bloom still remains unimpaired, the rural vivacity is still the same, and united with a beautiful skin and complexion, we can present our readers with a temper and disposition that good nature and affability must call their own. Her teeth are regular, and very white, her eyes of the most lively hazel, which, without the least fire from Bacchus, shoot the most powerful glances; her hair a lovely brown, her breasts are small and never have been sufficiently subjected to manual pressure to deprive them of their natural firmness; she is willingly compliant to any liberty in company, that does not extend beyond the bounds of decency; but let nature come forth unadorned, get once the enchanting girl in bed, she opens all her charms, and gives a sudden loose to such a bent of amorous passion, she would fire the most torpid disposition; when once you press her in your eager arms the game must instantly begin, and scarcely does she allow an introductory kiss, so uncurbed is her appetite, and so fond is she of repetition, that she would with every lover that passes a night with her to be able to say with Ovid,

   Fair Betsy knows, when numbering the delight
   Not less than nine full transports crown'd the night.

Only six months has this child of love dealed out her charms in public, but well knowing their value, is not quite satisfied if she does not receive on paper a proof of their excellence.

(pp. 45-46)

         Give me plenty of bub,
         From the large brandy tub,
      And I'll spend the whole night in your arms,
         I'll expose every part
         Of my brown apple cart,
      And stifle, quite stifle the boy in its charms.

I hope none of our readers will prove a Mr. L-d-tt, who, about six months ago, from a mere silly quarrel with this his favourite fair, thought it convenient to finish his existence in the leaden way; she does not possess either youth or novelty sufficient to tempt many, to act in that way, having been at least seven years a trading nymph to our knowledge; she is tall, and genteelly made, with a fine skin, and beautiful flaxen hair, but is too fond of the brandy bottle to give that sincere delight, that mutual interchange of souls so necessary to stamp the extatic rapture; she may, however, prove to those that will drink a glass with her, and has no objection to become as merry as herself, a desireable piece, as she is neither extravagant in her demands, or nice in the choice of her admirers.

(pp. 46-47)

   Then he began to rave and tear,
   And swore once more he'd try the fair
   To grace his notes he would take care,
     She gave her kind consent.
   He pitch'd the highest note he could,
   And kept the stops just where he should,
   Damon, says she, your musick's good,
     And I am now content.

This lady, we are told, is remarkably fond of musick, and there is no tune within compass of the flute but she plays with the greatest dexterity; she is perfect mistress of all the graces, is never out in stopping, and is full as well skilled in pricking; altho' the principal part of her music is played in duets, and every duet in a natural key, she has not the smallest objection to two flats; she has a variety of sweet notes, and many pleasing airs, and generally chooses the lowest part; every shake and quaver she feels instinctively, and sometimes has played the same tune over twice, before her partner has gone through it once, without the least deviation from true concord; she does not allow of any cross barrs, and is particularly partial to the Tacit flute; her moving stars are as black and as round as the end of a Crotchet; no flower that blows is like her cheek, or scatters such perfume as her breath: no advice can controul her love; she does as she will with her swain, presses him away to the copse, puts the wanton God where the bee sucks into her pleasant native plains, soon after you feel the graceful move and find how sweet it is in the low-lands; and should it be in sable night, she loves to restore the drooping plant, thinks variety is charming, and always gives one kind kiss before she parts; and as she is now only nineteen, can sing a French as well as an English song, and has a very good friend, whose name she at present assumes: you must not approach her shrine without being well fortifyed with root of all evil.

(pp. 47-49)

   A rose-bud blows in either cheek,
     Round which the lily makes its bed;
   Two dimples sweet good nature speak,
     And auburn ringlets deck her head.
   Her heaving breasts pant keen desire,
     Their blushing summits own the flame;
   Her eyes seem wishing something nigher,
     Her hand conducts it to the same.

Miss B—nd is a very genteel agreeable little girl, and is distinguished more by the elegancy of her dress, than the beauty of her person, which might perhaps have been ranked in the list of tolerable's, had not the small-pox been quite so unkind; she is, nevertheless, a desirable well tempered piece, and one that does not degrade herself by her company or her actions; she comes into our corps, in consequence of her good keeper's leaving England, and enlists a volunteer, in all the sprightliness and vivacity of nineteen, with beautiful auburn hair, and a pair of pretty languishing blue peepers, that seem at every glance to tell you how nature stands affected below; nor will those swimming luminaries deceive you; it is ever ready to receive the well formed tumid guest, and as the external crura entwine and press home the vigorous tool, the internal crura embrace it, and presses out the last precious drops of the vital fluid, which her hand, by stealth, conveyed to the treasure bags of nature, by tender squeezings seem to increase the undiscribable rapture, at the dye away moment; in short, during her performance of venereal rites, she is all the heart of the most in- flamed sensualist can wish, or any man that has two spare guineas in his pocket, can desire.

(pp. 49-50)

   Strait a new heat return'd with his embrace,
   Warmth to my blood and colour to my face;
   Till at the length, with mutual kisses fir'd,
   To the last bliss we eagerly aspir'd,
   And both alike attain'd, what both alike desir'd.

When beauty beats up for recruits, he must be an errant coward indeed, who refuses to enlist under its banner; and when good humour, complaisance, and engaging behaviour are the rewards of service, it is shameful to desert. This lady's charms attract most who behold them; though of a low stature, and rather under the middle size, she is elegantly formed; her black eyes, contrasted with her white teeth, are highly pleasing, and the goodness of her temper rivets the chains which her agreeable form first put on. One guinea, is then, too poor a recompence for such merit; and it is to be deplored, that a girl, who should only exchange love for love, should be obliged to take payment for what is ever beyond price: in bed, she is by far the better piece, and is up to every manoeuvre necessary to restore life, and every luscious move to destroy; hands, tongue, lips, legs, and every part of the busy frame is engaged at once in the pleasing task, and all to provoke and bring the soul breathing conflict to the last extatic gush.

(pp. 51-52)

   ———————————O my soul,
   Whither, whither art thou flying,
   Lost in sweet tumultuous dying?
   You tremble love, and so do I!
   Ah! stay, and we'll together dye;
   My soul shall take her flight with thine
   Life dissolving in delight,
   Heaving breasts and swimming sight,
   Faultering speech and gasping breath,
   Symptoms of delicious death;
   My soul is ready for the flight.

This lady appeared some years ago, to our readers, under the name of Ogl—, but as we have frequently seen, that a girl, though young, may yet be very disagreeable, so we may conclude, from Mrs. D—d, that a woman in years may be perfectly alluring; she is, indeed, turned of forty, rather fat and short, yet she looks well, dresses neat, and can divide as smartly covered, and as neat a leg and foot as ever beat time to the silent flute; her temper and behaviour are good, and if you are not soon disposed for the attack, she will shew you such a set of pictures, that very seldom fails to alarm the sleeping member. Then may you behold the lovely fount of delight, reared on two pillars of monumenatal alabaster; the symmetry of its parts, its borders enriched with wavering tendrils, its ruby portals, and the tufted grove, that crowns the summit of the mount, all join to invite the guest to enter. The cordial reception he meets therein, with the tide of flowing bliss, more delicious than the boasted nectar of the gods, engulph the raptured soul, and set the lovely owner of the premisses, above nine tenths of the green gewgaws that flutter about the town. If discipline forms the soldier in the wars of Mars, experience finishes the female combatant in the skirmishes of Venus. That experience this lady has, and is perfectly skilled in every delightful manoeuvre, knowing how to keep time, when to advance and retreat, to face to the right or left, and when to shower down a whole volley of love; so that those who are vanquished by her glory in their defeat, pant only for returning vigour to renew the combat; she is perfectly mistress in the art of restoring life, and performs the tender friction with a hand soft as turtles down. Keeps the house, and after giving you a whole night's entertainment, is perfectly satisfyed, and will give you a comfortable cup of tea in the morning, for one pound one.

(pp. 52-54)

   The soft desiring girl expects thy coming;
   Busy in thought, and hasty for the hour,
   She turns and sighs, and wishes, counts the clock,
   And every minute drags a heavy pace,
   Till thou appear, the champion of the bed,
   Arm'd at all points, and eager for the charge
   That calls thee to the combat of thy love.

This lady's graceful figure, beautiful face, dark hair, and ivory teeth, must surely win the heart of every one, who is fortunate enough to get into her company, and make you pant for the enjoyment of the more essential bliss; for the performance of which, who indeed, is better qualified? who is of a sweeter temper? who can better twine in the enchanting folds of love? who can fill the night with stranger raptures? few, if any. Inslead of expecting two guineas for the performance, we may rather wonder at her moderation in not expecting more: and though she is perfectly charming when drest, yet we are informed that her naked beauties are still more enchanting; her lovely demi globes of delight, with their ruby buds, ravish the wondering eye. Descend still lower to the regions of happiness, the true country of pleasure, and there appear the flaxen tendrils wantonly playing over the mother of all saints, whilst the pouting protuberances leave it doubtful which lips better deserve the burning kiss; the extatic embrace both act in concert, and charm with delightful unison; whilst those above murmur the transports of the soul, those which are placed below, perform the delicious suction, which cannot be resisted till every atom of the genial juice is drawn through its most natural vent—that the man blest with enjoyment, may cry out with Lee in his Caesar Borgia,

   ————O thou great chemise, nature,
   Who draw'st one spirit so divinely perfect,
   Thou mak'st a dreg of all the world beside.

Ireland lays claim to the honour of giving birth to this charming girl, who has not sported her figure in public life more than ten months; indeed her particular friend, the Captain, whose name she has taken the liberty of assuming, thinks her rather more honest than we believe her to be; she is now in her eighteenth year, dances well, and is fond of frequenting public hops, where, if her partner pleases her, for two guineas she has no objection to take him home, and return the compliment, that is, provided the Captain, is from town.

(pp. 54-56)

   Toil all the night, and at the approach of morn,
   When tir'd nature calls aloud for rest,
   The wanton fair, a stranger to fatigue,
   With eager fondness will renew the sport;
   Entwine the busy limbs to force the joy,
   Whilst through the parting lips, the playful tongue,
   The vital fire thro' every nerve propels,
   And drown the senses in love's potent stream.

Would the amorous devotee wish us to say more, perhaps he may require personal charms, even then he will not be disappointed; she is of the brunette cast, with fine languishing eyes, fine even teeth, plump, well formed, panting bubbies, and as she has now only entered into her nineteenth year, cannot possibly have lost the transports of mutuality; at present she trades the independant lass, having no particular friend to humour or offend; she takes her noon and evening excursions regularly, and enjoys, with unfeigned rapture, every man of pleasure that enters properly equipped for the sport; and her love of variety, and her attachment to the sport, is so very prevalent, that, provided the gentleman's pocket is sufficiently armed, there is not the least reason to fear she then will meet him midway, with true rapture, will grasp the pointed weapon with genuine female fortitude, and urge him home with singular delight, lesson his pride with becoming dignity, and ask repeated pleasures.———It is now only eight months we have been able to call her our own, and as she seems satisfied with one guinea, would recommend her as a deserving peice.

(pp. 57-58)

   'Let Nature empty her whole quiver in me,
   'I have a part, which, like an ample shield,
   'Can take in all, and yet leave room for more.

This lady assumed the name, she at present goes by, from motives of concealment in her sportive profession, in which she drives a good trade, and is very much lik'd by the beaux esprits of the age for her spunk, being remarkably full of Cyprian Spirit, many degrees above any proof it has ever been put to; so that for the power of her parts, and active ability, she could match Turk Gregory; and when she had him in her tenacious arms, he might perform the amorous feat within the magic circle of her charms, till even strength, like his, was spent, and nature quite exhausted of all her balmy store, whilst she, untired, and springing from the bed, would ask a fresh attack, and still give pleasure in the warm embrace; she is of a dark complexion, with a wide mouth, and extraordinary well formed for a winter's companion. She has no pretensions to beauty, but founds her claims to public favour on internal merit, and her capacity and skill in the rites of Venus, appealing rather to the sense of touch, than that of sight; she is in general to be met with at a favourite hop, at the west end of the town, and if Mr. B—rd should not be there, you may gain the liberty of attending her home, and she will thank you for half a guinea.

(pp. 58-59)

   Behold those eyes that swim in humid fires,
   And trace her wanton thoughts and young desires;
   Taste those sweet lips, with balmy Nectar fraught,
   And all the rich luxuriancy of thought:
   Press her soft bosom—seat of swelling joy,
   Whose charms invite the rosy pinion'd boy;
   Who, fluttering here, may point the unerring dart,
   Flash in each eye, and revel in each heart,
   Till bolder grown, your hand insatiate rove,
   O'er her delightful mount and sportive grove;
   Then all her limbs unbound, her girdle loose,
   There's nothing you can ask her, she'll refuse.

The above lines, from one of the warmest and most elegant poets fancy ever favoured, might be very justly applied to this charming girl. Rich with the glow of youth, and the charms of a person, in which nature has been lavishly bountiful, she possesses a mind rarely, very rarely met with in the frail daughters of pleasure; generous, free-hearted, noble, feeling, and disinterested, might appear to be too high sounding epithets for a woman of this description. But however strange, it is not less strange than true; for she possesses qualities, which the want of, might make many a titled dame, poessessed of that single virtue, (or at least appearing to possess it) that she has unfortunately lost,—blush, for they may all with the strictest truth be applied to her. Here then, may the man come, (nay, we advise him to) who wishes in the morning, succeeding a delicious night, to find his person and his purse safe, and his health uninjured; here may he come, and taste every joy the most luscious desire can wish; here may his very sense be fed, nor know satiety, for joined to a beautiful face, an elegant form, and a graceful manner, you win find the agreeable companion, the good humoured girl, and the most enchanting bedfellow; young, and not more than three months on the town, or in the town, fine hazel love-swimming eyes, and dark brown hair, which left to twine in nature's wanton folds, plays loosely over a neck white as snow unsunned, and sweetly shades the most enchanting love hillocks nature ever planted below, a jetty black surrounds the pouting mansion, rais'd on a pair of pillars that might shame the whitest, or mark the smoothest alabaster, that twine in the amorous encounter, and seem to partake of that pleasure in the dye-away moment, that we cannot pretend to set any value upon.

(pp. 60-62)

   Reclin'd upon a couch the maiden lay,
   And all her virgin charms expos'd to view;
   I saw them all, unseen, and in her eyes
   Read the mad language of untaught desire.

This Mrs. C——— may say, when she first seduced this then lovely girl from the boarding school, and taught her willing mind the use of that machine, her amorous desires so ardently wished for.— She is the daughter of a banker in the city, and might have remained with her first undoer for many years longer, had not her itch for variety, and the brandy bottle, got the better of every subservience due to a keeper. Now arrived at the full age of twenty-six, with fine sparkling blue eyes, genteel tall figure, her breasts rather full but not less firm, very fair, and contrasted beautifully by the blue branching veins which surround every part; apparently light brown hair, but so covered with powder that the colour is doubtful; of a sprightly and amorous disposition, and a very warm temper, especially when tempered by her favorite liquor, of which she loves to take large and copious libations, ever desirous of seeing the bottom. Her price is moderate, the smallest piece being as much as she in general expects.

(pp. 62-63)

   'Methinks I wish, and wish for what I know not,
   'But still I wish,—yet, if I had that woman,
   'She I believe could tell me what I wish for.

Should the man of pleasure take a nocturnal ramble into this lady's lodgings, and be happy enough to find her at home and alone, he need not wish himself for that night under the influence of any other star than that of Venus; as she will very agreeably make the dulest hours to pass away with the soft music of love, and beat time to its silent harmony in all the luxury of soft delight; she is of a fine brunette complexion, hazel eyes, which beam inexpressibly sweet, remarkable fine teeth, plump firm bubbies, and a stately carriage; she dances well, and is amiable in her temper, lively in her disposition, and carries good-nature in all her actions; nor does she neglect any thing in her power to please her visitors. Her price is from two guineas upwards, to any sum the gentleman she obliges thinks she merits; which at the blooming age of twenty cannot be too much. Had she less partiality for a certain hair dresser, we think she would be more pleasing to the generality of her visitors.

(pp. 63-64)

   Love's subtle fluid, and life's thrilling kiss
   Glide thro' her frame, and speak the coming bliss.

In this age of gallantry and pleasure, when epicurism is so much practised, and variety so much sought after, we are happy in being able to serve up a dish to every palate, and here present our readers with as delicious a one (that is when she does not smell of brandy) as would be provided by the hand of luxury itself, and stimulate the most languid appetite to fall on with the greatest gou; for in Betsy is comprised an epitome of delight, rather above mediocrity in her size, fine dark eyes and hair, and a fine durable complexion, and teeth that needs not the dentist nor his dentrifice; and a pair of tempting full formed breasts, made for the swelling yielding joy, and to send the murmurring sigh of rapture to the breathing trembling lips; and at the critical juncture of supreme pleasure, her whole spirit seems to dissolve within her, weep thro' all her frame with exquisitely thrilling languor, and pour down to the centrical point from every Cyprian spring a whole flood of liquid life: for a nocturnal bathe in this Cyprian spring, she expects at least two guineas.

(pp. 64-65)

   Just at fifteen the down of nature grew,
   O'er the soft yielding lips of crimson hue;
   The wanton fire of love began to play,
   And on her bosom shew its powerful sway
   When two more years had ripened every joint,
   All nature's power did to the centre point,

And still continues to point there, never seeking for a more engaging part, than that whose natural instinct so forcibly point to that central abode; and well may it point there, for she can command a Paradise of bliss; a fair eye, and beautiful complexion, together with firm panting breasts, busy hand, which loves to be busily employed in inviting the tumid guest to her dear land of delight; the two grand supporters of which always unfold at the approach of this never unwelcome visitor, whose knocking and entrance is generally performed at the same time; the dando and reddendo game soon began, which cannot be won but by death. She is tall and genteelly formed, good teeth, a fair skin, and pretty melting light eyes, and was taught, when in keeping by the surgeon she takes her name from, that kind of behaviour that does credit to herself, and is very rare to be met with amongst the frail daughters of pleasure.

(pp. 66-67)

   There is a joy to melt in her embrace,
   Dissolve in pleasures, not in delights.

She is a fine lusty well looking lady; her eyes and hair are dark; her teeth good, and her age about thirty; she sees much company, and none depart unsatisfied, it being her study to please, and her pride to be thought worthy of a second visit. She is very careful of her health, and where she has the least reason to suspect infection, is very strict in examining the ambassador of love e'er she receives his tribute. Tho' a very generous dealer, and one who has dealt in our market at least ten years, she does not appear to be quite void of sensibility; but seems to give pleasing proofs that she feels delight, as well as bestows it. Her old friend, whose name she stole, has been long dead, and by his death has reduced her to accept of almost any sum her paramour offers.

(pp. 67-68)

   Here roses red, and lilys fair;
   The gifts of nature, deck her air.

Oh for a touch of the pencil of animation to color the picture of one of the most lively productions in our exhibition; she is genteel and well made, with a beautiful face, the tints in which are done by nature alone, fine light hair, and a pretty learing eye, that would make a monk disregard his vow of celibacy, or a mahometan think that he had got one of the daughters of paradise; her mouth small, her lips tempting; her teeth even, white, and regular; her foot and leg smart, and her dress at once neat and genteel. But these are not the sole powers of this lady; she is acquainted at once with the whole rationale of love, as well as with the entire practice of it; and whether we talk of those mysteries which are only known by the adepts, or those more clumsily applied operations of the lower orders of the sisterhood, she is up to every thing in love's tactics. Her dialect does not tell us she is a native of Scotland, tho' her father, who is an half pay officer, yet resides there; at this period when the powers of love or lust are at their full bloom, necessity and inclination together, prompted her to become a dancer on our cyprian stage, and is very desirous of pleasing every man that makes her his partner, and is so very careful of her health, that before she receives her guinea, she must examine every one of her partner's legs.

(pp. 68-69)

   When will the dear man come, that I may hold him
   Fast as my love can make him, hug him close
   As my fond soul can wish: give all my breath
   In sighs and kisses, tell I swoon with rapture.

All this she seems to say to each admirer; it cannot be true to all. But no matter. Vanity whispers to each, this is for thee alone, and the self-deceived dolt believes it. Miss S—tt—n, indeed, can give pleasure; her agreeable person, animated eyes, and lively manner, promise pleasing enjoyment, and in that she does not deceive; she artfully prolongs the pleasure to its utmost limits, and even then repines it is so short. She is of a comfortable size, genteelly form'd, with a pretty round face, a little pimpled, very pretty orient teeth, and now just entered her twenty-second year; her lodgings are neat and elegant, for the use of which, and a little black apartment, she always carries about her; she expects, at least 3 guineas; if not at home, in the evening, is generally to be met with in the green boxes.

(pp. 69-70)

         Let me press therein my arms,
   Tune of my heart, and charmer of my eyes,
   Nay, thou shall hear the extacy from me,
   I'll make thee smile with my extravagant passion.

This lady is neither handsome, well dress'd, well lodg'd, nor well bred; yet she will give more delight than most of the finical dames, who think they do their gallants a favour to admit their embraces at a high price. This humble girl is thankful for a crown, and will testify her gratitude in whatever way you chuse, she is willing to appear in the dress of pure nature, as her skin is without spot or blemish, her breasts small and plump, and her limbs well turned and well proportioned. It is her joy to give joy, and she omits no means of procuring it; though her compliance is ample, she is so reserved in her demand that she takes what is given, and does not, like too many of her sisterhood, seize the minute just preceding the moment of extacy to demand more, and either proceed or draw back as her demands are gratify'd or not. In short she is worthy of some degree of elevation, to enable her to walk a more gainful round than Catherine-street, or the Strand. She has lately been to visit her parents in Derbyshire, and is now returned a tolerable fresh piece again.

(pp. 70-71)

   Her brows are arch'd, and rather full and thin,
   To shade the dazzling light that dwells therein.

Although Mrs. H—w—rd cannot be more than twenty-six, she has been a true sportswoman, at the cyprian games, for at least twelve years, and has within these late ones contracted such an habit of intimacy with the gin bottle, that unless a person is particularly partial to it, it is almost intolerable, to approach her. At Brighton, this last season, she was the favourite girl at Mrs. John—n's, and had she not, through a foolish fondness, gave the preference to her dear Mr. Sn—m, it is in general believed Mr. W——, the capital Brewer, would have taken her under his own protection; she is rather too short, and too fat, fine dark hair; and eyes and eye-brows that answer very well to her motto; the grove below is well thatched, and ample enough in size to take in any guest; but still she has learnt the knack of contracting it, and a small made gentleman may feel the tender friction. When she elopes from her dear fellow, she is to be met with at Mrs. J—ns—n's, in German-street, and does not turn away any money offered her.

(p. 72)

   In hell and earth, and seas and heaven above,
   Love conquers all, and we must yield to force.

This lady, tho' an adept in the art, so nobly erases true impudence, with false modesty, that her lover would be almost lead to think his chosen fair, at first sight, an immaculate Virgin. The supreme gush, the enraptured moment she so mutually interchanges, or at least seems so to do, that she might well be stil'd the paragon of her sex; and so perfectly well convinced of her own proficiency in the art, (altho in spite, of those killing lumi- naries, embellished by a tolerable good skin, she has too large a mouth ever to be stil'd a beauty) she never will see her man a second time, unless Plutus has sufficiently shewn his power first. Our charmer was taken from her parents, and taught the use of the tree of life at a very early period; but never had the good fortune on her side to be much exalted: indeed, when we consider the more early part of her life was spent, and the whole of her education was received in a sea port town, we cannot be much surprised.

(p. 73)

   Thou can'st not see one wrinkle in my brow,
   My eyes tho' dark, are bright and quick in turning,
   My beauty as the spring does yearly grow,
   My flesh is soft and plump; my marrow burning.

It is not surprising, the notice which a lady, who as long erected her standard in the field of pleasure, attracts from the veterans in the same field. This is the case of our heroine, now about twenty-eight years of age, tall, rather lusty, and a figure that speaks true symmetry; handsome, a slight tinge of the brunette in her complexion, with very fine dark hair, fine hazel eyes, very dark, and finely arch'd eye brows; indeed, she has been a very fine woman, and is far from being in her wane of beauty; her hair, indeed, is remarkably fine, and such a length, as to be able to be interwoven with her once maidenhead thicket, now grown to a fine bushy arbour surrounding the blissful cell of the blind sovereign of wanton sports, where he reigns predominant over every sense, and subjects all the rest to that of feeling; here he keeps his court and holds his revels; come then ye followers of Comus, plunge your burning plough shares within the betwiching circle, and slake the hot breathing of untamed desire; here dance the round of joy till sense grows giddy in the maze, and taste the delicious transports of maddening delight, till panting nature striking the alarm, proclaims a dying pause to her own music, and pours forth the flood of mingled rapture; she has good breasts, and her limbs are finely turn'd and proportioned; she is of a very good disposition, and a most agreeable companion, and is at present in keeping by a Mr. M—lls; but being fond of the glow of youth, and the manly embrace of full vigour, she indulges variety, and is various in her expectation for so doing.

(pp. 74-75)

   What pity 'tis so fine a face and form
   Should suffer pride, the cankerworms of joy,
   That beauty to deform.

If a warm son of Bacchus, flush'd with the fullness of desire impetuous, would wish to melt a haughty temper down to the standard of all complying love, let him repair to this imperious golden hair'd beauty, for however proud, she will stoop to conquer any bold invader; and you may lay her on her back by closing with her in the athletic exercise of wrestling, as she is very fond of Cupid's hug, and the amorous lock, and will wait your further attack with becoming spirit, and engage your champion of her ring, with a grasp, till he is reduced to bend beneath the powerful squeeze, and yield all the metal he has about him to his circling antagonist, who, so far from behaving ungenerous, will give out in exchange as much, or more rich treasure of another coin, in token of mutual amity; in short she is as smart a little girl as you will in general see of her complexion and size, and borrows her name from a gentleman who is a very good friend, but does not expect her to confine the whole of her favours to him alone; but allows her to pick up her odd guineas as she pleases.

(pp. 75-76)

   Sure nature cast one in her softest mould,
   All mild and gentle, never made to scold.

West Indies gave birth to this daughter of Momus by Venus; the warmth of the clime brought the charming girl's feeling to maturity at an early period, and a gentleman, whose name she assumes, first trod down Hymen's fence, and made her a perfect woman; but the natural warmth of her constitution soon compelled her to seek variety in our great mart; she therefore left her good friend, and now presents the world with a sweet chearful disposition, fine dark hair, and eyes of the same friendly hue; fine teeth, is short and plump, and we have not had her above eighteen months; she expects three guineas for a whole night, but if you make a short visit, one pound one shilling is the least.

(p. 77)

      —Endless joys are in that heaven of love,
   A thousand Cupids dance upon her smiles;
   Young bathing graces wanton in her eyes,
   Melt in her looks, and pant upon her breasts;
   Each word is gentle as a western breeze
   That fans the infant bosom of the spring,
   And every sigh more fragrant than the morn.

This beautiful girl, that goes by no other name than Betsy, was formely a retailer of apples, &c. She has lately, with three other ladies, sported her figure at Bath, and was there the reigning toast amongst the first bucks of the place; she is delicately and genteely form'd, about the middle size, very young and sprightly, and modest in her conversation, except when proper occasions demand wanton freedom; her hair and eyes are black, and her teeth remarkably white, through which she plays the velvet tip with uncommon grace and ardour; we cannot pretend to say who cropt the virgin bud from the beautiful tree, but it could be long before she put herself under the care and direction of Mrs. K——, and under such a tutoress we have no doubt but she will be soon such a complete mistress of her business, that join'd with her personal accomplishments, will bring her into the most elevated life. Many of the post steeds of Venus have been so often hack'd, that they are broken winded, halt in their paces, and are well nigh founder'd, so as to be scarce fit for any thing but brood mares, if they are not too old. There will therefore be full room for Betsy to succeed some of the most eminent, as she is well worthy of the embraces of the first men in the kingdom. Some who have possess'd her speak with raptures of the joy she bestows, they say the beauties she displays when drest, great as they are, are trivial to those which custom keeps concealed; they say the mossy grot of Venus is perfectly enchanting; her thighs are two alabaster pillars, which with the ebon tendril that play in wanton ringlets round the grot, and the crimson lining of the elastic portals, form together that perfect clare obscure, so much admir'd in painting, and which always produce a most pleasing effect; that her lovely snowy breasts are quickly be- spread with purple meandring veins, and that her murmurs, her broken sighs of joy, and half spoken words of delight in the rapturous minute, justify fully, the exclamation of the poet.

      Oh! how sweet to see her eyes
      Rolling in their humid fires,
   Where the nymph extended lies
      Full of love and soft desires;
   Conscious red her cheeks o'er spreading,
      And her heaving bosom rising,
   Milky paths to raptures leading,
      Murmuring sighs her joys disguising.

(pp. 78-80)

   Where did my soul in the dear transport go?
   Did it with willing haste to her depart?
   It did, I'm sure, and fluttered around her heart;
   It heav'd, it trembled, and it panted there,
   But all its weak efforts to stay were vain,
   A kiss restored the fugitive again;
   My soul re-enterd, we repeated o'er
   A thousand joys unknown to both before.

In the bloom of sixteen, tall and elegantly genteel, with fine black expressive eyes, and remarkable fine hair, which flows in graceful ringlets down her back, and with an envious shade sweetly protects two of the most enchanting snowy hillocks nature ever formed. Miss P—— may well please, may well attract the eye. She does please, she does attract, and upon every account well merits the attention of the man of true taste. Untutored by art, and taught only by powerful nature, she charms in enjoyment; and as she has not, from over frequency, been rendered callous to the joys of love, she repays every rapture with interest, and meets the blissful moment with a tepid flood of delight. At present she is in good keeping by a citizen, not many miles from Fleet Market, and having been only three months under his care, has not yet been sufficiently broke for the sport, hope therefore that some of our good friends will, by properly supplying the citizen's place at those hours his employment obliges him to be absent, instill into her such principles that will at least raise her spunk to proof; but' altho' young, she can well dispense with a little more pocket money than her keeper allows, and always expects twice the number of pieces that her paramour gives proofs of his manhood.

(pp. 80-81)

   ————Born with every grace,
   Ev'n envy must applaud so fair a face;
   Such is her form as painters when they show
   Their utmost art, on naked limbs bestow.

This pretty little smart girl, this true lover of the sport, is at present in keeping by a member of P————t, not far from St. James's; but not being sufficiently membered for her lower house, she appropriates the greatest part of the member's hard coin to support and keep in good humour two favourites of her own. The one a tender sprig of the law, the other a jolly hearty looking butcher; but still in spite of these three, she has her best apartment ready for any one that is master of five guineas, and will make her mistress of the same; it is neatly ornamented with chestnut coloured fringe, is snug and warm, and when not too warm (which we are told is sometimes the case) very comfortable; she is now only seventeen, her dark eyes have much lustre and more meaning: her limbs, tho' small, are well shaped, covered with a skin fair as the swan's neck, and soft as its down, they are perfectly pliable, and form a thousand true lovers knots, first to facilitate the entrance into her apartment, and then to keep the enraptured lodger there as long as possible. Indeed, she never lets one depart till he has paid his rent; but to shew she is not avaricious, she generally returns as much as she receives, in the like metal, tho' not in the same coin.

(pp. 82-83)

   He dresses her wig in a new fashion way,
   And black D—m—r as usual is jovial and gay;
   She constantly smiles on her doating dear puff,
   And thinks he can never be tumbled enough.

This good-natured piece of luxury we have nor been able to trace beyond five years, at which time she made her entry in no very high sphere, but meeting with great encouragement, she might have done very well, but love, that wicked deity, created for the ruin of his female votaries, shot poor Sally deep in the heart; going to partake of an innocent amusement, vulgarly called black hops, where twelve pence will gain admission, she beheld, oh dire misfortune! a lovely African, blooming with all the hue of the warm country that gave him birth, and fell at that instant a sacrifice to the charms of the well made sooty frizeur; for some time she ranked him amongst her own train, and charitably exerted herself for his support, but growing at length satiated with his dear company, and almost ruined in the bargain, she dismissed the gloomy object of her late desires, and parted mutual friends; since which time she has graced the purlieus of Covent-Garden with her presence, and is perfectly well known under the Piazza. She is about twenty-three, light hair and eyes, a good skin, and size compleatly adapted for this season, and which seems to please the greatest part of her friends and customers, who think two arms full of joy twice as good as one; she is remarkably good-natured and affable to those who favour her with a visit, and will take almost any sum rather than turn her visitor away; but if you absolutely bilk her, beware of the consequence; for she is so well convinced that she does not merit such treatment, that she will, if possible, revenge the injury; but we hope none of our friends will ever pay her a whole nocturnal visit without a small piece of gold in his pocket, as she is an able pasture maker, is up to every movement in the art of giving pleasure, and will oblige them in any way.

(pp. 83-85)

   Here haste ye gay, take pleasure on the wing,
   Taste all her sweets conjoin'd, nor fear her
       sting.

This agreeable girl has a pretty face suffused with a good complexion, dark penetrating eyes, hair of the same hue, which waves in glossy ringlets o'er her shoulders, a set of good teeth, and a stature of the exact medium between a giant and a pigmy; she has not been more than eight months in this grand mart of universal commerce, and now stands out for a settlement from some of her warm admirers, which (being at the rich age of twenty, the prime of female charms, when every zeal that can enhance enjoyments is at its full zenith) she concludes ought to be a good one. Mr. N—by, a limb of the law, is her greatest friend and her particular admirer, but does not seem to have any objection to her 'Flying abroad for food,' and is not at all displeased to find her a guinea richer than when he left her.

(pp. 85-86)

   Forc'd to consent, but never to obey,
   Panting he lies; the liquid minute pass'd,
   She feedeth on the stream as on a prey,
   And calls it heavenly moisture.

Some ladies prefer the profit, others the pleasure; some may divide it equally in their choice, and perhaps their may be, among Venus's tribe, the lady found almost indifferent to either; this lady however we may venture to affirm is not of the last stamp; she is a fine inviting looking girl, with very lively Cupidinous eyes and a good complexion, and scarcely ever to be found but in a good humour; and her paramour, provided he can prove himself the good bed fellow, has nothing to fear in this lady's company, as money with her is not the entire object, it is the enjoyment that constitutes her happiness, and in that part she is a truly lovely actress; her twining limbs never forget their office; her busy lips is mistress of the genuine burning kiss, and the intermediate parts move in every direction that can possibly enhance the coming joy, which she will powerfully urge a repetition of, as long as dame nature can possibly afford it. She is at prefent in keeping by a French count, who though very jealous, often suffers her to sport it in his chariot, during which time her tell-tale black eyes, is busy in hunting for admirers, and can tip the wink and conduct him, if approved, to a safe harbour; and altho' not so very fond of money, she does not expect to have less than five guineas offered her.

(pp. 86-87)

   A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
   Being wasted in such time-be guiling sport.

Without possessing any particular attracting charms this lady pleases, and has many admirers. Her face is agreeable without being pretty, she is well made, without being strictly genteel; and a friend to mirth and good humour, without vulgarity. She carries on a snug good trade, without going much abroad, and is in bed a very amorous companion. If she does go abroad it is generally to some of the public hops, where she contrives to select out her partner for the night, and will convince him (although she dances well amidst twenty couple) that she cuts a much better figure with only one, and being now only twenty years of age,with good nature, affability, and love depicted in all her actions, no one that has three guineas in his pocket, ought to be against parting with two thirds to oblige her.

(p. 88)

   Blest with such charms, the snowy heart could move
   Such melting beauties sovereign claims of love;
   She sweetly smiles, unconscious of her pow'r,
   And with her pleasing chat beguiles each hour.

It is an undoubted fact she must please, she must charm the heart, and win the foul to exquisite delight; how can it be otherwise! behold her eyes, drinking their living moisture in cups of the purest hazel, and holding converse with the heart, in such a language, the least meeting glance must immediately understand; behold her hair, glossy as the pearly drops that gild the flow'ry field when Phoebus first his eastern rays extends, and soft as turtles down; which, when suffered to sport in nature's wanton folds, hold all the graces in their sportive curls; view next her teeth, as white as the polish'd elephants, and beautiful as white;

   Cheeks from whence the roses seek their bloom,
   And lips from whence the zephyrs steal perfume

but all these charms united, fall very short of her mental qualifications: her lively wit charms the heart, and makes her the desirable companion; her behaviour, which in company never deviates from the strict line of modesty, gains her the truest merit: her apartments are very genteel, and her dress corresponds with her person. Her professional abilities are not less to be priz'd than her other natural gifts; her natural structure in those parts is so well adapted, that it must please; and every additional improvement to enhance the coming pleasure our delicate charmer is well acquainted with; being now only nineteen she cannot, in the least, have lost the keen edge of amorous transport; neither are the essential parts at all deprived of their magical power; the liquid eye streams with the maddening fire of youth, with all the desires of unsatiated love; the panting heave, accompanying the quick interrupted sigh, speaks desire in its fullest tone; and so mutually does she interchange the liquid store at the die-away convulsive moment, that all her soul seems centred in the blissful spot. She is tall, and elegantly form'd in every limb; Mr. Arch—r, the musician, is at present her favourite man; him she will oblige at any time, from every one else she expects three guineas.

(pp. 89-90)

   Fool! not to know that love endures no tie,
   And Jove but laughs at lovers perjury.

This lady is a native of Devonshire, and has only been one of us four months; she is of a fine fair complexion, love tinctured cerulean eyes, fine teeth, and genteel good figure; a charming partner in a dance, a very good companion by the fire side, and dearly loves an agreeable friend and a chearful glass; many a man of war hath been her willing prisoner, and paid a proper ransom; her port is said to be well guarded by a light brown chevaux-de-freize, and parted from Bum-bay by a very small pleasant isthmus. The entry is rather straight; but when once in, their is very good riding; and when they have paid port customs, they are suffered to slip out very easily, though generally followed by a salute from Crown-point, which hastens their departure by causing the floodgates to open commodiously. She is so brave, that she is ever ready for an engagement; cares not how soon she comes to close quarters, and loves to fight yard arm and yard arm, and be briskly boarded; she is best pleased when her opponent is well armed, and would despise any warrior, who had not two stout balls to block up her covered way, and did not carry metal enough to leave two pounds behind him.

(pp. 91-92)

   The blooming looks of spring, and lovely red
   As opening roses, on her cheeks are spread;
   Her eyes that sparkle like the stars above,
   Appear the armory and throne of love,
   Whilst thousands of alluring graces Wait,
   And mingling charms form love's triumphant state.

This lady is tolerably handsome, with a fine dark durable complexion, fine hazel eyes and good teeth, which, by a perpetual smile, or rather grin, she has acquired a very convenient knack of shewing; she is tall, and the goodness of her temper and disposition render her a very agreeable companion and makes her at present much sought after. We hear the first toast she drinks every day is to the health of Mr. N——, a gentleman of the law, whose name she has taken the liberty of substituting for her own; she has not yet been a year on the town, yet has done great execution amongst the tender hearts of the men of the ton, many of which she has kindled into a flame. She is as fond of variety as any baronet's lady, and will display her naked beauties to any curious observer, without giving them the trouble to mount on any other man's shoulder to take a peep at them. She is very tall, and the pit in her black heath is said to have a considerable profundity, and has baffled the art of many a gauger to take it precisely with the best dipping rules; yet though the attempt has been unsuccessful, it hath not been undelightful, for the passage being straight much pleasure has been derived by the gauger, during which pleasing pastime

   A gentle warmth invades her glowing breast,
   And while she fondly gazes on thy face,
   Ev'n thought is lost in exquisite delights;

and she is so generous, that as she knows the hours of love are but short, she always fills up every moment of them with rapture. She well knows how to wind the clock of nature up to the highest pitch, and make the human pendulum vibrate to extasy; nay, she can so well fill up what the Poet calls the dull pause of joy, that its duration is scarce perceiv'd, and she beats an almost instantaneous alarm to blissful repetition.

(pp. 92-94)

   ———————Sacrifice to her
   The precious hours, nor grudge with such a mate
   The summer's day to toy or winter's night.
   Now clasp with dying fondness in your arms
   Her yielding waist, now on her swelling breast
   Recline your cheek, with eager kises press
   Her balmy lips, and drinking from her eyes
   Resistless love, the tender flame confess
   Ineffable, but by the murmuring voice
   Of genuine joy.

This lively girl is a native of Somersetshire, and being thought by her good parents the rose of the garden, received an education perhaps beyond what their circumstances would then admit of, and pride with innocence danced hand in hand. From a great desire of becoming well acquainted with the world she was apprenticed to a millener of the same place,

   Whose parent hand the first ideas form'd.

Scarce fifteen ripening autumns had arrived, e'er she felt the divine influence nature began to inspire her with; the little fluid nipples till now unnoticed and almost unseen, began to strut in all the elegance of infant prime; the heart began to feel their sovereign power, and modest nature painted the budding blush in the centre; nature's sink began no longer to be thought as such, since now another fluid passed the narrow bounds, and instilled, by power instinctive, fresh feeling into the whole channel, and every thought and every action seemed founded on those feelings. It is now about ten months since she arrived, and enlisted in the Cyprian choir; she possesses a delicate fair complexion, with lively blue eyes, a pretty mouth, and is well embellished with two rows of polished ivory; we cannot pretend to stile her a beauty, but her lively and chearful disposition, and her accomplishments under cover in great measure compensate for the deficiency in her person, and make one pound one a trifle for a whole night's possession.

(pp. 94-96)

       To arms, to arms, the Cyprian Queen
       Here braves the god of War,
   And tho' on back, not backward seen
       To take his wond'rous spear,
   And melt it in her clasping fold,
       The fold of rapturous burning bliss,
  'Till quite o'erspent in nature's mould,
       Then darts fresh vigor with a kiss.

If a first rate smart little buck would wish for a mould to cast light infantry men in, we would strongly recommend him to Miss Ch—ld. She has a noble martial disposition, and would sooner die than be out rivalled; but independant of that occurrence in her professional line, her temper and disposition are good, and her abilities between the sheets are not easily equalled, excelled they cannot be; she possesses a pair of love speaking cerulean eyes, and a bosom as rich with love's choicest graces as luxuriant fancy can paint, and filled with the most irresistable firmness, whose panting redundancy soon invite the amorous encounter, and calls into action the till now hidden friend, whose swelling pride and impertinence will no longer suffer the curtain to remain drawn. She may, perhaps, at first attempt to chide, but bolt the door, and then all chiding ceases; an experienced sofa then lends its aid; her turning limbs enhance the coming pleasure, and sighing kisses crown the golden minute; her fair complexion charms the heart; her wicked blue eyes enchant the soul; her well made form tempts the touch; her lovely voice charms the ear, and her glossy flaxen hair is worth a guinea an hour to look at.

(pp. 96-97)

   Give me but thee, I'd make a heaven of earth,
   Each night should give to new born pleasure birth;
   The sun of joy should point continual noon,
   And e'er an age of Noah, pass too soon.

Thus sung prince ———, when he first became bewitched with the dancing and singing of this sprightly piece, and in consequence placed her in a genteel lodgings, and for some time was, we believe, her sole enjoyer; but with all his bewitching power, his show of arms, his awful countenance; his martial figure, and his warlike voice, could not confine this amorous virago within the bands of constancy, on which account it is in general believed he left her, and now she trades the independant woman. Her beautiful complexion and her fine blue eyes open such a field for love, that whilst they retain their present lustre, she cannot be without admirers. Her shape is elegant, her stature tall and genteel, and taking her every feature conjunctively, we may say with the poet

   Here youth and beauty, dancing in her hand,
   Perform their mystic round of amorous joy.

She is now in her eighteenth year, and has only been engaged in our business ten months, and tho' she cannot be stiled an epicure, she is most undoubtedly a glutton, being particularly partial to that meal where four haunches are served up at once: in her company they are sure to be dress'd in taste, for she always chuses to spit them herself; and always has the greatest share in preparing the sauce; her price for turning cook is at least three guineas.

(pp. 97-99)

   Not less her blandishments than beauty move
   At once both giving and confessing love.

This lady is about twenty-five, very short, with dark hair and black eyes; and was it not for her nose, which is quite of the pug cast, we might stile her a compleat black beauty; her toute ensemble is very agreeable, and her blandishments make her a desirable companion, as she dresses in the height of the ton, sports an elegant rattler, and at present figures away in the first line. She has got a smattering of the French and Italian (from which last place she is lately come over,) where we are told a prince of the blood took particular notice of her, and learnt her musick and dancing; it is about ten months since we have been able to present her to our readers, and if you sleep a night with her, not less than half the number of guineas will satisfy.

(pp. 99)

   Oh! that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,
   And with a virtuous vizard hide deep vice.

Mens palates are as various as their faces, and like a good ordinary we would offer up a dish for every palate. In the time of the ancient Romans we are told that the fat paps of the sow where held a great dainty. For those that have a relish for such a repast we recommend Mrs. Wood, and can assure them, such paps as she possesses are seldom to be met with. She keeps the house, and is wife to 'squire P—'s coachman, late of the stables, Bolton street; her front is well brazen'd; her face is continually upon the full grin, and as for talking bawdy, swearing, or bare fac'd indecency, she could vie with the ancient Meselina of Rome; she dispenses her favours for any sum to one whose arms are sufficiently long to embrace her, and may do now, but in the dog days must be intolerable.

(p. 100)

   ——————Oh she's all softness,
   All melting mild, and calm as a rock'd infant;
   Nor can you wake her into cries, by heaven!
   She's the child of love, and she was born in smiles.

Oh may the giddy rake, whose head overpowered by the effects of the grape, whose every thought, whose every idea lies centered in the gratification of a sensual appetite; whole impetuosity indiscriminately rushes him on the first object that presents herself, may he, at this his most unguarded hour, rest in the arms of this enchanting girl whose good nature, care, and attention, might make him reflect with pleasure on the past folly. In her he'll meet with every pleasing accomplishment the heart of man could wish; her natural disposition as yet remains unvitiated by the knowledge of the world, or corrupted by the hand of time. She is now in her eighteenth year, with every amorous feeling nature at this youthful period can furnish her with; nor is she desirous of keeping those feelings a secret. Look in those fine black eyes, there read the perfect language of her soul, for never was silent language so fully seen and felt; she has a fine open handsome countenance, tall of stature, and if her man is pleased with a good song, he won't be disappointed by putting the request to our sweet J—nes, whose good nature is such she never refuses,

   Or should he wish to join the merry dance,
   Where the brisk couplets artfully advance.

Here likewise with our charmer as a partner would he be equally delighted; here she displays such a leg and foot, and with so much activity, sprightliness, and judgment, that none can see but admire, admire but love; with all these qualifications, say you, she cannot be a bad bedfellow; she has equal merits in bed, and pleases there with equal certainty. She is neither covetous, nor will she sink below what her real merits deserve; if after this, and our readers recollecting she is but lately arrived from the lewd mountains of Wales, he thinks two guineas to much, he had better steer some other course.

(pp. 101-102)

   'Till haply wandering in the fields of air,
   Some fiend had whisper'd C—sd—l, thou art fair.

We cannot help thinking but this was the case with our charmer in question; who, as we have heard, felt her first desire for the sport from meer inclination; she is tall and genteely framed, a pretty innocent looking face, and a pair of tempting breasts, that nineteen blooming autumns have brought to full maturity; a lively blue eye and flaxen hair; a pretty reserved manner, (excepting when exhilirated by the chearful glass) which adds a particular grace to every feature, and makes her doubly pleasing, fully verifying Dr. Armstrong,

   The coyley yielded kiss charms most,
   And gives the most sincere delight;
   Cheapness offends.

Her temper is sweet, her manners affable, and her disposition good. She is remarkably fond of dancing, and on that account frequents most of the public hops; where she generally picks up her spark, which is no longer a spark for her, if he is obliged to change the last guinea to pay for coach hire.

(pp. 103-104)

   Give me a nymph with all her charms,
   A full grown nymph to fill my arms;
   And leave to them that cannot feel,
   The insipid things they call genteel.

Strange it is, but not less strange than true, that Englishmen in general have a great itch for variety; and according to our promissary note in the preface, we here present them with one of the finest, fattest figures as fully finished for fun and frolick as fertile fancy ever formed; fraught with every melting charm that can be found in the field of Venus, fortunate for the true lovers of fat, should fate throw them into the possession of such full grown beauties. Can you conceive the lightest tints of an Italian sky? such then her melting eye; can you figure to your imagination the swelling ripeness of two tempting cherries? such then her lips; though some might be led to imagine if they were a size less, they would be full as tempting. Can you place before your eyes, two beds of down for Cupids to sport on? such then her breasts. Would you wish for an ambush, for some of their more wanton brothers to play at hide and seek in? show them her Cyprian mounts. Have you a desire to roll in the loose luscious lap of lip-inviting luxury? spend an hour in her arms; that is, if Mr. C—tt—n should not be there first; he being so great a favourite, she is always denied when in his company. If not at home, she is to be found at any of the public hops, and in general with her favourite man, who we are told, won her first by virtue of his fiddle-stick, and has, since her first attachment, kept her in very good tune; if any of our readers wishes to try a tune with her, he must pay for it; but she is not at all exorbitant in her demands, seldom wishing to turn money away.

(pp. 104-105)

   Well pleas'd at the frolic, she laugh'd at the pain,
   And wish'd with more ardour, to try it again;
   Which, when handled and dandled, and made fit for use,
   She push'd with less pain, as the parts grew more loose;
   Then upping and downing, kind nature told how,
   She cry'd over-raptur'd, it does not hurt now.

This was her confession to her dear Mr. Wh—te, had she less partiality for him, her friends in general would have a greater partiality for her; she has a tolerable pretty mouth, we wish we could pay her teeth the same compliment; that mouth she thinks serves as an index to its cousin below; to be sure she has learned the wrigling part of pleasing, and would willingly make her gentlemen believe, when in the heat of the engagement, that he is giving her pain; but however large the premises may be, she certainly has attained a very pleasing method of contracting them, never meeting with one she could not perfectly well accommodate, from an infant shoe to a jack boot. She is of the middling size, with dark hair and eyes; retains a good complexion without the assistance of rouge or pearl powder; is very lively and chearful, and as a conversation piece only, would make the time pass away agreeable enough, being chearful and good humoured, with a pleasant smile upon her countenance; will drink a chearful glass to George the third with pleasure, and whilst she has the glass in one hand, has no objection to see his picture in the other; but sooner than her dear man should want, she would retail her charms at five shillings an hour all day long.

(pp. 106-107)

   Those formal lovers be for ever curst,
   Who fetter'd free-born love with honour first;
   Who through fantastic laws, are virtue's fools,
   And against nature, will be slaves to rules.

We cannot pretend to say where this curious oddity lives, that being a circumstance she carefully conceals; and what is more extraordinary, she never can be prevailed on to go into taverns or other houses with a gentleman. To what purpose then (some reader may say) is she inserted here, if she will not go into a house to dispense her favors, nor is it known where she is to be found? A little patience, good sir, and you will be informed where she is to be found, and how to procure her favours. If you walk on the right hand side of the way, from the corner of Cheapside along St. Paul's Church-Yard, and thence to the bottom of Ludgate-Hill, just after sunset, and meet with a beautiful woman about twenty, tall and finely shaped, with fine black eyes, and hair of the same hue, that floats in curls down her back, and worn without powder, and a bewitching dimple in each cheek, you may give a shrewd guess you have found Miss K—lp—n. Her dress is in general silk, sometimes a pale blue, but oftener a black, and a large white sattin cloak, trimmed and lined with rich brown fur; her head is in general bedecked with a blue beaver, with a profusion of white feathers; and if on accosting her, you are as much dazzled with her wit, her smart repartees, and her delicate agreeable raillery, as with her person and dress, you may be then absolutely certain it is the lady.——But you may say, when found, of what service is it, when she will neither take you home with her, nor go into any house with you? A little more patience, sir, if you please, though she refuses to go into any house with you, are there not hackney coaches on every stand? we have not said she will deny entering one of them with you; that is if she likes your person and conversation. And here let us add, no frothy coxcomb, no male adonis, conceited of his own dear person, no shoe stringed effeminate puppy, no insipid empty chatterer, can hope to succeed with her.

If, reader, thou art neither of these, and should meet with, and please Miss K—p—n, she will take as length'ned a ride with you as you please; and if you have the prudence to draw up the blinds, she will be as free as you please, and you may enjoy her charms, Jehu like, as long as you can. She is framed for love, and will melt like a snow ball in the sun. She will embrace you with unfeigned rapture, open all her charms to receive your manly tribute, and perhaps appoint another meeting.

We have rather enlarged on this lady, on account of the singularity of her disposition; and what will add to your wonder is, that she never will receive any money, but take the offer as an affront. These circumstances make us conclude that K—lp—n, the name she has assumed sometimes, is not her real name, and that she is not a woman of the town, but some married city lady, who takes this method of getting home deficiencies supplied abroad, and, as she is cautious of her character, uses these precautions. By not going to any house, she avoids detection; by chusing none but those whose conversation is congenial to her own, she obliges none but men of sense and honour; and by he constantly refusing money, she demonstrates that love for love is her motto; that her love of the sport is her motive; perhaps she may have another reason for chusing a leathern conveniency as the scene of her delights. We have been told that the undulating motion of the coach, with the pretty little occasional jolts, contribute greatly to enhance the pleasure of the critical moment, if all matters are rightly placed. This she may have experienced, and therefore as pleasure is her search, no wonder she prefers every delicate addition to the gross sum.

(pp. 107-110)

       In the middle of me,
       You plainly may see,
   A thing that will suit every man;
       And when you are in it,
       The critical minute,
   Ensure as fast as you can.

A young tit of Mother Gr—y's own procuring, and that our reader should not mistake the old abbess, we will give a short description of her. If you chance to visit her in the morning, the smell of yellow usquebaugh will salute your nostrils, of which she takes copious draughts before breakfast. In all her actions she shews the lewdness of a monkey, and the letchery of a goat; she has lately been fired by P——, the French frizeur, but knowing the use of murcury, she applied it in such a manner that she procured an effectual salivation, and enabled her to take into her house the same squinting gentleman that present acts as her fine man; she boasts of her knowledge of great men, and there is scarce a lord or duke in the land that has not been her cull. We can but pity our little girl in question for being so unhappily situated; she is a charming sprightly lass, and so fond of kissing, and so perfect a mistress in the art, that she will frequently force nature to a dissolving pitch, before the right parts come in proper contract; her liveliness of disposition, and activity in the sports of Venus, make her so desirable a bed-fellow, that her magic ring is as much sought after as the philosopher's stone; has good hair and teeth, a plump round, firm breast, and confined merely as an object to sensual desire, possesses every qualification a sensualist can desire. She is to be met with every night at Sterling's, and being newly come on to the town, and possessing too much innocence, as well as ignorance, to fight the world as she ought, she is frequently bilked; but this there is no doubt she will soon get the better off, particularly if she follows the precepts and advice of the old lady she lives with.

(pp. 111-112)

   Behold her round the vine, in loose attire,
   Her panting bosom thrills with soft desire,
   Which white and firm invites the amorous hand,
   And never fails to make the member stand;
   Then to her couch she'll lead the conquered boy,
   Who in her feels a tickling pinching joy.

Bishopsgate-street is the place that gave birth to this volatile charmer; her father moved in the sphere of a hackney-coachman, and reared this daughter of Venus with no small care, till she attained her sixteenth year, at which period, a young man about twenty wooed her, and she did not repulse him; but found his embraces so agreeable, that she soon wished for food more substantial than kisses; but then the thought of sacrificing her character to her pleasure was a bar not easily surmounted, but nature called so loud for its favorite choak pear, that she resolved to throw herself into the arms of the vigorous youth, and for the first time suck the juice of the enchanting fruit; a few promises and vows of his, fully preponderated all her maiden niceties, and she soon yielded to the giddy impulse of her passion;

   She did not stay for marriage, that stale trick,
   But lost her reputation for a——;

but the cruel laceration that this first attack was productive of, obliged her to confine herself to her bed two days, and led her parents to the discovery of their daughter's shame, which so highly incensed them, that they abandoned her to the world at large; and from this aera we may date her entrance into life. The Kite, in Catherine-street, first swooped upon her, and carried her to the nest as a fine prey, and she was not mistaken; she proved such, and for six months never was in want of culls; at the end of this time she deserted the mother abbess, took apartments in Glanville-street, and traded on her own bottom, where she figured away with tolerable grace for three months, and then removed to her present situation. She is diminitive in size, with fine black eyes, large firm, and full breasts, a handsome mouth, pretty curling brown ringlets, and delicate little hands; a very pretty leg and foot, which is at all times ready to divide and house its old friend, at the very low price of one ounce of silver.

(pp. 113-115)

   —————The self same cates
   Still offer'd, soon the appetite offend;
   The most delicious soonest.

How happy would it be for the author of this anniversary publication, could he procure a friend to new christen the features, that the reader might with less fatigue go through this heap of tautology, but as that end is not yet accomplished, we must steer according to the old line,

   An eye must still be an eye, and a tooth a tooth;

both of which our young Venus, who has just reached her seventeenth year, possesses in a superlative degree. She strongly points to your imagination a casket of orient pearls, the former of two living diamonds, whose language so forcibly invite the blind boy to the happy cloyster, that there is seldom many fleeting moments before an almost involuntary attack must be made. Her heaving breasts foretell the coming joy; the liquid eye declares it nearer still; the interrupted sigh, the sudden gush, if premature and involuntary twist of the limbs speaks a flowing of the tide, and the critical oh! bids the silly pen defiance to express. She is of a good size, and well form'd, of a lively and sweet disposition, has been but a short time in life, and has beautiful dark hair;

   Her eye brows arch'd, and rather full than thin,
   To shade the dazzling light that dwells within.

She has met with many admirers but showing lately too great a partiality for the gentleman whose name she assumes, (a horse jockey) she has lately sunk a little in the world; his late inconstancy, however, has wrought so powerfully upon her, that she is now soliciting the favours and support of her old friends; she is of a good size, and well made, of a lively and sweet disposition, loves a glass of Madeira, but never takes a glass in one hand without having prudence in the other, and is particularly careful that the effects of Bacchus shall not prevent the more sensible joys, of Venus. Two pounds two shillings is her price to strangers, but if a very old and good, acquaintance, she will not refuse half the sum.

(pp. 115-117)

   If any wench Venus's girdle wears,
      Altho' she be ever so ugly,
   Roses and lilys will quickly appear,
      And her face look wond'rous smugly.

In some respect Miss C—— verifies this remark of Mr. Gay, for very little else than her wearing Venus's girdle can invite any to admire so plain a countenance; she is tall and lusty, with dark hair and eyes, a very indifferent set of teeth, and a very flat face; she is now twenty-five, has followed the trade some years, and never refuses any sum scarce that is offered her.

(p. 117)

This pretty piece of animation wants not the aid of art to make her shine one of the most conspicuous in the list of trading nymphs; altho' she cannot be called very handsome, still she is a fine girl, and nature has sufficiently furnish'd her with those beauties the nicest hand of art would only deface. Her want of pride (which is in this age a very rare perfection) sets off to superior advantage every feature; her goodness of temper and disposition acts as a security to her most valuable acquaintance, and her justness of principle gains her the esteem of all who have the happiness of knowing her. She is the daughter of a gentleman who holds a considerable place under government, has had a genteel education, and seems quite untainted with the vices of the town; her great attachment to Mr. J——n, of the theatre, is a bar to her seeing much company; with them that has the good fortune to sleep with her, will find she still enjoys the pleasure without the least satiety; no licenc'd fair during the honey moon can charm with more rapture, or feel the poignant bliss with more extacy; every inviting motion is us'd, every limb employ'd, to make the dying transports meet. Her own home is the place where she in general sees her company, and every visitor that passes the night in her arms, she expects will make her two guineas richer.

(pp. 118-119)

   Fancy itself, e'en in enjoyment, is
   But a dumb judge, and cannot tell its bliss.

Mrs. W—bst—r is the daughter of a gentleman, deceased, has received a good education, which she improves by an excellent natural understanding; her age is twenty-one, her figure tall, and every limb elegantly proportioned; she possesses an agreeable face, but we will not flatter her by calling it a pretty one, being too thinly formed to constitute beauty, and too much pitted with the small pox to be stiled handsome; still she commands a beautiful pair of dark eyes, which give a most pleasing, amorous expression to her whole countenance, and makes her, tho' not a pretty, still a very desirable girl; she possesses a lively and entertaining manner, with an affable disposition, and refined, delicate sentiments, which has lately very much been abused by the brutality of her late keeper, Mr. K—d, well known at Garraway's coffee house, for the lowness of his birth, and still greater meanness of his sentiments. He was some time since a corn-factor, but has now relinquished that, and now all his business, delight, and employment, seems to be that of persecuting Mrs. W——. In the course of last summer he arrested her for the paltry sum of twenty-five pounds, which, from the natural consequences of not paying immediately, amounted to sixty pounds, and upwards. Indeed, could the whole conduct of this old r—l be summed up, it would be impossible to describe his cruelty to Mrs. W. which proceeds merely from his [her?] resolution not to live with a wretch, whose cruelty, and her own disposition, obliges her to despise. It is from such kind of usage as this that has taught Mrs. W. prudence and discretion in all her engagements with the men, nor will she ever admit a visitor to take any liberties, without first knowing the value he fits on her company; and from the appearance which her present keeper enables her to make, she expects to be something considerable.

(pp. 119-121)

   Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
   And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse.

This is fully verified in Mrs. S. who is never so good a companion as when a little enlivened with the juice of the grape but, always guided by prudence and discretion, she never goes so far as to render herself the least unpleasant. Her figure is tall, elegant and stately.

   Her full orb'd chest lie open to the gale,
   And teach the lily whiteness in the vale.

Her legs and feet are particularly neat and clean; she sings a good song, is a very good friend to mirth and good humour, and always steers clear of vulgarity. She is now in her twentieth year, possessed of every charm that encouraging age can boast, and but a very few months has left Hampshire; we therefore think two guineas bestowed upon her cannot be regretted.

(pp. 121-122)

   Panting she lay, and fetch'd long double sighs,
   Whilst with thick mists pleasure had dimmed her eyes.

Some girls have been debauched by delusive arts, and under promises of marriage, and others have commenced harlots through want, but neither of these motives actuated this lady's principles; it was mere lewdness that overpowered all nature's works, and stamped the principles of conjunction and copulation at a very early period: Ere twelve summers had warmed her constitution, she learned the use of different machines, and felt the effects of friction as soon as she had any genial fluid within her. Who first stamped her virgin mould, we are at a loss to tell, but from the luxuriance of the present soil, guess it was broke open at an early period. She is a very luscious looking piece, with dark eyes and hair, a very good complexion, tall, and genteely formed, with a charming slender leg, and a pretty foot, which she never troubles the gentlemen to stoop very low to have a perfect view of. She is very good natured, sings a good song, and is in bed a charming companion, particularly at this season of the year; for she is desirous of having every part in contact the whole night. In regard to price, she has one fixed rule; she always measures a gentleman's may-pole by a standard of nine inches, and expects a guinea for every inch it is short of full measure.

(pp. 122-123)

   She thrust among the bushes her fair hand,
   To draw the plant; and every plant she drew,
   She shook the stalk, and brushed away the dew.

This lady's character answers exceedingly well to her name, being exquisitely well skilled in the art of raising plants in a hot-bed; this she practices on her own bottom, but still wishes for a partner to be concerned in the business. Her person is pleasing, she has the roses in her cheeks, encircled with beds of never fading lilys; is as strait as a pine of two years growth, though not quite so tall; her locks shine like black maiden hair, and she is as full of juice as a ripe amber goose-berry; she takes a guinea to be engrafted upon, and is a very agreeable sprig of hare-hound. She is much esteemed by the lovers of planting, for having a beautiful show of navel-wort, and her fondness for rampions and amber vitae, she despises fool-stones, cuckow pintle, Jews ears, or birch; but particularly likes Adam's Apple-tree, sensitive plant, stich-wort, nutmegs, and such valuable productions. To all such she is free, for her lips opens her lady's mantle, encloses them in her convolvulus, pours down a whole volley of seed, and never quits them whilst they have a drop of sap.

(pp. 123-124)

   What various charms can M-ns-n boast,
      By nature thus befriended;
   Whose legs impart a charm when cross'd,
      And charming when extended.

Observe her well, the oblique glance, the lascivious look, the frequent heave of the breasts fully speak her inward feelings; but can any of our readers account for her immoderate fondness for sugar plumbs? it must certainly be that that induced, her to take the famous little Jemmy B—tl—r into her train, the upper mouth he keeps constantly supplied with its favourite food; but we fear Jemmy has not parts sufficient to supply the lower with a tenth part of its necessary food. She therefore solicits the favours of the good natured public for the necessary supplies to that inchanting spot. She is of a good size, and every limb well proportioned. Knowing the beauty of her hand and arm, she takes particular care they shall not pass unnoticed for want of being seen; convinced of the delicate proportion of her leg and foot, she is very careful their covering shall not discredit them, and has a pleasing knack of keeping them constantly exposed to sight; and being taught by the eyes of her admirers the influence her neck and breasts command, she covers them with so thin a veil, that the smallest blue branch is easily covered; her eyes she cannot hide, nor does she wish it; they are plain indications of nature's central spot, and beam with all the fire of the enchanting spot. Two guineas is her price, and should Jemmy be there he must retire if she thinks fit.

(pp. 124-126)

   ————What woman, when
   Her blood boils up, and wantons in her veins,
   When her hot panting pulse beats to the joy;
   What woman then would quench her generous flame
   in an inactive tedious husband's arms,
   That fires and jades our expectation
   In the first stretch of love; then duly falls
   To his old trot, and drudges out the course?

Altho' we cannot assert that this lady is actually married, we can with truth venture to affirm there are many that have entered the matrimonial circle, that does not possess the same degree of constancy for their husbands, as this lady does for her generous keeper. He is to be sure an Hibernian gentleman and a captain, two powerful inducements, or rather compellers, to her keeping within bounds; the first being generally passionate and cruel when irritated, and the profession of the latter is, we must imagine, a powerful bar. But still she is not impregnable, and where a gentleman (for that he must be) possesses the proper means, there is not much doubt of his success; flattery is a bait that few females can withstand, let every word and action be well cloathed in her richest garb; this incense must be offer'd at the shrine with pains, perseverance, honour, secrecy, and liberality joined with it, and when she is thoroughly convinced that you possess all these requisites, she will unfold her haven of delight, and put you in possession of such charms that would not disgrace a monarch's couch; her tell-tale lascivious eye acts as a charming index to that unquenchable flame that fills the whole frame, and swallows up the other senses; she is rather short, but admirably well made, and when once convinced of the honour and parts of her paramour, gives such a loose to her unbounded appetite, that very few of the Cyprian choir can match her.

(pp. 126-127)

Oh she is all the heart would wish, or eye admire,
The purest child of love by beauty fir'd;
Whom but to love, need only but to see,
To see, admire, such heaven born symmetry;
To touch, to feel, ah, there's the potent hold
That chains the will, and molds the snowy heart
To love's delightful glow; the milky hills
Half rising, half suppress'd, with glowing ardor
Ask corporeal pressure, and invite
The carnal weapon to its burning sheath.

This lady, in consequence of a trivial fall out with her parents, (which by the bye she had long sought for) left her home, and flushed with all the fire of youth impetuous; burning with every desire the young hand of lust could create, and still a stranger, except in idea, to the grand subduer of their fires, she sought this expanded field of delight, nor sought in vain; her youth and person soon attracted the eye of an old male veteran in our band, and her innocence and simplicity were soon overpowered, her maiden honours plucked, and all her virgin claims at once lie dead. The lively girl in question is now entering her sixteenth year, has only been four months on the town, the thinly covered grot below has therefore not yet sufficiently felt the general influence of its much sought for acquaintance, to be very thickly covered, still she thinks it proof against any attack, nor fears to meet the most vigorous, tho' destitute of every other weapon. She is rather darkly complexioned, with fine hazel eyes, is short, and inclinable to be lusty, and as pretty a leg and foot as man would wish to divide, which any good natured man, with two guineas in his pocket that he has no objection to spare, may lie between the whole livelong night, and taste all the raptures he can possibly expect to meet with, in one as yet so untutored in the art.

(pp. 128-129)

   Si javois pour heritage,
      Le tresor le plus charmant,
   je vous en donnerois en gage,
      Et mon coeur pour un present.

It is only six months that this lady has left her native country, and at present speaks very little English. She is young and lively, (but still does not seem to possess so much vivacity as the majority of her countrywomen;) she loves to revenge her countrymen's cause on the English, by doing what the most valorous Frenchman would never effect, that is, to bring Britons on their knees; she is now about twenty two, rather short and fat, with a plump face, and such a roguish lear in her eye, that cannot be resisted. Several of our brave officers have spent some of their best blood in her service, and regretted they had no more to shed. Her lovely dark hair seems like a net to catch lovers, and her lower tendrils, which sport on her alabaster mount of Venus, are formed to give delight. She has one qualification which many English girls want, which is a certain cleanliness in the Netherlands. They are contented to wash their faces, necks, and hands; but Mademoiselle, like many of her countrywomen, thinks that not enough; she performs constant ablutions on the gulph of pleasure, and keeps it constantly fresh, cool, and clean, never putting a morsel into that mouth, till she has fully absterged every possible remnant of the last meal. She constantly mounts her bidet, and with a large sponge laves the whole extent of the parish of the mother of all saints. Some may, perhaps, think her a female spy, or a smuggler; but surely a girl, who so freely discloses her own secrets, can have no improper aim at those of government; and her commodity cannot be pronounced as contraband when it hath so often been duly entered.

She dresses quite in the French stile and taste, lays on a profusion of rouge and pearl powder, and is not particularly partial to money, but will condescend to take a couple of guineas, not as payment, but solely as 'une gage d'amour.

(pp. 129-131)

   Our souls their former joys renew,
    We raise new sport, and wanten jesting;
   Our eyes each others charms review,
    In every form of love contesting.
   At last, our body's warm'd with mutual fire,
   To prove each others aid to join in one conspire.

This truly lovely woman is about twenty, and, whilst she remains in a state of silence, commands every attracting charm the heart of man can wish; she speaks French tolerably well, and sings inimitably; she has now trod the path of love four years, during which, time pretty Emma has experienced every vicissitude the cruel hand of fortune could possibly inflict. At present Mr. B. a merchant, in Castle-Court, is the gentleman from whom she derives her principal support; she has fine blue melting eyes, with an aquiline nose, and a very pretty mouth, when her tongue is inactive, but when once she gives a loose to that unruly member, she pours forth such a torrent of blackguardism that shall destroy every attracting feature, and spoil one of the most desirable looking girls in the Cyprian market. Our damsel is therefore the most agreeable looking girl when asleep; in bed she is truly amorous, and a charming sportswoman, and when one strain is finished, cries, da capo, with a good grace, for which she expeas five guineas.

(pp. 131-132)

   Had love's fair goddess been so strong in charms,
   Rash Diomede had dropt his vent'rous arms;
   No shameful victory the Greek had won,
   But had a thousand wounds receiv'd instead of giving one.

This tit bit is not above sixteen, rather short; but pretty, having an excellent complexion, with fine blue eyes, light hair, and a very white, and regular set of teeth. Altho' she has not been six months upon the Pave de Londres, (having received a complete education, has learnt to dance, speak French, and play upon the guittar; and has likewise been initiated into all the mysteries of the Cyprian school; having read les Bejoux Indiscrets; the Woman of Pleasure; Rochester's Poems;) she is au fait de tout. Add to this, she has often viewed with rapture all Aretin's postures, and longed for the practice, as well as the theory. No wonder then that she should be inclined to give delight in every possible attitude, and has no kind of objection to yield, with becoming modesty, to take a coup à  la levrette. She is at present in keeping by a citizen, who has suffered her to assume his name, but is always pleased when Mr. T. is not with her, to accommodate any gentleman in her pretty apartment a whole night, for which she expects two guineas.

(pp. 133-134)

   In framing thee, heav'n took unusual care,
   And stampt thee fairest of the Cretan fair.

There is something so very engaging in the person of this lady, that those gentlemen, who once visit her, seldom or ever fail repeating it. In her deportment she is free and open, without the least tinge of affectation, in size rather below mediocrity, fine dark hair, and bewitching black eyes; a complexion between the fair and brunette: her features are remarkably delicate, and, conjunctively taken, fully verifies the Poet.

   None can observe her features but approve,
   There's grace with beauty, dignity with love.

Her breasts are finely proportioned, and delicately moulded for love's tender attack, and swell and recede the melting language of the heart; the grove beneath, delicately shaded by a sable thicket, is fraught with all its proper sensibility, and, well knowing the value of her charms, she is not one that can be sported with, not will she suffer any liberty beyond the strictest bounds of decency to take place, without the payment of one piece before hand.

(pp. 134-135)

   Firm breasts, white belly, and such thighs,
   Gaze ghastly envy, and forget her size.

This lady's affable temper, and engaging disposition, fully compensates for her size, which is rather diminutive, and the innumerable beauties of her face, when put in competition with this deficiency, ought entirely to efface the smallest idea of it. From her youth we might be led to imagine her deficient in the practice of love, but we can assure our readers he will meet but few in the cyprian field that will shew better sport; her hair is a beautiful glossy dark brown; her eye brows finely arc'd, and of the same hue, which, contrasted by a pair of beautiful cerulean eyes, and cheeks of living roses and lilies, places her in the rank of first rate beauties,

   Her rising breasts two hillocks are of snow,
   On which two little fragrant rose buds grow;

below which descends the smooth track of a belly, which conveys to the mind an idea of animated ivory, at the bottom of which is display'd a lovely chesnut fringe, terminated by a pouting slash hole, which is far from being insensible to the raptures of its grisly antagonist, and with pleasure opens its mouth to receive his well erected crest, who enters with his accustomed pride, but soon returns with fallen head, as if conscious of its presumption; but the mistress of this formidable enemy is well acquainted with the means of restoring life to the vanquished member, but only to make it more sensible of its inability. Mercenary views are far from what she aims at; she can give and receive a luscious share of pleasures of copulation; but beginning to know the accustom'd ways of the baser sort of men, and not being always confident of the honour of her paramour, if he is a stranger, she must receive her compliment of half a guinea, or a guinea, according to the length of the intended visit, before she proceeds to any kind of business.

(pp. 135-137)

   Her every thought, and wishes, and desires,
   Agree with yours, and burn with mutual fires.

This merry, little lively tit appears to be about sixteen, and is never to be met without a smile upon her countenance, and a frisky song at her tongue's end; she is very short, a brunette in complexion, with a lustfully sparkling eye, and jetty ringlets down her back. The sister hills, with their bewitching coral pinnacles, are irresistibly firm, and speak their silent language very forcibly to the heart. The grove beneath, shading the font of life, is drest in sable, and secures the internal mansion from any sudden attack. She is generally very expeditious in dying, therefore we would advise her antagonist to push the warm contest with agility, or it will not be a dead heat; she is a very willing and amorous bedfellow, never against repetition, and such a good natured, and good temper'd creature, that she seems to say to every one,

   With thee secur'd,—I'd smile at fortune's frowns,
   And all her threats defy,—nor court her smiles.

(pp. 137-138)

   You gaulky steeple, you stalking stag,
   Your husband must come from Brobdignag.

It is a pity that so noble a piece could not be preserved solely for the use of his Majesty's Grenadiers; she is more than six foot; she is now about twenty-five, possesses an elegance in her person, (we wish we could pay the same compliment to her actions) light hair and eyes, which are continually lighted up by the all powerful brandy bottle; as she excells in the height of stature so is she the height of good nature, for she never refuses any gentleman her favors, that has any money in his pocket; she is surely too the height of vulgarity, for she will come her eyes and limbs, with any lady from Billingsgate, or Jack tar from Wapping; but her greatest fault, and what makes more disgusting her other imperfections, is her violent attachment to drinking; she generally contrives to pin her basket completely by nine o'clock; then she swears most abominably, and is as great a proficient in barefaced indecency, as Messalina of antient Rome. We therefore set her up as a beacon; in spite of all, when she pleases, she can be a good companion, and speaks the English language remarkably well; she is never denied to any one, except Mr. G. a watchmaker, in the city, should be engaged with her, he being her particular friend.

(pp. 138-139)

   To tell the beautie's of the place,
   How weak is human tongue;
   The noble fringes which it grace,
   In golden ringlets hung.

Charlotte received a good education, and was once far above the perambulating class of nymphs, and might, perhaps, have remained so, had not her violent attachment to the curs'd buckle and belt society, rendered her disgusting in the eyes of all her friends; Mr. G—bl—t, brother to a tallow chandler, of Carnaby-Market, took particular notice of her, and removed her once from her hated crew, allowed her a tolerable provision, and would have continued her friend, had not her rage for the old society made him forfeit his esteem. She is now rather in the wane, having seen at least twenty-eight summers, tall, and very well proportioned; her complexion is but indifferent, but, being a native of Germany, is not to be wondered at; she speaks French also, but we cannot get her to confess she has been ten years on the town, unless you pay her a guinea fee for confessing.

(pp. 139-140)

   She smil'd, and gave a kiss might Jove disarm,
   And from his hand the brandished thunder charm.

If this good natured willing girl should chance to be engaged herself, she will with the greatest pleasure provide her gentleman with another companion; she is a genteel woman, and a very chearful companion, completely mistress of the sport, and can turn and twist in all the enchanting folds of love, and press you to her breast,

   In all the extatic raptures of a lover;

will enjoy, or seem to enjoy, every high toned sensation; will bend eagerly to meet the succulent shower of bliss, and repeat the amorous content as frequently as you please, being first convinced that you will make her a guinea richer in the morning.

(pp. 140-141)

This is a comely woman, about forty, and boasts she can give more pleasure than a dozen raw girls. Indeed she has acquired great experience, in the course of twenty years study, in natural philosophy, in the university of Portsmouth, where she was long the ornament of the back of the point. She is perfectly mistress of all her actions, and can proceed regularly from the dart of her tongue, and the soft tickle of her hand, to the extatic squeeze of her thighs; the enchanting twine of her legs; the elaborate suction of her lower lips, and the melting flood of delight, with which she constantly bedews the mossy root of the tree of life, and washes the testimonies of manhood; tho' past her meridian, she is still agreeable; her eyes are black as well as her hair, of which she has an abundance both above and below, her breasts are large but not flabby, and her skin is fair. Five shillings is her price, and she earns it with great industry: but if her lover seems capable of prolonging the delicious banquet, and is remarkably well provided, she will abate weight for inches. Her chief and best customers are sea officers, whom she particularly likes, as they do not stay long at home, and always return fraught with love and presents.

(pp. 141-142)

   Dieux; qu'a t-il vu, que d'appas enchanteurs!
   Sous un bosquet, d'ou coule une fountaine,
   Ou chaque mois le doux printemps ramene;
   Pour nos plaisirs, l'abondance & les fleurs,
   It voit un trou, le joli precipice;
   Ce n'etact point le trou de saint Patrice.

This lady has lately been a teacher in a French boarding school, but taking a liking to a young Clergyman in the neighbourhood, she made a conjunction of calvanism with the established church, and he propagated the gospel in her foreign parts with great assiduity; but her immoderate love of the sport, after having once tasted the power of the British constitution, speedily brought her to our market, here to her great discredit and loss she has form'd a connection with a boy by the name of N—wb—y, brother to the noted attorney well known as a flash man among the ladies, and one whose principles will not bear the strictest scrutiny. She is a tall, genteel looking figure, speaks English pretty well, fine dark eyes and hair, a tolerable complexion, thanks to Mr. Warren, who occasionally fills up those indentions the small pox has been busy in making, and makes her a desirable piece enough. Her low countries are said to be of ample dimensions, and she is so publick spirited, that she makes no distinction of persons or nations; but will say, je vous remercie, to any man for the smallest piece of gold.

(pp. 143-144)

   Embrace me close, and join thy lips to mine,
   There's no security in other joys;
   Here happiness is rivetted alone;
   Here nothing fades, nothing decays, the sweets
   Immortal are, and never cease to spring.

This is a fine girl, lately come from Cambridge, and just dancing into her twentieth year, we have known her but a very little time, but from her complexion, which is bordering on the brunette; her lively hazel eyes, and the lovely pouting orbs of nature, we can venture to affirm her no bad sportswoman; the grove beneath is beautifully border'd by a sable fringe, the ruby portals of which when unfolded, display the coral tipt janitor strutting in all the luscious mess of full fraught womanhood, and will safely conduct the well erected engine into the harbour of delight, and bath him, in the choicest sweets of nature, for two pounds, two shillings.

(pp. 144-145)

THE CITIES OF LONDON AND WESTMINSTER, Copied from the Camera Obscura in the Royal Observatory at Greenwich. (Frontispiece.)

IT is impossible to conceive a more lively or more accurate view of the Metropolis than that which is given in this Plate.  It embraces the whole of the grand outline, and every principal feature of London, together with that part of the Thames which exhibits most of that busy scene of navigation and commerce for which it is so highly celebrated.  The view is taken from the Royal Observatory in Greenwich-park, and is actually copied from the table of the Camera Obscura there, by permission of the Astronomer Royal: speaking of which, Mr. Addison, in his Spectator, No. 414, says, 'The prettiest landscape I ever saw was one drawn on the walls of a dark room at Greenwich, which stood opposite, on one side, to a navigable river, and on the other to a park.  The experiment is very common in optics.  Here you might discover the waves and fluctuations of the water in strong and proper colours, with the picture of a ship entering at one end, and sailing by degrees through the whole piece.  On another there appeared the green shadows of trees waving to and fro with the wind, and herds of deer among them in miniature.' — 'The scene,' says Dr. Blair, in his Critical Examination of the Style in the Spectator, 'which Mr. Addison refers to is Greenwich-park, with the prospect of the Thames, as seen by a Camera Obscura, which is placed in a small room in the upper story of the Observatory; where I remember to have seen, many years ago, the whole scene here described, corresponding so much to Mr. Addison's account of it in this passage, that, at the time, it recalled it to my memory.'

The foreground of the Plate is the foot of the park, beyond which is the town of Greenwich, the building with the flag being Greenwich-church.  The town to the left is Deptford.  The broad expanse of water to the right is the part of the Thames called Deptford Reach; in which is the King's yard, distinguished by a man of war on the stocks with flags flying, seen beyond the tower of Greenwich-church.  Several men of war are seen in the lower part of the Reach.

On the right of the river is the Isle of Dogs, in which the West India Docks are situated.  The manner in which the river winds may be partly traced in this view.  The light line running through the centre of the Metropolis marks the course of the river, which winds, in a very luxuriant manner, from the western to the eastern extremity of the town; and, afterwards making a great sweep round the point outside of the right of the Plate, stretches again to the left, forming that part which is called Deptford Reach.

The church in the distance, and on the right, is Limehouse-church; and that which is nearer the Reach is Rotherhithe (usually called Redriff), on the south bank of the Thames.  The next church is St. George's in the East.  St. Paul's standing conspicuously in the centre; and Westminster-abbey, with its noble towers, at the extremity on the left; form bold and beautiful objects in this fine picture.

The beautiful pillar which rises to the right of St. Paul's is the Monument; and the extensive square building below, with its turrets, is the Tower of London.  In the background, on the right of the picture, are seen the hills of Highgate and Hampstead, which rise in great beauty and grandeur, bounding the northern side of the town.

(pp. 475-6)

GREENWICH HOSPITAL, THE WEST INDIA DOCKS, &c. (Page 169.)

THE house in the foreground is that of the Ranger of Greenwich-park.  Beyond, are the southern divisions of Greenwich-hospital, with their beautiful colonnades and domes.  Through the interval between these is seen the centre of the grand terrace which runs along the whole front next to the river.  A man of war is passing up the river, and is seen in this opening.  The extensive range of buildings, toward the background, is the finished warehouses of the West India Docks.  They are erected on the northern side of the dock for unloading inward.  Nothing can be imagined more complete than they are.  This dock covers thirty acres; and will contain nearly three hundred sail of West Indiamen.  To the south is a smaller dock for loading outwards.  The ground between these docks and the river is a marsh, called The Isle of Dogs.  It is a peninsula, and is intersected by a canal cut for vessels and craft, permitted to go through this short passage on the payment of certain rates.  The church to the left is St. Anne's, Limehouse.  The whole site embraced by this Plate is peculiarly worthy to be visited.

(p. 477)

GREENWICH PARK. (Page 176.)

THIS is a spot of great natural beauty; and in the Easter and Whitsuntide holidays presents a very gay, busy, and festive scene.  The broad avenue on the hill, seen in the Plate, is the principal attraction to the merry-making folks.  It is extremely steep, and usually thronged; and, every now and then, a group of young men and women, locked hand in hand, rush down this path at full speed; the grand jest and enjoyment of the scene consisting in the falls that happen to the females as well as males in this slippery enterprise.  Greenwich is crowded at these holidays.  In the public-houses is dancing from morning to evening.  Almost every private house of the lower and middle sort make tea and coffee; yet it is often difficult to find room even for a small company; and it is very usual for parties to take a cold repast and wine with them, and dine beneath the trees in the Park, in spots a little retired from the throng.  At such times, it is supposed that from ten to thirty thousand of these holiday keepers have been collected in this Park in a single point of view.  The hills of this Park afford various beautiful views of London, and the Thames with its moving forest of masts.  The building on the brow of the hill is the Royal Observatory. The astronomical apparatus is very excellent; and the whole is worthy of being visited by the curious.

(p. 477)

COURT OF KING'S BENCH. (Page 233.)

THIS Court is an enclosure, formed by a handsome Gothic screen, at the upper end of Westminster-hall, on the left; another enclosure on the right, corresponding with this in style, being the Court of Chancery.  The four judges are seated on one bench under a canopy in the Gothic style; lined at the back with tapestry embroidered with the King's arms, the fasces and other emblems of justice.  Before each is placed a small desk.  The Chief Justice takes the second seat on the left of the Plate; the oldest of the puisne judges being on his right.  This is the chief of the common law courts, and has its name from the King having anciently presided therein in person.  All criminal causes and pleas of the crown are determined in this Court exclusively, as well as civil actions; and the judges hold their offices non durante placito, but quamdiu se bene gesserint.

The judges have no less than five different dresses for various occasions; namely, robes of fine scarlet cloth, trimmed with white ermine; black cloth with white ermine; purple cloth with blue and red shot silk cape and cuffs; scarlet with brown silk cape and cuffs; and gowns of black silk.  The four first are robes of ceremony; and with them is worn the large full-bottomed wig.  The last is seldom worn but when the judge sits at Nisi Prius; and with it is worn the tie wig.  The silk gown of the Chief Justice is distinguished from the rest by a train.  Immediately below the judges are seated the clerks of the court; viz. the master and other clerks of the Crown Office, the master of the King's Bench Office with his deputy, and the clerk of the Rules with his deputy.  Their duty is to take minutes of the several rules and orders of the court according to their respective departments.  These wear a black silk gown and tie wig.  The space immediately below the clerks, and between them and the counsel, is allotted to strangers, and to attorneys and other persons concerned in causes.  The counsel are seated on benches, enclosing this space in the form of an amphitheatre.  A partition called the bar separates the King's counsel's seats from those behind: the former are distinguished also by wearing silk gowns and full-bottomed wigs on the first day of Term, and when pleading before either house of parliament; but on other occasions they appear in tie wigs as other barristers, who wear princes-stuff gowns and tie wigs on all occasions.  On the left of the Plate is the jury box; and on the right a box for the law students.  Behind the counsel's benches is a space usually filled with strangers.  The three royal figures in Gothic niches over the canopy are very ancient, and represent William Rufus, Henry I. and King Stephen.  On the other side of the Hall in the Court of Chancery are three similar statues of Henry the Second, Richard the First, and King John.  The most probable conjecture is that they were placed there about the time of Henry the Third; for although the Hall was rebuilt by Richard the Second, yet the old south wall appears not to have been taken down.  Strangers of distinction are usually invited to sit on the bench, on the left of the judges.  This Court has no gallery; and is so small, that the inconvenience to all who have business in it is extremely great.  On the first day of each Term the judges of all the four courts, after breakfasting with the Lord Chancellor, proceed in state, attended by their respective officers, to Westminster-hall, according to their rank of precedence; the Lord Chancellor going first; next the Chief Justice of the King's Bench; then the Master of the Rolls; the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas; the Chief Baron of the Exchequer; and then the Puisne Judges according to the priorities of their respective courts.  The Serjeants in their robes are drawn up in a line on the right hand side of the Hall to receive them as they pass, when each judge shakes hands with every serjeant, and wishes him a Good Term.

(pp. 478-9)

THE MALL IN ST. JAMES'S PARK. (Page 256.)

THE avenue seen in the Plate is the grand Mall leading from Spring Garden-gate to Buckingham-house, which is seen at the end of the hall.  The building on the right is St. James's Palace, representing the garden front of the drawing-room and presence-chamber.  It is of brick ornamented with stone.  The Park was enclosed by Charles the Second, who planted the avenues, made the canal and the aviary adjacent to the Bird-cage Walk, which took its name from the cages hung in the trees.  The Mall used formerly to be much frequented by company, great part of which was often of the highest fashion.  It was common for it to be so crowded, as to make it very difficult even to pass along.  It is still a Sunday promenade; but its visitors are comparatively few; the fashionable walk at present being the Green-park of an evening, and Hyde-park and Kensington-gardens in the morning.  Peers, Privy Counsellors, Ambassadors, and other persons of distinction, generally have permission to pass through the Park, either on horseback or in carriages, by license from the Secretary of State; and a list of persons enjoying this privilege is hung up in the passage of the Horse-guards, for the direction of the soldier on duty.  The road lies immediately under the walls which separate the gardens of Pall-mall and of the palace from the Park.  On the right of the Plate are seen two of the horse-guards, two of whom regularly patrol the Park when the Royal Family are in town.

(p. 479)

HYDE PARK. (Page 262.)

THE foreground of this Plate represents the entrance of Hyde-park from Piccadilly.  The building on the left is the under-keeper's lodge; the horse-road to the left is the celebrated ride called Rotten-row, which on Sundays, during the spring, if the weather be fine, is crowded by persons ambitious of equestrian fame, or proud of their horses, from those of the highest quality to the apprentice and shopman, who hire their hacks at a livery stable for half a guinea a day.  This hobbyhorsical exhibition has been justly ridiculed in a well-known Prologue, where, alluding to the lateness of the spring, it is said,

'Hors'd in Cheapside, scarce yet the gayer spark
Achieves the Sunday triumphs of the Park;
Scarce yet you see him, dreading to be late,
Scour the New Road, and dash through Grosvenor-gate:
Anxious, yet timorous too! — his steed to shew
The back Bucephalus of Rotten-row!
Careless he seems, yet vigilantly sly,
Woos the stray glance of ladies passing by,
While his off heel, insidiously aside,
Provokes the caper which he seems to chide.'

On the right hand of the ride is a footway leading to Kensington-gardens, which on fine Sundays is crowded from one extremity to the other.  The road to the right of the Plate leads to Grosvenor-gate, opening into Park-lane, and to Cumberland gate, opening into Oxford-street.  Part of that beautiful piece of water, the Serpentine-river, is seen in this view, and in the background are the trees of Kensington gardens, with the dormitory in the front of them, which, at this distance, forms a pleasing object, although it is now literally nothing more than a shelter for cattle from the heat of the sun.

The Plate affords a very lively picture of this bustling scene, which well deserves a visit from the stranger.  Half the confusion of this place is occasioned by the want of sufficient provision for the foot passengers, and of a second gate for carriages and equestrians; by which all going in might have one gate, and all going out another gate.

(p. 480)

THE HORSE GUARDS, OR WAR-OFFICE, AND PARADE OF THE FOOT GUARDS. (Page 234.)

THE building in the centre represents the War-office, or Horse-guards, so called from being the station where that part of his Majesty's troops usually do duty.  It was erected after a design by Vardy, and cost above 30,000l.  The next, on the right of the Plate, is Lord Melbourne's town residence; it was built (under the direction of Holland) for the Duke of York, who exchanged it with the present possessor for a house in Piccadilly, upon the site and gardens of which a very extensive range of buildings called Albany-place has since been erected.  The building at the extremity of the Plate on the right is The Treasury; at the west end of which, enclosed with a wall, are the gardens of the house, occupied by the Chancellor of the Exchequer.  All these are of stone, and produce a fine effect; which however is lessened by the buildings, seen on the left of the Plate, being of brick.  The building on the left is The Admiralty, and the house adjoining to the right, the residence of the First Lord of the Admiralty.  On the top of the former are the Telegraphs, which communicate with the coast.  At the extremity of the left, in the background, is the tower with the spire of St. Martin's church, near Charing-cross.  The ground in front is the Parade of the Foot-guards, and a detachment is represented as marching to the palace to relieve the King's guard, which is done every morning after parade: it is very spacious, is laid with gravel, and is excellently adapted to the purpose.  On the north side of the Parade is placed a fine Turkish piece of ordnance of uncommon length, brought by our troops from Alexandria; it is mounted on a carriage of English workmanship, ornamented with very elegant and appropriate devices.

The coup d'oeil of the public buildings on this spot is one of the finest about the metropolis.  It contains in one view the three principal offices connected with the government of the country; The Treasury on the right, The War-office in the centre, and The Admiralty on the left.

(p. 481)

WESTMINSTER FROM LAMBETH. (Page 265.)

THE view from this spot is uncommonly beautiful.  In the foreground are Lambeth-palace stairs; and on the right, within the cross railing, is the walk, which is separated from the palace gardens by a high wall, and shaded by lofty and venerable trees.  Both are in front of the Archbishop of Canterbury's palace.  The opposite side of the river embraces an uncommon portion of striking objects.  On the left is the Abbey; at the eastern extremity of which is the roof of Henry the Seventh's chapel.  St. Margaret's church is distinguished by a flag on the tower.  The large building, with a turret at each end, is Westminster-hall.  The trees between that and the river are in the gardens of the Speaker of the House of Commons.  In the opening of those trees, toward the left, is seen the east end of the House of Commons, which looks into the Speaker's garden; and a little further to the left, at the upper end of the hall, is seen the House of Lords.

Adjoining to the lower end of the great hall, is a low range of buildings in which the famous Court of Star Chamber (so called from Starra, the Jewish covenants being deposited there in the time of Richard the Second,) was held, which is now occupied by the offices of the Duchy of Lancaster.  Adjoining thereto is the Speaker's house.  It is faced with stone, and in the Gothic style.

The tower and cupola seen immediately above the trees, to the right, are those of the Horse-guards; they are surmounted by a gilt ball, with a vane, and form a pleasing object in the view.  The church seen beyond the Horse-guards is that of St. James's, in Piccadilly; the large church to the right and more advanced to the front is St. Martin's, near the Strand; and that beyond it St. Giles's in the Fields.  The pyramid below the bridge is the Hungerford water-works, which supply Piccadilly, St. James's square and street, and that neighbourhood, with water.  The lofty building on the right, with a tower on the top, is Drury-lane Theatre.  On the right of the Horse guards, that building which overtops the rest is the Banquetting-room, Whitehall, the upper colonnade being seen with the light falling upon it.  The houses between Whitehall and the river are in Privy-gardens.  The mass of building below the bridge, resting upon arches, is the Adelphi, which has a magnificent terrace upon the water.

Westminster-bridge, which is one of the grandest and most beautiful in Europe, is seen to great advantage from Lambeth-walk.  The expanse of water here is extremely fine.  The Plate represents the river at high water; or rather the tide just turned, and running out; and gives a lively idea of this beautiful scene.  In the background are seen the range of hills which run on each side of Hampstead from east to west.

(p. 530)

THE ROYAL PROCESSION TO PARLIAMENT. (Page 267.)

THE Plate represents the large open space before the principal entrance to the House of Lords.  The state carriage is very massive, and profusely decorated with carving and gilding.  It is drawn by eight cream-coloured horses, the off-horse of each pair being led by one of the King's footmen.  The coachman and footmen wear scarlet turned up with blue; the postillion blue; and these liveries are almost covered with broad gold lace.  His Majesty is usually accompanied in the carriage by a Lord of the Bedchamber, and the Groom of the Stole, who assist him to robe after he arrives at the House.  A yeoman of the guards walks on each side of the carriage.  A strong detachment of the horse-guards accompanies the carriage; others of those guards keep the middle of the street clear from carriages and horse and foot passengers, till the procession is closed.  The manner of that duty is accurately represented in the Plate.

The Master of the Horse precedes his Majesty in a state chariot drawn by six horses; as also do some of the other great officers of state, in three coaches drawn each by six horses.  The portico on the right of the Plate is the principal entrance to the House of Lords.  The house with a balcony is Waghorn's coffee-house, with an entrance into the lobbies of the House, and is principally appropriated to the use of the peers or members of the House of Commons, who may be desirous of taking refreshments.  Almost immediately under this house is the entrance to the cellar or vault in which Guy Faux and the other conspirators of 1605 lodged the barrels of gunpowder, designed at one blow to annihilate the three estates of the realm, when assembled in parliament.  The adjoining house, whose gabel-end is seen, is the Ship tavern.  The house in the foreground to the right is the Star and Garter tavern.  All the buildings contiguous to these, in the Plate, contain apartments and offices of the two houses of parliament, with the exception of the lofty gabel-end crowned with a turret, which is the south end of Westminster-hall.

The Gothic building on the left of the Plate is Henry the Seventh's chapel.  The flag seen over the roof is placed on the top of St. Margaret's church.  The modern building beyond, with wings projecting and higher than the centre, is the Ordnance-office.

(p. 483)

THE HOUSE OF LORDS. (Page 268.)

THE Plate represents his Majesty meeting the parliament at the opening of a session.  The King on this occasion wears the coronation robes, which are crimson velvet, trimmed with white ermine spotted with black.  The coronation diadem is on his head, and the sceptre in his right hand.  He is seated on the throne.

On his right the Prince of Wales is seated in a chair of state; and on his left are chairs of state for his six younger sons, the Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent, Cumberland, Cambridge, and Sussex.  On each side are ranged the great officers of state, the Lord Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, the Lord Steward of the Household, &c.  The figure in the view, immediately on the right of the King, is one of the great officers of state bearing the Cap of Maintenance; that immediately on the left is the Lord Chamberlain with a white staff in his hand; and the next to him is another great officer bearing the sword of state.  All the Heralds are also among the King's attendants.  The Lord Chancellor's place is a little advanced on the right of the King.

The peers are robed, and standing; as they always are when his Majesty is present in parliament, until he signifies his permission for them to sit.  The archbishops and bishops are on the right of the throne; the dukes, marquisses, earls, and viscounts, on the left, in succession; and the barons stand across the House below the table, and on the left below the fireplace.  The four figures on the left of the view, with their backs to the spectator, and black patches in their wigs, as well as the four on the right of the plate, are the Judges, in their dress of ceremony.  The figures with their backs to the spectator are the House of Commons; the figure in the centre being the Speaker, in his dress of state.  On his right is the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod.  The Commons stand below the bar, which is a dwarf partition running across the room, at the bottom, dividing off about one-fifth of its length.  Ladies are permitted to be present (by peers' orders) in the manner the Plate represents.  A few strangers are also admitted below the bar, standing behind the Commons; a space (on the right of the plate) being raised two steps above the floor, and enclosed with a rail, for the foreign ministers and other foreigners of distinction.

The robes of the peers are scarlet cloth trimmed with white ermine and gold lace, and lined with white silk.  The Lord Chancellor's robes, on state occasions, are of black figured damask silk ornamented with gold lace.  The different ranks of the peers are distinguished by the number of broad gold laced stripes on each side of the slash on the right side of the robe: a duke having four before the arm and four behind; a marquis, four before and three behind; an earl, three before and three behind; a viscount, three before and two behind; and a baron, two before and two behind.  The Commons (except the Speaker) have no dress of state.

The House of Lords is a very handsome, but not a splendid room.  It was formerly the Court of Requests, and used merely as a passage to the old House of Lords, which was deemed insufficient after the Union.  The tapestry and other ornaments were removed from the old house.  The canopy of state is very accurately represented in the Plate: it is of crimson velvet, ornamented with gold and silver; the arms of the united kingdom, over the chair, being embroidered in silk, and the supporters in silver.  The throne is an armed chair, elegantly carved and gilt, and ornamented with crimson velvet and silver embroidery.  The chair is covered, and its back turned to the House, except when his Majesty is present, or when bills are passed by commission.

Before the throne, with an interval of several feet, is a woolsack, in the centre, which is the seat of the Lord Chancellor, or Lord Speaker, when the King is not present.  There are two other woolsacks, extending from the latter down the room.  On these are seated the Judges when they attend, to afford legal advice to the House, which they do at any time upon order; and also two Masters in Chancery, who are in constant attendance upon the House, being their messengers to the Commons.  Below these woolsacks is a table, on which are laid bills in progress before the House, and all petitions and other papers received by the House.  On each side, and across the room at the foot, are rows of seats with backs, for the peers.  The woolsacks, table, and seats, are covered with fine crimson baize.  The walls are decorated with that beautiful and interesting tapestry representing the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588.  It was made by order of the Earl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral and Commander in Chief on that glorious day.  The Earl sold it to James the First.  The design was drawn by Cornelius Vroom*, and executed by Francis Spiering.  It was not, however, put up until the year 1650.  The story is divided into compartments by broad frames of wainscot; and the heads, which form a border to each design, are portraits of the several gallant officers who commanded in the English fleet on this memorable occasion.  The whole floor is covered with matting.  The House is lighted by three brass branches pendant from the roof; and sconces (of bronze, and of a peculiarly elegant form,) fixed to the walls.

When the House is in its usual sittings, all the space above the Lord Chancellor's woolsack is deemed out of the House, and members of the House of Commons and peers' sons are permitted to stand there.  The mace of the Lord Chancellor, and the great seal, in a purse or bag of state richly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery and the royal arms, are placed on the woolsack, while the House is sitting.  The Commons, as a house, enter by large folding doors at the bottom of the room.  The door for the Lords is at the upper end, and is that which appears on the right of the Plate.  At that end of the House is the King's robing-room.  When bills are passed by a commission, which is always directed to the great officers of state, the three who are present, of whom the Lord Chancellor is always one, take their seats in their robes upon a bench immediately before the throne, with their hats on; and the Commons being sent for, the Speaker and the members, with the officers of the House, are introduced by the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod.  The commission being read by one of the clerks at the table, and afterwards the titles of the bills, the royal assent is pronounced by the Clerk of the Crown, who, after bowing three times to the Lords Commissioners, if it be a money bill, says, Le Roy remercie ses loyaux sujets, accepte leur benevolence et ainsi le veut.  For a public bill of a general nature, the words are, Le Roy le veut; and if it be a private bill, Soit fait comme il est desirée.  But in case the King should refuse the bill, the answer is, Le Roy s'avisera.

When bills are brought up from the Commons, the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod announces at the bar a message from the House of Commons; upon which the Lord Chancellor puts the question whether the messengers shall be called in; which being ordered, he comes down to the bar of the House bearing the bag of state, containing the great seal, when the Commons are introduced with three bows, and the member who brings up the bill reads the title of it at the bar, and then gives it to the Lord Chancellor, who, from the woolsack, informs the House of the purport of the message.  Three Lords are considered as sufficient to constitute a House; and prayers are always read by the junior Bishop before they proceed to business, except it be on a Committee of Privileges, when prayers are read afterwards.

* Vroom had a hundred pieces of gold for his labour. The arras itself cost 1628 pounds sterling.

(pp. 484-6)

HOUSE OF COMMONS. (Page 270.)

THE House of Commons, since the reign of Edward the Sixth, has held its sittings in this room, which was formerly a chapel dedicated to St. Stephen the Protomartyr.  It was originally built by King Stephen, and rebuilt in 1347 by King Edward the Third in a very magnificent manner; some curious remains of which were discovered on the House being enlarged, occasioned by the Union with Ireland, the walls appearing to be most richly ornamented with illuminated paintings.

The Plate represents the House sitting. The Speaker's chair stands at some distance from the wall at the upper end of the room.  It is of oak, slightly ornamented with gilding, with the King's Arms at the top.  The Speaker is usually dressed in a train black silk gown, with a full-bottomed wig.  On occasions of state, he wears a robe, similar to the state robe of the Lord Chancellor.  Before him, with a small interval, is a table, at which three clerks of the House are seated, with their backs to the Speaker, whose business it is to take minutes of the proceedings of the House, read the titles of bills in their several stages, hand them to the Speaker, &c.  They are dressed in plain black silk gowns, and tie wigs.  On this table, in front, the Speaker's mace always lies when the House is sitting; except when the House is in a Committee, and then it is placed under the table, and the Speaker leaves the chair, there being a perpetual Chairman to the Committee of the Whole House.  In the centre of the room, between the table and the bar, is an extensive area.  The members' seats occupy each side, and both ends of the room, with the exception of the passages, in the form seen in the Plate.  There are five rows of seats, rising above each other, with short backs and green morocco cushions.

The seat on the floor, on the left of the Print, is that which is called the Treasury Bench, on which the chief members of the administration sit; and the opposite seat is usually occupied by the leading members of Opposition.  The Speaker sits with his hat off, except on particular occasions.  All the members must be seated, except him who is addressing the Chair; but they wear their hats or not, at pleasure, except when speaking.  A gallery, supported by very elegant pillars of iron, with gilt Corinthian capitals, runs along the two sides and the west end of the room.  That part which crosses the west end is the strangers' gallery, and will hold about one hundred and thirty persons.  The gallery on each side is reserved for members. Sometimes a member speaks from the gallery.  The walls are lined with wainscot; and the gallery and the backs of the seats are also of wainscot.  The House, when full, presents a very pleasing coup-d'œil; and it is admirably adapted to the purposes of debate, as a very moderate voice may be distinctly heard in every part.

(p. 487)

INTERIOR OF THE ROTUNDA IN THE BANK OF ENGLAND. (Page 297.)

THIS Plate is an accurate representation of one of the busiest scenes in the metropolis.  The apartment itself is a circular building of stone, the top of which is a noble dome.  The light is admitted through a cupola, supported by female figures, representing the twelve months of the year.  In the centre of the cupola is a wind dial.  The spectator is supposed, in this view, to have entered the Rotunda from the Bank gate in Bartholomew-lane, passing on his right and left the Bank Stock Office and the Three per Cent. Consols Office.

The opposite entrance, under the clock, is from a vestibule, which leads into the front court of the Bank facing Cornhill.

On one side of the Rotunda is the Transfer Office of the Three per Cent. Consols, and on the other the Office of the Four and Five per Cent. Stocks.

The body of the Rotunda is filled by brokers, jobbers, and other persons bargaining in the funds; and the artist in this drawing has very happily succeeded in sketching the character of the various groups which are to be daily seen in this place, from the hours of twelve to two.  In the centre, and round the room, are placed desks and forms for the convenience of writing; and in the recesses there are seats with fireplaces.

To a person of observation this scene will not fail to afford the highest entertainment.  The anxiety of those who are compelled perhaps to sell their stock at any price which the state of the market offers; the avidity of others who are catching at every opportunity to buy; the busy faces of the brokers, and the vacant or astonished countenances of the country stockholders, are contrasts of the human character which may be seen here in perfection.

Notwithstanding the seeming confusion of this scene, where the noise is frequently so great that persons standing close together are unable to hear each other, and where the throng is sometimes so violent that it is dangerous to stand in the crowd, yet such is the admirable regulation of the business transacted that, in the midst of this apparent mob and uproar, property to the amount of hundreds of thousands of pounds is daily transferred from one owner to another with a facility and correctness almost incredible.

(p. 488)

THE ROYAL EXCHANGE, BANK, &c. (Page 304.)

THE foreground in this Plate is Mansionhouse-street, a spacious area in front of the Mansion-house.  The coup-d'œil eastward is as rich and various as any in London.  The extensive building with the lofty tower is the Royal Exchange; whose principal front is in Cornhill, on the right of the Plate, and the other in Treadneedle-street, the extremity of the Plate on the left.  The range of houses in the centre is Bank-buildings, with Richardson and Goodluck's Lottery-office immediately in front.  The Bank is the noble building, with colonnades, on the left.  The front is a sort of vestibule; the base rustic; the ornamental columns above Ionic.  It was built in 1733 upon the site of the house of Sir John Houblon, who was at the same time Lord Mayor of London, a Lord of the Admiralty, and the First Governor of the Bank of England.

The church of St. Bartholomew is beyond; and in the background is seen the dome of the church of St. Peter le Poor, Broad-street, rising above the north end of the Royal Exchange.  On the right of the Plate is seen part of the beautiful Gothic tower of St. Michael's, and beyond the spire of St. Peter's, both in Cornhill.  At the bottom of Cornhill, and in the corner house, which divides the former from Lombard Stand (now occupied by a glover), stands the house and shop in which the celebrated Thomas Guy, by the exercise of the pious trade of selling Bibles and Prayer-books, made the greatest fortune ever accumulated by the industry of one individual.  Besides building and endowing three wards of St. Thomas's Hospital, he was the sole founder of another which bears his name.  The expense of the erection amounted to 18,793l. 16s. and he left the enormous sum of 219,499l. to endow it.  Besides his public expenses, he allowed small annuities, during his life, to many of his poor relations and others; and to his aged relations he left by his will 870l. in annuities; and to his younger relations and executors 75,589l.!  This incredible fortune was amassed from a very small beginning, chiefly by purchasing seamens' tickets in the reign of Queen Anne, by his great success in buying and selling South Sea Stock, and by the sale of Bibles: thus profiting both of God and Mammon.

The active part of this scene is uncommonly curious.  A prodigious crowd is seen passing in Cornhill; and another in front of the Bank.  Beyond the carriage from which a lady is stepping, and over its roof, is seen a stage-coach, with passengers on its top.  In the foreground, on the left, is a brewer's dray, with porter-butts; and under the north-west corner of the Royal Exchange is one of the Islington stages.

(p. 489)

THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. (Page 306.)

THE Plate represents the inside of the Royal Exchange.  The piazza on the left is the south, in which is the principal entrance leading from Cornhill.  The piazzas are divided into walks for the various trades in the following manner: The South Piazza contains the Virginia, Jamaica, Spanish, and Jews walks; and the south front in the area the French, Oporto, and Barbadoes walks.  The West contains the Norway and East India walks; and in the area the Silkmen, Clothiers, and Turkey walks.  The North contains the East Country, the Irish, Scotch, and Jewellers walks; and in front of the area the Clothiers, Silkthrowers, Skinners, Salters, and Dutch walks.  The East contains the Armenian and Portuguese walks; and in the area the Italian walk. In the Centre of the area, toward the south, is the Canary walk; to the west the Grocers and Druggists; to the north the Hamburgh; and the east the Stockbrokers.  Merchants, however, by no means confine themselves exclusively to their respective walks, but mix together without any regularity.  The name of each walk is painted on tablets over the pillars, as represented in the Plate.  A seat extends along the four walls of the piazzas.  The two figures in the left corner of the Plate represent two persons seated, and in conversation.  The piazzas are very broad and extensive, an entire regiment of the City Volunteers having sometimes gone through their usual exercise under their cover.  The open area in the centre is a spacious commodious place for transacting business in fine weather.

The whole building stands upon a plot of ground two hundred and three feet in length, and a hundred and seventy-one in breadth, containing an area in the middle of sixty-one square perches.  The building is fifty-six feet high, and from the centre in the south front rises a lantern and turret a hundred and seventy-eight feet high, on the top of which is a fane of gilt brass, made in the shape of a grasshopper, the crest of Sir Thomas Gresham's arms.  The statue in the area is that of Charles the Second, which was undertaken by Gibbons, but executed by Quillin, of Antwerp.  The statues seen in niches of the wall of the quadrangle, in the upper story, are those of kings and queens of England, beginning with Edward the First, on the south side, and ending with his present Majesty on the east.  As far as Charles the First they were executed by Gabriel Cibber.  The figure in the Plate, under the dial, is the statue of James the First, and the next, on his right, that of Queen Elizabeth.  There are twenty-eight niches in the four walls under the piazzas for statues; but two only are occupied: these are on the west side.  In one is the statue of Sir Thomas Gresham (by Gabriel Cibber), the original founder of the old Exchange, which was burnt down in 1666, the present one being soon after built, at an expense of 65,9791. 11s.  In the other niche is that of Sir John Barnard, which was placed there in his life-time by his fellow-citizens, to express their sense of his great merit; upon which he made a resolution, to which he strictly adhered, never to enter the Exchange more.

The walls within the piazzas, and the pillars, are almost covered with boards, neatly framed and painted, announcing the residence and trades of various dealers, who have obtained permission thus to call the attention of the merchants on 'Change to their shops or warehouses.  This, no doubt, is of mutual advantage to them and the merchant.

The rooms in the upper story of the Royal Exchange are applied to various purposes. Lloyd's Coffee-house and Subscription-rooms, so celebrated for the immense business transacted in them in insuring ships, and so endeared to every Englishman by the noble subscriptions made for humane or patriotic purposes, by the merchants who assemble there, are in this part of the Royal Exchange; and also the Merchant Seaman, Russia, and other public offices.

Here are also apartments in which the Gresham lecturers read their lectures, pursuant to the will of Sir Thomas Gresham, who bequeathed to the city and the mercers' company all the profits arising from the Royal Exchange, and other premises in Cornhill, in trust, to pay salaries to four lecturers in divinity, astronomy, music, and geometry, and three readers in civil law, physic, and rhetoric, who were to read lectures daily.  The trustees were however prevailed upon to regulate the readings according to the practice of the universities (where they only read in Term-time), although in direct opposition to Sir Thomas Gresham's will.  By this management, the professors' places are almost made mere sinecures; for instead of each reading fifty-two lectures annually, they seldom exceed sixteen.

(pp. 490-1)

ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, WITH THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW ON THE WATER. (Page 308.)

ON the 9th of November, annually, the Chief Magistrate of the City, being newly elected, proceeds by water to Westminster-hall, where he is sworn into his office before the Barons of the Exchequer.  He embarks on board his own barge, at Three Cranes Stairs, accompanied by the aldermen, sheriffs, and the liverymen of the company of which he is a member, and is followed by the various free companies of the city in their respective barges.  The barges are all built on the same plan; the Lord Mayor's being more profusely decorated with flags.  Each has a large and handsome state room; on the roof of which is placed a numerous band of music, who play during the procession.  Flags decorate the bow, stern, and deck of the barge. A prodigious number of boats and wherries, with private companies, attend his Lordship on this occasion. The whole forms a very lively and pleasing scene if the weather be fine, which at that season of the year is seldom the case.

In the background of the Plate is a grand view of the south side of St. Paul's cathedral.

(p. 492)

ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. (Page 363.)

THIS Plate presents to our view a prospect of the grand entrance to this magnificent structure, taken from the north-west corner of St. Paul's church-yard.  The great fire of London, by which the old cathedral was destroyed, made way for the restoration of this magnificent pile by Sir Christopher Wren, surveyor-general of his Majesty's works, and an architect worthy of so grand a design.

It was certainly the intention and desire of Sir Christopher Wren to have taken the church of St. Peter at Rome for his model, and to have adopted one single order instead of two, with an attic story, as in that structure.  This appears by his two first designs, which were however objected to; and the third produced the present noble pile, which has in some respects been preferred by a judicious writer to even the Roman Basilica.  The magnificent portico of the church of St. Peter is certainly not to be equalled; but the whole front of that structure is terminated in a straight line at the top, which has neither so good an effect, nor that agreeable variety, which are given by the elevation of the pediment in the middle, and the beautiful campanile towers at each end of the front of St. Paul's, which are represented in the Plate.

It is much to be lamented that all Sir Christopher Wren's exertions could not obtain a greater open space, which might enable the spectator to view his noble structure to full advantage.  Unfortunately, the commissioners for rebuilding the city had marked out the streets before his designs were decided upon, and great progress had been made in rebuilding houses before he could even begin to remove the ruins of the old church.

The two turrets on the right and left of the front are each two hundred and eight feet in height.  In the one on the southern side is the great clock, the bell of which may be heard in the most distant part of London when the wind is in that quarter.  In the construction of the dome, which is one hundred and twelve feet in diameter, St. Paul's differs both from the Pantheon at Rome and St. Peter's.  The Pantheon is no higher than its diameter, which is too low; and St. Peter's is twice its diameter in height, being an excess the other way.  Sir Christopher has taken a mean proportion, which shews its concave every way.  Thus the windows of the upper order strike down the light through the great colonnade that encircles the dome without, and serves for its abutment.

The inside of the dome is painted by Sir James Thornhill, and contains, in eight compartments, the histories of St. Paul.  It was Sir Christopher's intention to have beautified the inside with the more durable ornament of Mosaic work, similar to Su Peter's, which has a most magnificent and splendid appearance, and is as durable as marble, without the least decay of colour.  The art was not however understood in England, and although Sir Christopher had engaged four eminent artists from Italy, apprehensions of the expense, and the length of time it would take to finish, occasioned the design to be dropped.

The conversion of St. Paul, on the triangular elevation of the pediment, seen in the Plate, the bas-reliefs under the portico, and the statue of Queen Anne, with the figures of Britain, France, Ireland, and America, at the base, were all executed by Francis Bird

(pp. 492-3)

INSIDE OF ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, WITH THE ANNUAL ASSEMBLAGE OF THE CHARITY CHILDREN OF THE METROPOLIS. (Page 365.)

ONCE in every year, usually in the last week in May, or the first in June, a charity sermon is preached at St. Paul's, by one of the bishops or some other dignitary of the church, in aid of the charity-schools of the several parishes in London.

The Plate represents this interesting scene.  Against the pillars of the great circle beneath the dome are erected temporary galleries on all the eight sides, except that next the western aisle, which is left open for spectators.  In these the children are seated; the boys in the upper rows, and the girls below: they usually amount to six thousand!

On the north and south sides are temporary staircases, leading into the galleries, the entrance of which will be seen on the right and left of the Plate.  The galleries are partitioned into divisions, equal to the number of the several schools; each school being distinguished by its flag, with the name of the parish, raised on a pole above the back of the scaffolding, in the manner represented in the Plate.

A seat runs round the foot of the galleries, on which are placed the masters and mistresses of the several schools.  The eastern half of the circle is divided into pews for the lord mayor, aldermen, and their friends, the dean and residentiaries, and other persons of distinction.

Across the circle, from north to south, is left a broad path, for the stewards and others who regulate the ceremony.  The remainder of the circle, and the whole of the west aisle, are occupied with rows of benches for the other parts of the congregation.  A temporary pulpit is erected on the eastern side of the circle.

Against the organ-loft is a temporary gallery for the choristers of the cathedral, who assist in the service: the children also join in the chanting, following their singing-master, who is elevated on a seat above the galleries to the left of the organ.  Persons are admitted to this service only by tickets; and a collection is made, which usually produces from three to four hundred pounds.

The Plate represents part of the inside of the dome of St. Paul's. The whispering gallery is within the iron-railing which runs round the dome immediately above the arches.  The view of the choir, as it is seen behind the organ-gallery, gives an accurate idea of the aisles of this church.  Above the windows are the paintings of Sir James Thornhill.

The following are the flags seen in the Plate:—That to the left was taken from the French at Fort Bourbon, in the island of Martinique; the two next were taken in Lord Howe's victory, on the 1st of June 1794; the two most to the right of the other three were taken by Lord Duncan from the Dutch fleet, at Camperdown; and the left of the three was taken by Lord Elphinstone from the Dutch Admiral, Lucas, at the Cape of Good Hope.

(pp. 494-5)

WESTMINSTER ABBEY. (Page 376.)

THE Plate contains a view of the north side of this noble specimen of Gothic, or rather Saracenic, architecture; for, as Sir Christopher Wren justly observes*, 'The Goths were rather destroyers than builders, whereas the Saracens wanted neither arts nor learning: and after we, in the west, had lost both, we borrowed again from them, out of their Arabic books, what they, with great diligence, had translated from the Greeks.'

The present structure was begun by King Henry the Third, who pulled down the old Saxon pile.  It was however far from finished in his life-time; the great tower and two western towers remaining incomplete at the Reformation; after which the two present towers arose; but they were left extremely imperfect, one being much higher than the other, until Sir Christopher Wren perfected them in their present elegant form.

It is much to be lamented that the Norman architects, who were originally employed in building this beautiful structure, chose a species of Caen stone, which is more beautiful than durable, and so extremely tender that the finer ornaments are speedily destroyed by the weather.  When Sir Christopher Wren made his survey, in order to complete the whole structure upon a regular plan, he found the stone decayed four inches deep; and his first care therefore was to cut away all the ragged stone, and supply it with better.  The great north window, commonly called the Rose Window, seen in the Plate, he entirely rebuilt of Portland stone, to answer to the south Rose Window, and restored it to its proper shape: but his design of building a tower over the centre of the cross, which would have finally completed the whole structure according to the plan of the original architect, has never been executed.

This magnificent pile was formerly adorned on the outside with the statues or figures of those Princes who had contributed to the building; they were placed in niches cut in the buttresses, but few of them now remain.  The windows were also formerly all of painted glass, but some only remain at the east and west ends.  In the south-west window is the portrait of Edward the Confessor, with his arms.  The paintings with which the walls were formerly adorned are now defaced, or obscured by the numerous monuments which, as Mr. Pennant observes, 'furnish materials for an excellent lecture upon the progress of these efforts of human skill, from the simple altar tomb to the most ostentatious proofs of human vanity.'

On the left of the Plate is seen the tower of St. Margaret's church.  It was built in the time of Edward the Fourth; and in 1735 the tower was cased, and the whole almost rebuilt, at the expense of 3, 5001. granted by Parliament, it being the church in which the House of Commons attend divine worship.  In this church are deposited the remains of the ill-fated Sir Walter Raleigh, who was interred here the day on which he was beheaded in Old Palace-yard.  It was left to a sensible churchwarden to record the fact, who inscribed it on a board about fifty years ago.  The east window, of fine painted glass, is particularly worthy of notice, being a beautiful composition of figures.  The principal subject is the Crucifixion.  In a compartment on one side is Henry the Sixth kneeling, and above him his patron St. George; on the other is his queen, and above her St. Catherine.

The Dean and Chapter of Westminster, with the most laudable spirit, have very recently given directions to pull down a number of old ruinous houses which totally obscured the north side of Henry the Seventh's chapel, and part of the east end of the Abbey.  These disgraceful incumbrances were loudly complained of by Sir Christopher Wren, but their total demolition was reserved for the present day.

The total length of the Abbey within the walls is 489 feet, and the height of the middle roof is 92 feet.

* Parentalia, p. 297.

(pp. 495-6)

THE SOCIETY OF ARTS. (Page 406.)

THE public spirit of this age is perhaps in no instance more evident than in the rapid progress and present flourishing condition of this valuable Society.  It was set on foot by Lord Folkestone, Lord Romney, Dr. Hales, and seven or eight private gentlemen, who were brought together by the unwearied pains of Mr. William Shipley, a person little known, who had long laboured to reduce into practice a scheme he had projected for this purpose.  Their first meeting was at Rathmill's coffee-house, March 22, 1754, when those noble Lords not only approved and patronised the undertaking, but offered to make good any deficiencies of subscription which should be found at the end of the year.  Premiums were accordingly offered for the discovery of cobalt, for designs in drawing, and for the planting of madder.  From this beginning the Society has increased to the present extent, and is annually adding to the list of its subscribers and the number of premiums.

The Plate represents this fine Institution in the interesting moment of distributing its annual prizes for the encouragement of arts, manufactures, and commerce.  The room is an oblong square, elegantly proportioned: the seats are ranged round the table in an oval form.  Many of the figures in this Plate are portraits.  The President, his Grace the Duke of Norfolk, is presenting a medal to a successful candidate.  On his right is the Secretary, Mr. Charles Taylor; on his left Mr. Thomas Taylor, the Assistant Secretary.  The seat immediately round the table is occupied by the Vice-Presidents and Chairmen of Committees.  The second seat on the right of the President is reserved for ladies of rank.  Among those represented in the Plate are the Duchess of Northumberland and her daughters.  The second seat on the left of the President is allotted to foreign ministers, and other foreigners of distinction.  The person immediately below the bar, with a white wand in his left hand, is Mr. Pearsal, one of the Managers for the day; the other, with a white wand, is Mr. Tooke, another Manager; and the gentleman handing a lady to her seat is Mr. Gold, a third Manager.

The figure entering the room, with his right hand extended, represents a Candidate. I n the area which is seen below the bar are seated ladies, Candidates.  The other seats all round are occupied indiscriminately by members and visitors; but, as the Plate represents, the number of ladies who honour the Society with their presence on solemn occasions nearly fill the seats.  The gentlemen, members and visitors, are standing in the area round the extreme seat.

The walls are decorated with a series of six paintings by Barry, representing the progress of man in civilization: they are among the finest productions of the age.  For any adequate feeling of their merit we refer the reader to a view of them.  Two of these pictures, and part of a third, are seen in the Plate. That over the President is part of the Olympic Games, a composition unrivalled in modern times.  The group seen in the Plate is remarkable for the refinement of its taste and the sweetness of its effect.  An old man is represented as borne on the shoulders of his two sons, severally victors in the games.—The next picture is the Triumph of Navigation.  Father Thames is seated in his car, drawn by river nymphs.  The pillar seen to the right is a naval pillar of a very novel kind, lately added by the painter: it is designed with exquisite fancy, and painted in a bold and finished style.  A gallery winds on the outside of the pillar to the top, to enable the spectator to ascend and examine the bas relief on the shaft.  The pillar is supported by Tritons, on sea-horses.  The steeds and riders are executed with uncommon spirit.

The picture on the right of the Plate represents the distribution of the rewards of the Society.  All the figures in it are portraits.  That with his hat on is the late Lord Romney, the then President of the Institution.  The figure in robes, nearer the foreground, represents his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales.  The person sitting in the left corner of the picture is Mr. William Shipley, the founder of the Society.  The female figure near the centre, with two girls near her, represents the late Mrs. Montague, who was an active member of the Society for fifteen years.—The portrait seen between the two last pictures represents the late Lord Romney; and below is a bust of the Prince of Wales.  The small pictures behind the President are paintings and drawings of Candidates.  The statues seen at the upper end and at the bottom of the room are casts of Venus and Narcissus, by the late Mr. John Bacon.  This room, especially when the Society is in one of those sittings represented in the Plate, affords one of the finest spectacles in Europe.

(pp. 497-8)

INSIDE OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE, As seen from the Stage during the Performance. (Page 451.)

THIS is one of the most elegant and beautiful Theatres in Europe.  It has four ranges of boxes, besides the private boxes, which are a row, on a level with the most elevated part of the pit.  The boxes are painted a light green, relieved with red, and ornamented with bas-reliefs of composition, designed and executed in a very fine taste.  They are supported by slender pillars of iron, washed with silver: they terminate at top with a pointed Gothic arch; and the whole form of the interior is a mixture of Grecian and Gothic architecture.  This is the principal fault of the building; which, however, produces a grand effect to an eye not too nice and critical.  The boxes are perhaps too lofty.  The stage is of prodigious dimensions.  It requires an uncommonly strong and articulate voice to fill the house.  The third row in the front is the two-shilling gallery; and the highest row the one-shilling gallery.  The whole range of boxes on the level of the pit are private boxes.  That on the stage, seen to the right of the Plate, is the Prince of Wales's box; the box immediately above is a public box, distinguished by the name of the stage-box; the one next above that is the Duke of Bedford's box; and the highest on that side is the Duchess of Devonshire's.

The Plate gives a very accurate idea of the coup-d'œil of the Theatre when filled.  The dimensions of this Theatre between the walls are, 192 feet long, and 87 wide.

The receipts of this Theatre, when crowded, amount to between 700 and 800l.

(p. 499)

INSIDE OF COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE, Viewed from the front Boxes, during the Attendance of the Royal Family and the Performance of Pizarro. (Page 452.)

THE Plate represents the Royal Family attending the play at this Theatre.  His Majesty's box is in the second row, as seen on the left of the Plate: eight of the ordinary boxes are thrown into one for his accommodation.  Over the centre is a canopy of crimson velvet, embroidered with gold, and surmounted with a crown.  The pannels in front are of crimson velvet, decorated with a crown, and with the initials of their Majesties, embroidered with gold.  The box is lined with blue satin: curtains festooned run round the top.  The back of the box is taken away on these occasions, and a crimson curtain is drawn across, which opens into an ante-room lined with white satin.  Three of the boxes over their Majesties are occupied by the officers of the horse and foot-guards, and the King's pages.  The Lord Chamberlain, the Lord in Waiting, and other officers, stand behind the King during the representation; and the Ladies in Waiting, and other Ladies, behind the Queen.  The Princesses sit on each side of their Majesties.  The King is dressed either in regimentals, or a plain suit: her Majesty and the Princesses are usually much dressed, the queen generally wearing a great quantity of valuable diamonds.  When the King enters, the band plays God save the King: and, of late years, it has been the custom for the vocal performers to sing that song; the whole audience standing, and the men being uncovered.  The same is done at the conclusion of the night's amusement.

The Stage, in this Plate, represents a scene in Pizarro.  Mr. Kemble is playing Rolla, and is in the act of carrying off Alonzo's child from Pizarro. The dimensions of this Theatre are at present, from wall to wall, 158 feet long, and 60 feet wide, the room allowed for the stage being nearly equal to that set apart for the audience.  It has been much enlarged within these few years.  It will hold between five and six hundred pounds.

(p. 500)

VAUXHALL GARDENS. (Page 456.)

THE Plate represents the orchestra at the time when the performers are singing, and the company are gathered round in front.  The orchestra is very elegant in its form, is painted white, ornamented with gilding, and almost covered with small variegated lamps.  A beautiful grove of large trees surrounds the orchestra.  On the trunks and branches of the trees small lamps of various colours are disposed in great profusion, and with peculiar taste; the light of the lamps giving the leaves an almost transparent appearance, and producing a brilliant effect.  Piazzas run in various directions in the garden, illuminated with thousands of various coloured lamps, and decorated with arches with transparent paintings.  Specimens of these elegant arcades are seen in the Plate, on the right and left of the orchestra, among the trees.  To the left of the orchestra is a very spacious room, ornamented in a most fanciful manner.  The amusements are singing, music, fireworks, and a sham cascade.  The company in the latter part of the evening (or rather early in the morning) amuse themselves beside with dancing to bands of Italian or German musicians.  When the evening is fine, and the gardens full, the whole presents a scene that is something like the realizing of fairy dreams.

The refreshments here are cold collations, served in a very elegant style.  The boxes are numerous and very handsome; each being ornamented with painted pannels.

Three nights in the week are gala nights; Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  The price of admittance is then three shillings; on other nights it is only two shillings.

(p. 501)

BAKING OR BOILING APPLES.

BAKING and Boiling Apples are cried in the streets of the metropolis from their earliest appearance in summer throughout the whole winter.  Prodigious quantities of apples are brought to the London markets, where they are sold by the hundred to the criers, who retail them about the streets in pennyworths, or at so much per dozen, according to their quality.  In winter the barrow-woman usually stations herself at the corner of a street, and is supplied with a pan of lighted charcoal, over which, on a plate of tin, she roasts a part of her stock, and disposes of her hot apples to the labouring men and shivering boys who pass her barrow.

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Stratford Place, the scene in the Plate, is on the north side and near the west end of Oxford-street.  It has no thoroughfare; the lower stories of the houses, which are lofty and handsome, are built on a regular design, and faced with rustic stone-work.  The house at the north end, facing towards Oxford-street, was lately the property and residence of the Earl of Aldborough, whose family name is Stratford, but is now occupied by the Duke of St. Albans.  The late Lord Aldborough erected a pillar, in the form of a candlestick, surmounted with a most disproportioned statue of his Majesty, at the upper end of this place.  This triumphal monument, if it deserved that name, was erected in honour of several memorable victories, and built of a composition resembling stone; but it is already nearly destroyed, two sides of the railing being pulled down, and the inscription, which recorded the cause of its erection and the titles of his Lordship, almost defaced.  Barren as London is of the classic decorations of statues and public monuments, we cannot wish to sec the pillar of Stratford-place repaired upon the same inelegant and puerile design in which it was originally executed.  The object was however good.

BAND-BOXES,

GENERALLY made of pasteboard, and neatly covered with coloured papers, are of all shapes and sizes, and sold at every intermediate price between sixpence and three shillings.  Some made of slight deal, covered like the others, but in addition to their greater strength having a lock and key, sell according to their size, from three shillings and sixpence to six shillings each.  The crier of Band-boxes or his family manufacture them; and these cheap articles of convenience are only to be bought of the persons who cry them through the streets.

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The Bibliotheque d'Education, or Tabart's Juvenile Library, seen to the left of the Plate, is in New Bond-street, at the corner of Grafton-street.  It is a very admirable and unique Institution, where all elementary books of science and education are to be found, in addition to every moral and amusing publication that can

— 'teach the young idea how to shoot,
Or pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind.'

BASKETS.

MARKET, fruit, bread, bird, work, and many other kinds of Baskets, the inferior of rush, the better sort made of osier, and some of them neatly coloured and adorned, are to be bought cheaply of the criers of Baskets.

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Whitfield's Tabernacle, in Tabernacle-street, north of Finsbury-square, is the place of worship belonging to the Calvinistical Methodists.  It is a large octagon building, with galleries.  The body is divided into pews, to which every member subscribes a small sum quarterly, and have equal access to all.  The Tabernacle is numerously attended on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

BELLOWS TO MEND.

THE Bellows-mender carries his tools and apparatus buckled in a leathern bag to his back, and, like the Chair-mender, exercises his occupation in any convenient corner of the street.  The Bellows-mender also sometimes professes the trade of a Tinker.

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A part of Smithfield is seen in the Plate on one of the days of the market for hay.  Those days are Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Mondays and Fridays the great cattle market of London is held in Smithfield; on which days it is disagreeable, if not dangerous, to pass the avenues of Smithfield in the early part of the day, on account of the droves of oxen passing from the market, on whom the drovers sometimes exercise great cruelty.  The barbarous practices of these men have been, however, greatly checked by a law, which compels them to wear a badge with a number on one arm; and it is a duty which every person owes to the public to order into immediate custody a drover who shall be seen to maltreat, the animals under his guidance.  There is likewise a horse-fair in Smithfield once a week.

Smithfield has been alternately the field for gallant tilts and tournaments in the age of chivalry; the scene of trials by duel in the infancy of legislation; and, in the age of bigotry, of our autos da fè.  Here is now held the popular show of Bartholomew-fair, which was granted, by charter of Henry the Second, to the neighbouring priory of St. Bartholomew, for three days in the month of September; where fire-eaters, jugglers, and mountebanks of every description exhibit their dexterity.  Formerly, however, the best actors exhibited here, and it was the resort of much good company.  Bartholomew fair is the favourite holiday of the lower classes, and its crowded scene usually affords a plentiful harvest to pickpockets and petty sharpers.  Its humours, however, will never be totally lost so long as Hogarth's inimitable plate exists.

The principal entrance to St. Bartholomew's hospital is in Smithfield.

BRICK-DUST

IS carried about the metropolis in small sacks on the backs of asses, and is sold at one penny per quart.  As Brick-dust is scarcely used in London for any other purpose than that of knife-cleaning, the criers are not numerous; but they are remarkable for their fondness and their training of bull-dogs.  This predilection they have in common with the lamp-lighters of the metropolis.

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Portman Square, which forms the other subject of the Plate, is large and handsome.  It stands in Marybone, to the north of Oxford-street.  In the middle of the square is an oval enclosure, which is ornamented with clumps of trees, flowering shrubs, and ever greens.  In the background of the Plate, the large centre house is the town residence of the Duke of Athol: it was formerly occupied by the French ambassadors.  The ceilings and compartments of the wainscot are decorated, with great taste, with paintings by Cipriani and Angelica Kauffman.  In the salle a manger, and the breakfast-room, the subjects are taken from Virgil's Georgics, and those in the drawing-room from the Æneid.  The staircases are also ornamented with some fine designs by the former artist.  On the left of the Plate, in the north-west corner, standing obliquely to the square, and surrounded by an extensive garden, stands Montague House, the residence of the late celebrated Mrs. Montague, the foundress of the well-known meeting of literary ladies, distinguished by the name of the Blue Stocking Club; an appellation which it received from the singular dress of a gentleman (in always wearing blue stockings), who was the only male person permitted to intrude into this female coterie, and who acted as moderator upon any question which occasioned difference of opinion.  The corner house, seen in the Plate, adjoining to the Duke of Athol's, is the residence of Mr. Hamilton Nesbitt, where are deposited the curious antiquities sent by his brother-in-law, Lord Elgin, from Egypt; and in the stables are several very fine Arabian horses, sent over by the same nobleman.

BUY A BILL OF THE PLAY.

THE doors of the London Theatres are surrounded each night, as soon as they open, with the criers of Play-bills.  These are mostly women, who also carry baskets of fruit.  The titles of the Play and Entertainment, and the name and character of every performer for the night, are found in the bills, which are printed at the expense of the Theatre, and sold by the hundred to the criers, who retail them at one penny the bill, unless fruit is bought, when, with the sale of half a dozen oranges, they will present their customer a bill of the play gratis.

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Drury-lane Theatre.  Part of the colonnade fronting to Russel-street, Covent-garden, with the door leading to the galleries of this superb Theatre, are seen in the Plate.  There are also separate entrances to the pit and boxes under the same colonnade.  On the west front of the Theatre is a very handsome entrance, through a vestibule with pillars, to the boxes only.  In Russel-court is another hall, leading to the pit, boxes, and orchestra boxes: the stage-door is in Drury-lane.  The paling seen on the right hand of the Plate is a temporary enclosure of some ground on the west front, where a large and elegant tavern is intended to be erected.

CATS AND DOGS' MEAT,

CONSISTING of horse-flesh, bullocks' livers, and tripe cuttings, is carried to every part of the town.  The two former are sold by weight at twopence per pound, and the latter tied up in bunches of one penny each.  Although this is the most disagreeable and offensive commodity cried for sale in London, the occupation seems to be engrossed by women.  It frequently happens in the streets little frequented by carriages that, as soon as one of these purveyors for cats and dogs arrives, she is surrounded by a crowd of animals, and were she not as severe as vigilant, could scarcely avoid the depredations of her hungry followers.

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Bethlem Hospital stands on the south side of the quarters of Moorfields, and has the following inscription in gold letters on the front, immediately over the grand entrance: Bethlem Hospital, founded by Henry VIII. for the cure of lunatics, was rebuilt by voluntary contribution in 1675, and the wings added, by subsequent benefactions, in 1733, for the reception of incurable and dangerous lunatics.  It was built on the plan of the Tuilleries at Paris.  Louis the Fourteenth was so enraged that the design of his palace should be adopted for a lunatic hospital, that he ordered a plan of St. James's to be taken, resolving it should be a model for offices of the vilest nature.  The Hospital is five hundred and forty feet in length.  A high wall in front of each wing encloses a garden, where the patients are allowed to walk.  The centre of the building is seen through iron gates, which open to a paved court leading to the steps of the grand entrance.  On each side the iron gate is a figure, one of melancholy and the other of raging madness.  These figures are in recumbent postures on the pillars of the gate, and are finely executed.  The artist was Caius Gabriel Cibber, father of the poet.  Part of the gate, the east wing, and the wall enclosing the garden of that wing, are seen in the Plate.

CHAIRS TO MEND.

THE business of mending Chairs is generally conducted by a family or a partnership; one carries the bundle of rush, and collects old Chairs, while the workman, seating himself in some convenient corner on the pavement, exercises his trade.  For small repairs they charge from fourpence to one shilling; and for new covering a chair from eighteen pence to half a crown, according to the fineness of the rush required, and the neatness of the workmanship.  It is necessary to bargain for price previous to the delivery of the Chairs, or the Chair-mender, like other itinerant artists, will not fail to demand an exorbitant compensation for his time and labour.

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Soho Square stands on the south side and near the eastern extremity of Oxford-street.  It has a square enclosure, with a shrubbery in the centre.  This square was begun in the time of Charles the Second.  The Duke of Monmouth lived in the centre house facing the statue, from which circumstance it was originally called Monmouth Square; and, after the execution of that unfortunate nobleman, received the name of King's Square.  The admirers of the Duke however had the art to get it changed to Soho, which was the word of the day at the fatal field of Sedgemoore.  In this square is the residence of Sir Joseph Banks, the President of the Royal Society, whose library and collection of natural curiosities are well known.  On the south side of the Square, in the right-hand corner leading from Greek-street, stands a house in which Fashion once revelled in all its splendour and dissipation.  It was the residence of the once celebrated Mrs. Cornelys, who for taste, wit, vivacity, and elegance of manners, was unrivalled in her day.  In this house she established her coteries, which were supported by the subscriptions of all the first persons in the country.  The entertainments consisted of concerts, dancing, cards, &c. which were followed by Pic Nic suppers.  Mrs. Cornelys' taste for magnificence and variety of decoration was unbounded; and the magistrates discovered that her entertainments required a license.  Her expenses exceeded her subscriptions, and Fashion led to some more novel scene of amusement.  Hence this unfortunate lady was doomed to a prison, where, after a confinement of several years, she, who had been the life of the fashionable world, and 'the soul of pleasure,' ended her days in poverty and distress.  This house was also the residence of Field Marshal Conway, but is now divided into two dwellings.  A Roman catholic chapel, much frequented, stands in Sutton-street, on the east side of the Square.

CHERRIES

APPEAR in the London markets early in June, and shortly afterward become sufficiently abundant to be cried by the barrow-women in the streets at sixpence, fourpence, and sometimes as low as threepence per pound.  The May Duke, and the White and Black Heart, are succeeded by the Kentish Cherry, which is more plentiful and cheaper than the former kinds, and consequently most offered to sale in the streets.  Next follows the small black Cherry called the Blackaroon, which is also a profitable commodity for the barrows.  Other kinds of Cherries, bearing a higher price, are only to be bought in the markets, or at the shops of fruiterers.  These barrow-women undersell the shops by twopence or threepence per pound, but their weights are generally to be questioned; and this is so notorious an objection that they universally add full weight to the cry of Cherries.

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The entrance to St. James's Palace, which stands at the west end of Pall-mall, and fronting to St. James's street, is seen in the Plate.  The gate opens to the principal court, on one side of which a covered passage leads to the grand staircase belonging to the guard-rooms, drawing-room, and other state apartments.  This entrance and the whole palace is of brick; nor does its external appearance convey any idea of magnificence.

DOOR MATS

OF all kinds, rush and rope, from sixpence to four shillings each, with Table Mats of various sorts, are daily cried through the streets of London.

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Charing-Cross divides the Strand from Parliament-street to the south, and from Cockspur-street to the west.  It derives its name from being the site of one of the Crosses, the celebrated memorials of the affection of Edward the First for Queen Eleanor.  It was the last spot on which the body rested in its way to the Abbey.  This Cross was replaced by a most beautiful and animated equestrian statue in brass of Charles the First, cast in 1633 by Le Sœur for the Earl of Arundel.  It was erected in 1678, when it was placed on the present pedestal, the work of Grinlyn Gibbons.  The spirit and beauty of the horse have not often been surpassed.  To the left of the Plate, and distinguishable by its stone parapet and square tower, is seen part of the magnificent screen of Northumberland House.  A spacious court intervenes between this screen and the house itself.  Behind the house are extensive gardens.  The screen contains two stories of apartments occupied by domestics, and their offices.  The entrance gate is in the centre of the screen, which runs from Charing-cross to Northumberland-court, each extremity terminating with a square tower.

DUST O!

ONE of the most useful among the numberless regulations that promote the cleanliness and comfort of the inhabitants of London, is that which relieves them from the incumbrance of their dust and ashes.  Dust-carts ply the streets through the morning in every part of the metropolis; two men go with each cart, ringing a large bell and calling Dust O!  These men daily, if necessary, empty the dust-binns of all the refuse that is thrown into them.  They receive no gratuity from the inhabitants of the houses; the owner of the cart pays them, like other labourers, weekly wages; and the dust is carried to yards in the outskirts of the town, where a number of women and girls are employed in sifting it, and separating the cinders and bones from the ashes and other refuse.  The ashes, &c. are sold for manure, the cinders for fuel, and the bones to the burning-houses.  The inhabitants of a crowded city are thus relieved from an incumbrance which, in its accumulation, would prove a dangerous nuisance; employment is afforded to a number of persons; and the dust-carts and yards are a profitable concern to their proprietors.

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New Church, properly St. Mary-le-Strand, is in the Strand, contiguous to Somerset-house.  This beautiful church stands in the very centre of the street, dividing it into two branches.

GREEN HASTENS.

THE earliest pea brought to the London market is distinguished by the name of Hastens; it belongs to the dwarf genus, and is succeeded by the Hotspur.  This early pea, the real Hastens, is raised in hotbeds, and sold in the markets at the high price of a guinea per quart.  The name of Hastens is however indiscriminately given, by the venders, to all peas, and the cry of Green Hastens resounds through every street and alley of London to the very latest crop of the season.  Peas become plentiful and cheap in the latter end of June, and are retailed from carts in the streets at tenpence, eightpence, and sixpence per peck.

[Note: The print has 'hasteds', the text 'hastens'; which is correct is currently unclear.]

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Newgate, a lossy and massy structure standing at the west end of Newgate-street and at the top of the Old Bailey, on the north side of Ludgate-hill, is built entirely of stone within and without.  In the centre of the front, and distinguishable by its windows, on the right hand of the Plate, is the Keeper's house.  The range of building, continuing from the Keeper's house to the corner of Newgate-street, part of which is seen to the left of the Plate, is the Debtor's Side.  An equal portion on the other side is appropriated to Felons; and there is a hall of entrance to each, over the doors of which are stone tablets with knots of chains finely executed in stone.  In the front wall are four projections with niches: two of them have statues; in one Liberty with the Cap, and in the other a figure bearing the Fasces.

HAIR BROOMS.

HEARTH Brooms, Brushes, Sieves, Bowls, Clothes-horses, and Lines, and almost every household article of turnery, are cried in the streets.  Some of these walking turners travel with a cart, by which they can extend their trade and their profit; but the greater number carry their shop on their shoulders, and find customers sufficient to afford them a decent subsistence, the profit on turnery being considerable, and the consumption certain.

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Shoreditch Church, standing at the northern extremity of Holywell-street, commonly called Shoreditch, is a church of peculiar beauty.  It has a portico in front elevated upon a flight of steps.  The area before the church, enclosed with an iron railing, is disgraced by a plantation of poplar trees.

HOT LOAVES,

FOR the breakfast and tea-table, are cried at the hours of eight and nine in the morning, and from four to six in the afternoon, during the summer months.  These loaves are made of the whitest flour, and sold at one and two a penny.  In winter, the crier of Hot Loaves substitutes muffins and crumpets, carrying them in the same manner; and in both instances ringing a little bell as he passes through the streets.

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St. Martin's Church, called St. Martin's in the Fields, is in St. Martin's lane, near Charing-cross.  It has a lofty portico of six pillars raised on a flight of steps.  The design of this portico was taken from that of an ancient temple at Nismes, in France, and is peculiarly grand and beautiful.

HOT SPICED GINGERBREAD.

HOT Spiced Gingerbread, sold in oblong flat cakes of one halfpenny each, very well made, well baked, and kept extremely hot, is a very pleasing regale to the pedestrians of London in cold and gloomy evenings.  This cheap luxury is only to be obtained in winter; and when that dreary season is displaced by the long light days of summer, the well-known retailer of Hot Spiced Gingerbread, pourtrayed in the Plate, takes his usual stand near the portico of the Pantheon, with a basket of Banbury and other cakes.

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The Pantheon stands about the middle and on the south side of Oxford-street.  It has a fine portico, and the building is of simple and beautiful architecture, but is liable to be overlooked by strangers, as the effect is nearly destroyed by its being erected in a busy and crowded street, and not detached from the surrounding houses.  The Pantheon was originally designed for concerts.  It contains one large room, finely ornamented with pillars painted in imitation of Scagliola marble, and mirrors in the pannels, with a handsome orchestra, and several retiring rooms, where tea, coffee, jellies, &c. &c. were served.  It is at present only used for occasional masquerades in the winter season,

KNIVES TO GRIND.

THE apparatus of the Knife-grinder is accurately delineated in the annexed Plate.  The same wheel turns his grinding and his whetting stone. On a smaller wheel, projecting beyond the other, he trundles his commodious shop from street to street, and generally finds some employment in each.  He charges for grinding and setting scissars one penny or two pence per pair; for pen-knives one penny each; and table-knives one shilling and sixpence or two shillings per dozen, according to the polish that is required.

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Whitehall.  This beautiful and memorable structure stands in Parliament-street, facing the Horse-guards.  It was begun in 1619, from a design of Inigo Jones, in his purest manner, and cost 17,000l.  The present building is only a small part of a vast plan left unexecuted by reason of the troubles which succeeded.  The ceiling, which cannot be too much admired, was painted by Rubens: the subject is the Apotheosis of James the First.  The front of the Banquetting-house is seen in the Plate.  The northern end of the palace, to the left of the Plate, is that through which King Charles passed to the scaffold.  The breach in the wall made for that purpose is now covered on the outside by the adjoining building; but within the palace the same passage is the entrance into that building.  The Banquetting-house has for many years past been converted into a chapel.

In the square behind Whitehall palace is an uncommonly fine statue in brass of James the Second, executed by Gibbons the year before that monarch abdicated his throne.  At the north end of the Banquetting-house still remains a very high gilt vane, erected by order of James.  When the reports were current of the Prince of Orange's intentions to come over and claim the crown, James lodged at Whitehall, and had his bed-room in a part of the palace from which he could see this vane; and by it his hopes and his fears were daily decided.  The west wind was the popish, and the east the protestant: if the latter blew, it had a visible effect upon his spirits the whole of the day.

LAVENDER.

'SIX bunches a penny sweet Lavender' is the cry that invites in the streets the purchasers of this cheap and pleasant perfume.  The distillers of Lavender are supplied wholesale from the nursery-grounds, and a considerable quantity of the shrub is sold in the streets to the middling classses [sic] of inhabitants, who are fond of placing Lavender among their linen (the scent of which conquers that of the soap used in washing), yet are unwilling to pay for the increased pungency of distillation.

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Temple Bar.  This Gate was erected to divide the Strand from Fleet-street in 1670, after the great fire; previous to which there were only posts, with rails and chains.  On the east side, which forms the background of the Plate, in the niches, are the statues of James and Anne of Denmark; and on the opposite side are those of Charles the First and Charles the Second: all executed by Bushnell.  On the top of this Gate were exhibited the heads of the unfortunate victims to the justice of their country for the crime of high treason.  The last sad mementos of this kind were the rebels in 1746.  This Gate is the western extremity of the city of London.

On the left of the Plate is the entrance to the Middle Temple.  The old Gate was erected by Sir Amias Powlet on a singular occasion.  About the year 1501 Sir Amias had placed Cardinal Wolsey, then parson of Lymington, in the stocks.  Being sent for to London in 1515 by Wolsey, then raised to the rank of Cardinal, he was, on account of this old grudge, ordered not to quit London until further orders.  In this gateway he lodged for five or six years, and rebuilt it.  To pacify his eminence, he adorned the front with the Cardinal's cap, badges, cognizance, and other devices.  This Gate being burnt by the great fire, the present one was afterwards erected.

MACKEREL,

MORE plentiful than any other kind of fish in London, are brought from the western coast, and afford during their season (which commences in May, and lasts to the close of July,) a livelihood to numbers of men and women, who cry them through the streets every day in the week, not excepting Sunday; Mackerel boats being allowed by act of Parliament to dispose of their perishable cargo on Sunday morning, previous to the commencement of divine service.  No other fish partake that privilege.  Mackerel are at first sold at one shilling and sixpence each; but the quantity brought shortly reduces them to tenpence, eightpence, sixpence, and not unfrequently three may be bought for one shilling.  A second season for Mackerel is in autumn.  The preference is given to the spring Mackerel, and many more of them are brought to London: those of autumn are dried by the inhabitants of the coast of Mount's Bay, where they are chiefly caught for their winter stock of provision.

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Billingsgate, situated in Lower Thames-street, eastward of London-bridge, is the great fish-market whence the metropolis and its neighbourhood are wholly supplied with fish.  Billingsgate, as seen in the Plate, is built in the form of a quay, and the fishing-vessels come close to it to deliver their fish.  Each day is market-day at Billingsgate.  The market commences at three o'clock in the morning in summer, and four in winter.  Salesmen receive the cargo from the boats, and announce, by a crier, of what kinds they consist.  These salesmen have a great commission, and generally make fortunes.  The market is attended thus early by fishmongers, who keep shops in various parts of London, and, serving the richer inhabitants, buy the prime fish; and by the hawkers, who cry fish in the streets, with all their stock in baskets on their heads.  The market for wholesale buyers is over by six or seven o'clock.  Many private families send their servants to Billingsgate to purchase fish, as persons keep retail stalls in the market throughout the day, and are supposed to sell cheaper than the fishmongers or the hawkers.  Nearly opposite to Billingsgate, on the north side of Thames-street, is the Coal Exchange.

MATCHES.

THE criers of this convenient article are very numerous, and among the poorest inhabitants of the metropolis, subsisting more on the waste meats they receive from the kitchens, where they sell their Matches at six bunches per penny, than on the profits arising from their sale.  Old women, crippled men, or a mother followed by three or four ragged children, and offering their Matches to sale, excite compassion, and are often relieved, when the importunity of the mere beggar is rejected.  The elder children of a poor family, like the boy seen in the Plate, are frequent traders in Matches, and these generally sing a kind of song, and sell and beg alternately.

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The Mansion House is a stone building of considerable magnitude, standing in Mansion-house-street, at the west end of Cornhill; it is the residence of the Lord Mayor of London.  In the front is a portico of fluted pillars, with two pilasters on each side the portico, which is raised above, a lower story opening to the offices.  A flight of steps, enclosed with a stone balustrade, leads to the grand entrance under the portico.  When it was first resolved in the Common Council to build a Mansion-house for the residence of the Lord Mayor, Lord Burlington, zealous in the cause of the arts, sent down an original design of Palladio, worthy of its author, for their approbation and adoption.  The first question in Court was not whether the plan was proper, but whether this same Palladio was a freeman of the city, or no.  On this great debates ensued; and it is hard to say how it might have gone, had not a worthy Deputy risen up and observed gravely, that it was of little consequence to discuss this point, when it was notorious that Palladio was a papist, and incapable of course.  Lord Burlington's proposal was then rejected nem. con. and the plan of a freeman and protestant adopted in its room.  The man pitched upon (and who afterwards carried his plan into execution) was originally a shipwright; and, to do him justice, he appears never to have lost sight of his first impressions.  The front of his Mansion-house has all the resemblance possible to a deep-laden Indiaman, with her stern-galleries and gingerbread-work.  The stairs and passages within are all ladders and gangways, and the two bulk heads on the roof, fore and aft, not unaptly represent the binacle and windlass on the deck of a great north country catt.

MILK.

EVERY day in the year, both morning and afternoon, Milk is carried through each square, street, and alley of the metropolis, in tin pails, suspended from a yoke placed on the shoulders of the crier, as represented in the Plate.  Milk is sold at four pence per quart, or fivepence for a better sort: yet the advance of price does not ensure its purity, for it is generally mixed in a great proportion with water by the retailers before they leave the Milk-houses.  It is calculated that 8,500 cows are kept for the supply of Milk, and that 6,980,000 gallons are annually sold in London.  The adulteration of the Milk, added to the wholesale cost, leaves an average profit of cent. per cent. to the venders of this useful article.  Few retail trades are exercised with equal gain.  A retailer of Milk, in opulent parts of the town, employs two or three carriers: these are, almost universally, Welsh girls, whose uncommon strength and hardiness of constitution peculiarly fit them for an employment of such great labour and constant exposure to the inclemencies of the weather.  Milk Walks, that is, a certain proportion of neighbouring streets served by a particular person, are sometimes disposed of by advertisement, and often for a considerable premium.  Cream is sold by the Milk-carriers at one shilling and fourpence per pint.

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Cavendish Square is in Marybone, on the north side of Oxford-road.  In the centre of an enclosure, erected on a lofty pedestal, and standing on a round platform, is a bronze statue, in the exact uniform of the guards (probably for the assistance of the regimental taylors), mounted on an antique horse, all very richly gilt and burnished.  The singular inscription, which takes care to inform us, to prevent mistakes, that it is an equestrian statue, is as follows: — 'William Duke of Cumberland, born April 15, 1721 — died October 31, 1765.  This equestrian statue was erected by Lieutenant-general William Strode, in gratitude for his private friendship; in honour to his public virtue; —Nov. 4, Anno Domini 1770.'

The possessive pronoun his is very happily introduced here, because it may be applied to either of the antecedent persons, and will no doubt create subject of learned dispute some ages hence.  This statue is seen peeping, like a piece of gilt gingerbread in a green grocer's stall, through a plantation of trees, shrubs, and flowers.  In the background of the Plate are two very elegant houses, striking for their unity of design, built by the late Mr. Tuffnell.  It was intended to have built the whole square on the same plan, but the expense occasioned the project to be dropped.  The house at the corner of Harley-street was occupied by the late Princess Amelia, and now by the Dutch Banker, Mr. Hope.

NEW POTATOES

ABOUT the latter end of June and in July become sufficiently plentiful to be cried at a tolerably cheap rate in the streets.  They are sold wholesale in the markets by the bushel, and retail by the pound.  Three halfpence or a penny per pound is the average price from the barrows.

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Middlesex Hospital is situated at the northern end of Berners-street, Oxford-street, and is the county hospital for diseased persons.  The building consists of a centre and wings, and stands in a large court with trees, covered by a wall in front with two gates, one of which is represented in the Plate opening to the west wing.  In the front of the centre of the building is placed a stone tablet, with the following inscription: — 'Middlesex Hospital, erected in MDCCLV. supported by voluntary Contribution.'

OLD CLOTHES.

OLD Clothes are the traffic of the early hours of morning between the Jews, who engross this trade, and servants that are allowed the perquisites of their masters cast-off Clothes.  At twelve o'clock the dealers in Old Clothes carry their mornings purchases to a fair held daily in Rosemary-lane, commonly called Rag-fair, adjoining Tower hill, where they barter or sell to other dealers who keep shops, and with alterations and repairs sell again to the public.  A busier scene cannot be imagined than Rosemary-lane presents in the fair hours.  The broad street and the avenues to it are crowded with buyers and sellers of both sexes, so as to be nearly impassable.  A commodious Exchange is built adjoining Rosemary-lane, for the dealers in Old Clothes; and many attempts have been made by the civil power to compel them to take possession of it; but nothing less than military force constantly exercised would prevail over the obstinacy of habit: they constantly abandon the Exchange, and return to their ancient privilege of holding their busy market in the street, to the great annoyance of those whom business compels to pass that way between the hours of twelve and three.

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Fitzroy Square.  This elegant and beautiful square, situated west of Tottenham-court road, has only the south and east sides completed; the ground intended for the remaining part lies waste.  The houses have stone fronts, and are built as a centre and wings, each side of the square representing an uniform building.  The enclosure of Fitzroy-square is circular; a dwarf hedge lines the railing, and is succeeded by a broad gravel walk and circular shrubbery, intersected by gravel walks, and sloping downwards to another broad circular gravel walk surrounding a grass plat, which forms the centre.

POOR SWEEP.

IN all the public streets and thoroughfares of the metropolis boys and women employ themselves in dirty weather in sweeping crossings, from one side to the other, at convenient distances.  The foot passenger is constantly importuned, and frequently rewards the Poor Sweep with a halfpenny, which indeed he sometimes well deserves; for in the winter after a heavy fall of snow, if a thaw should come before the scavengers have had time to remove it, many of the streets cannot be crossed without being up to the middle of the leg in dirt.  Many of these Sweepers who choose their station with judgment, reap a plentiful harvest from their labours.

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Blackfriars Bridge crosses the river from Bridge-street to Surry-street.  From the latter end the annexed view is taken.  The width and loftiness of the arches, and the whole light construction of this bridge, is uncommonly pleasing to the eye. St. Paul's cathedral, never distinctly seen as a whole, displays much of the grandeur of its extensive outline when viewed from Blackfriars-bridge.  The Temple gardens, the terrace of Somerset-house, and Westminster-bridge, give beauty to the prospect on the other side.  At each end of the bridge watermen ply with their boats.  A broad flight of steps with an iron balustrade conducts to the boats, which are neatly painted, and kept perfectly clean.  The number of the boat and the waterman's name are always painted in some conspicuous part, in default of which the waterman is liable to a heavy penalty.  This regulation prevents, or is intended to prevent, impositions and misbehaviour.

RABBITS.

THE crier of Rabbits in the Plate is a portrait well known by persons who frequent the streets at the west end of the town.  Wild and tame rabbits are sold from nine pence to eighteen pence each, which is cheaper than they can be bought in the poulterers' shops.

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Portland Place is a spacious and elegant street to the north of Marybone.  At the south end is Foley-house, the property of Lord Foley, but now let to Mr. Thellusson, a city merchant.  From the opening at the upper end of Portland-place is a fine view of Harrow and the Hampstead and Highgate hills; and this opening makes Portland-place one of the most airy situations in town, at the same time that it is one of the finest streets in London, the houses being of perfect uniformity both in height and ornament, and no shops or meaner buildings interrupting the regularity of the design.

RHUBARB.

THE Turk, whose portrait is accurately given in the Plate, has sold Rhubarb in the streets of the metropolis during many years.  He constantly appears in his turban, trowsers, and mustachios, and deals in no other article.  As his drug has been found to be of the most genuine quality, the sale affords him a comfortable livelihood.

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Russel Square, on the north side of Bloomsbury, is built on the site where Bedford house and its gardens lately stood.  This new square is one of the largest in London.  Broad streets intersect it at the corners, and in the middle, which add to its beauty, and remove the general objection to squares by ventilating the air.  The square is uniform in its outline, with the exception of Baltimore-house, on the east side, at the corner of Guilford-street, whence the annexed view of the square is taken.  The centre houses on the north side are ornamented with pilasters of stone, and the ground floors of both south and west sides are stuccoed, having balconies all round.  The extensive enclosure is a square with rounded corners.  Next the railing is a dwarf hedge.  A grass border and broad gravel walk succeed, which surround a square lawn patched with oval shrubberies, and intersected with gravel walks.  In the centre is a large circular plantation bordered by a gravel walk.  Adjoining Russel-square to the north, and now building, is Tavistock-square, the east side of which is finished.  The houses are of brick with stuccoed ground floors, the wings pilastered, and the whole of uniform design, having balconies and a neat stuccoed cornice.  The enclosure, an oblong square with the corners rounded off, is agreeably laid out.  In Tavistock-place, on the east side of the square, is a new Gothic chapel.  This beautiful specimen of Gothic architecture deserves particular notice from the curious stranger.  An elegant building also in Great Coram-street, west of the square, is worthy attention: the centre, having a handsome portico with four pillars, is an assembly room; one wing is appropriated to billiard rooms, and the other contains hot and cold baths.  These baths are fitted up in a very neat and commodious manner.

SAND O!

SAND is an article of general use in London, principally for cleaning kitchen Utensils.  Its greatest consumption is in the outskirts and suburbs of the metropolis, where the cleanly housewife strews sand plentifully over her floor, to guard her newly scoured boards from dirty footsteps, a carpet of small expense and easy to be renewed.  Sand is sold by measure; red sand twopence halfpenny, and the white five farthings per peck.

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St. Giles's Church, called St. Giles's in the Fields, stands at the west end of Broad St. Giles's.  It is a very handsome structure.  Over the gate, entering the church-yard, is fixed a curious basso-relievo in brass, representing the Last Judgment, and containing a very great number of figures.  It was set up about the year 1686.

A SHOWMAN.

THIS amusing personage generally draws a crowd around him in whatever street he fixes his moveable pantomime, as the unemployed persons or children who cannot afford the penny or halfpenny insight into the show-box are yet greatly entertained with his descriptive harangues, and the perpetual climbing of the squirrels in the round wire cage above the box, by whose incessant motion the row of bells on the top are constantly rung.  The show consists of a series of coloured pictures, which the spectator views through a magnifying glass, while the exhibitor rehearses the story, and shifts the scenes by the aid of strings.  These Showmen carry their box on their backs, and frequently travel into the country.

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Hyde-park Corner.  Two very handsome houses that stand at Hyde-park Corner form the other subject of this Plate.  This entrance to London is worthy of the grandeur and extent of the metropolis.  On one side of the spacious street of Piccadilly arc lofty and elegant houses; and on the other, through an open railing, is a fine view of the Green-park, St. James's park, and Westminster-abbey.

SLIPPERS.

THE Turk in the annexed Plate is a portrait.  Habited in the costume of his nation, he has sold Morocco Slippers in the Strand, Cheapside, and Cornhill (during the hours of Exchange), a great number of years.  To these principal streets he generally confines his walks.  There are other sellers of Slippers, particularly about the Royal Exchange, who are Jews, and are very importunate for custom, while the venerable Turk uses no solicitation beyond showing his Slippers.  They are sold at one shilling and sixpence and two shillings per pair, and are of all colours and all sizes.

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Somerset House, on the south side of the Strand, is an extensive and noble structure, built by Government principally for the concentration of the offices of public business.  The Plate shews the west side of the entrance, which contains a centre gate for carriages, and two foot ways, through an arched portico.  The window on the right hand of the Plate is one of that suite of apartments which belongs to the Royal Academy.  A visit to the various departments of Somerset-house will amply repay the trouble of the stranger.

SOOT O!

THE occupation of sweeping Chimneys begins with the break of day.  A master Chimney-sweeper patroles the street for custom, attended by two or three boys, the taller ones carrying the bag of soot, and directing the little diminutive creature who, stript perfectly naked, ascends and sweeps the Chimney.  The common price is six pence per Chimney; but for those of large kitchens, where much scraping is required, they usually demand a shilling.  The greatest profit arises from the sale of the soot, which is used for manure.

Formerly it was the custom to cry 'Sweep for the Soot O!' the sale of the soot then being the only compensation of the sweeper.  The hard condition of Chimney sweeping devolves upon the smallest and feeblest of the children apprenticed from parish workhouses.  The employment in itself stints their growth, and it is unhappily too much the interest of the master so to feed his apprentices as they shall not be liable to outgrow their occupation.  It is very common to see Chimney-sweepers of twelve and fourteen years of age who do not exceed the ordinary stature of boys of seven and eight.  Many hardships to which these defenceless beings were subjected, have been alleviated by the exertions of the celebrated and benevolent Mr. Jonas Hanway, who obtained an act of parliament, enacting that every Chimney-sweeper's apprentice shall wear a brass plate in front of his cap, with the name and abode of his master engraved on it, thus enabling any humane person to take immediate cognizance of their treatment.  Happily, however, for the cause of humanity, a society has been lately established to alleviate the misery of these unfortunate beings, by the adoption of a mode of sweeping Chimnies by a machine, which, upon the examination of several intelligent persons, has been highly approved.

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Foundling Hospital, a handsome, plain, and commodious building in Guilford-street, to the north of Holborn, has a centre and wings, and stands at the upper end of a large piece of ground, in which the children of the foundation are allowed to play in fine weather.  The whole is enclosed by a wall with gates.  At the western gate is a neat porter's lodge.  Divine service is performed in the chapel of the Foundling-hospital twice every Sunday, at eleven in the morning and seven in the evening, and is constantly attended by a crowded and elegant audience.  Several of Hogarth's pictures, presented by himself, are in the Foundling-hospital, and claim the attention of strangers, particularly his celebrated March of the Guards to Finchley.  The apartments of the Hospital may be seen Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays.  For particulars of this admirable institution see page 204.

STRAWBERRIES,

BROUGHT fresh gathered to the markets in the height of their season, both morning and afternoon, are sold in pottles, containing something less than a quart each.  The crier adds one penny to the price of the Strawberries for the pottle, which, if returned by her customer, she abates, or will take it again at the same price on another occasion.  Great numbers both of men and women are employed in crying Strawberries during their season, which is June, through the streets in suburbs of London.  Their profit is from threepence to fourpence in the shilling.  Strawberries are frequently to be bought in London at sixpence per pottle.

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Covent-garden Market occupies a large square on the estate of the Duke of Bedford, lying between the Strand and Long-acre.  This market is entirely appropriated to fruit and vegetables.  On the south side is a range of shops, which contain the choicest fruit and vegetables.  The most expensive productions of the hot-house are also to be purchased in these shops.  An alley is left for foot passengers between the fruiterers' shops and a row of stands, on which are displayed greenhouse plants, and all kinds of flowering shrubs.  The effect is very beautiful.  The centre of the market, as shewn in the Plate, although less pleasing to the eye, is more inviting to the general class of buyers.  It is crowded with stands, where excellent fruit and vegetables are sold at moderate prices.  The wholesale buyers attend early in the morning, and purchase of the gardeners, who supply this market with fresh vegetables Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.  On the west of the square which surrounds the market, stands the church of St. Paul's Covent- garden.  It was built by Inigo Jones, who, being unfortunately cramped in his design by a limitation of expense, contrived only to make it the finest barn in England.  By the happy manner of placing it, however, some effect is produced, in spite of the injudicious simplicity of the fabric.  It was nearly destroyed by fire some years ago, but has been since repaired upon the same plan.  The piazza extends along the north and part of the east sides of the square.  The Theatre, and the Bedford Arms tavern, with several others, are under the piazza.  The Hummums, justly celebrated for their convenient and elegant lodgings for gentlemen, are on the east side of the square.

WATER CRESSES.

WATER Cresses are sold in small bunches, one penny each, or three bunches for twopence.  The crier of Water Cresses frequently travels seven or eight miles before the hour of breakfast to gather them fresh; but there is generally a pretty good supply of them in Covent-garden market, brought, along with other vegetables, from the gardens adjacent to the metropolis, where they are planted and cultivated like other garden-stuff.  They are, however, from this circumstance, very inferior from those that grow in the natural state in a running brook, wanting that pungency of taste which makes them very wholesome; and a weed very dissimilar in quality is often imposed upon an unsuspecting purchaser.

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Hanover Square, also represented in this Plate, is on the south side of Oxford-street.  Here is a circular enclosure in the middle, with a plain grass-plat.  The noble house seen in the Plate is the residence of Lord Harewood.  In George-street, which leads into this square, is the curious and extensive anatomical museum of Mr. Heaviside the surgeon; to the inspection of which respectable persons are admitted, on application to Mr. Heaviside, once a week, from the first Friday in January to the second in May.  In this square is a very extensive building, containing an elegant suite of apartments, appropriated principally for Subscription Concerts.  In these the King's Concert of Ancient Music is now held; previous to which, Miss Linwood's matchless performances in needle work were exhibited there.  These rooms were built by Sir John Gallini, formerly one of the managers of the Opera, to whom they now belong.

Drawing from Life at the Royal Academy, Somerset House

Exhibition Room, Somerset House

Board Room of the Admiralty

Astley's Amphitheatre

Dining Hall, Asylum

Christie's Auction Room

The Great Hall, Bank of England

Bartholomew Fair

Billingsgate Market

The Hall, Blue Coat School (Christ's Hospital)

Bow Street Office

Pass-Room, Bridewell

British Institution, [52] Pall Mall

The Hall and Stair Case, British Museum

The Hall, Carlton House

The Roman Catholic Chapel, [54] Lincoln's Inn Fields

The Coal Exchange

Royal Cock Pit

Water Engine, Cold-Bath-Fields Prison

The College of Physicians

House of Commons

Court of Chancery, Lincoln's Inn Hall

Court of Common Pleas, Westminster Hall

Court of King's Bench, Westminster Hall

Court of Exchequer, Westminster Hall

Covent Garden Market, Westminster Election

Covent Garden Theatre

The Long Room, Custom House

Custom House, from the River Thames

Debating Society, [22] Piccadilly

Doctors' Commons

Drury Lane Theatre

Corn Exchange

Exhibition of Water Colour Drawings, Old Bond Street

Fire in London

Fleet Prison

Foundling Hospital, The Chapel

Freemasons' Hall, Great Queen Street

Great Subscription Room at Brooks's, St James's Street

Guildhall

Guildhall, Examination of a Bankrupt before his Creditors

Common Council Chamber, Guildhall

Herald's College, The Hall

Hospital, Middlesex

India House, The Sale Room

King's Bench Prison

King's Mews, Charing Cross

Lambeth Palace

Lloyd's Subscription Rooms

Leaden Hall Market

Egyptian Hall, Mansion House

House of Lords

Lottery Drawing, Coopers' Hall

Magdalen Chapel [part of the Magdalen Hospital]

The Mint

Mounting Guard, St James's Park

Newgate Chapel [at Newgate Prison]

Old Bailey

Opera House

Pantheon Masquerade

Philanthropic Society, The Chapel

Pillory, Charing Cross

The Post Office

Quakers Meeting

[Note: The precise location depicted is not given in the Microcosm, which details meeting houses 'in Bishopsgate-street, Gracechurch-street, St. Martin's-lane, St. John-street, Southwark, and Ratcliffe'.  The marker here is placed in White Hart Court, off Gracechurch Street, the site of the oldest meeting house in London.]

Queen's Palace, St James's Park

Royal Circus

Royal Exchange

Royal Institution, Albermarle Street

Sadler's Wells Theatre

Session House, Clerkenwell

Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, Adelphi

Society of Agriculture, [32 Sackville Street]

Somerset House, Strand

Stamp Office, Somerset House

New Stock Exchange

Drawing Room, St James's

St Luke's Hospital

St Margaret's, Westminster

St Martin-in-the-Fields

St Paul's Cathedral

Surrey Institution

Synagogue, Duke's Place, Houndsditch

Tattersall's Horse Repository

Temple Church

View of the Tower

Horse Armoury, Tower

Board of Trade

Trinity House

Vauxhall Gardens

St Stephen's, Walbrook

Watch House, St Mary Le Bone

West India Docks

[Note: Built after the completion of Horwood's Plan.]

Westminster Abbey

 Westminster Hall

Whitehall

Workhouse, St James's Parish [Poland Street]

Greenwich Hospital, The Painted Hall

Chelsea Hospital

Military College, Chelsea

[Note: Built after the completion of Horwood's Plan.]

New Covent Garden Theatre

[Note: Built after a fire in September 1808 destroyed the old building.]

South Sea House, Dividend Hall

Excise Office, Broad Street

View of Westminster Hall and Bridge

A View of London from the Thames, taken opposite the Adelphi

Jerry in training for a 'Swell'.  (This scene takes place at Corinthian House, which is not explicitly located by Egan in the text.  For convenience, I've placed the relevant markers in Berkeley Square, a location indicative of the relatively high status of Corinthian Tom's family.)

Tom & Jerry, Sporting their 'bits of blood' among the Pinks in Rotten Row.

Tom & Jerry in the Saloon at Covent Garden.

Tom & Jerry taking Blue Ruin after the Spell is broke up.  (The location here is a conjecture based on the characters' next destination ('near the Olympic [Pavilion]') and the general low reputation of the streets between Covent Garden and Lincoln's Inn Fields).

MIDNIGHT. Tom & Jerry at a Coffee Shop near the Olympic.  (The Olympic Pavilion, which opened in 1806, was located at the junction of Drury Lane, Wych Street and Newcastle Street.)

Tom & Jerry in Trouble after a Spree.  (In placing this marker, I have assumed that the characters would have been taken to the Covent Garden Watch House, located next to St Paul's Church).

BOW STREET.  Tom & Jerry's sensibility awakened at the pathetic tale of the elegant Cyprian,_the feeling Coachman,_and the generous Magistrate.

Tom & Jerry larking at a Masquerade Supper, at the Opera House.

ART OF SELF DEFENCE. Tom and Jerry receiving Instructions from Mr. Jackson at his Rooms in Bond Street.  (References in Pierce Egan's Boxiana locate 'Gentleman' John Jackson's rooms at 13 Bond Street).

CRIBB'S PARLOUR. Tom introducing Jerry and Logic to the Champion of England.  (Tom Cribb became a publican after retiring.  The Oxford Dictionary of National Biography gives the location of his pub, the Union Arms, as 36 Panton Street, while other sources give number 26.  Horwood's Plan reveals that the current number 36 (the location of a modern pub, the Tom Cribb) was number 26 in the early nineteenth century, resolving this seeming contradiction).

Tom & Jerry sporting their blunt on the phenomenon Monkey, Jacco Macacco, at the Westminster Pit.  (The Westminster Pit was located on Duck Lane, Orchard Street.  Horwood's not having gathered the street numbers here makes placing the marker on a precise building a difficult proposition).

Tom Getting the best of a Charley.  (The text of Life in London and the view of St Clement Danes in the plate both locate this incident as taking place just inside the Temple Bar Gate.)

A 'LOOK IN' at TATTERSAL'S. Tom taking Jerry's judgment in purchasing a 'Prad'.

AN INTRODUCTION. Gay moments of Logic, Jerry, Tom and Corinthian Kate.  (This scene takes place at Corinthian House; I've used Berkeley Square as an indicative location.)

FENCING. Jerry's admiration of Tom in an 'Assault' with Mr O'SHAUNESSY, at the Rooms in St James's St[ree]t. (Exact address not yet located.)

Tom & Jerry, catching Kate & Sue on the Sly having their Fortunes told.  (Likely location, inferred from description in the main text: 'On quitting the Fencing-Rooms, TOM and JERRY accompanied LOGIC to the Albany, where they bid good-bye to the Oxonian: and, in their way towards Bedford-Square, having an appointment at that place, HAWTHORN espied, at a short distance before him, in Russell-Street, KATE and SUE tripping it along, as if in great haste. JERRY instantly mentioned the circumstance to TOM, but the CORINTHIAN had scarcely caught a glimpse of their persons, when they quickly turned down an obscure narrow street; and if the curiosity of our heroes had not been strongly excited, so as to give them a run for it, they must have lost sight of the ladies altogether, having only turned the corner of the street time enough to witness their entrance into a very shabby dirty-looking house.')

The 'NE PLUS ULTRA' of 'Life in London.' _ Kate, Sue, Tim, Jerry and Logic, viewing the Throne Room at Carlton Palace.

LIFE IN LONDON._Peep o' day Boys. A street Row. The Author losing his 'reader'. Tom & Jerry 'showing fight'. & Logic floored.  (Exactly located in the text: 'Upon turning the corner of Sydney's Alley, into Leicester-Fields, we were assailed by some troublesome customers...')

Symptoms of the finish of 'Some Sorts of Life' in London._ Tom, Jerry and Logic in the Press Yard at Newgate.

The ROYAL EXCHANGE._ Tom pointing out to Jerry a few of the primest features of Life in London.

LOWEST 'LIFE in LONDON'_ Tom, Jerry and Logic among the unsophisticated Sons and Daughters of Nature at 'All Max' in the East.  (Location only indicative - the only real indications we're given of the location of All-Max are that it's east of the Tower and near the river.)

HIGHEST LIFE IN LONDON. Tom & Jerry 'Sporting a Toe' among the Corinthians, at Almacks in the West.

Tom, Jerry and Logic backing Tommy the 'Sweep at the Royal Cockpit.

A GAME OF WHIST. Tom and Jerry among the Swell 'Broad Coves.'  (The only information given about the house where this scene takes place is that it is 'near St. James's Park'.)

Tom, Jerry and Logic in characters at the GRAND CARNIVAL.

THE GREEN ROOM AT DRURY LANE THEATRE. Tom & Jerry introduced to the Characters in Don Giovanni.

Tom, Jerry and Logic. 'tasting' Wine in the Wood. at the London Docks.  (Note: the London Docks were constructed between 1799 and 1815, after the completion of the first version of Horwood's Plan).

OUTSIDE OF THE OPERA HOUSE AT NIGHT. Gallantry of Tom and Jerry.

Tom, Jerry and Logic, making the most of an Evening at Vauxhall.

A SHILLING WELL LAID OUT. Tom and Jerry at the Exhibition of Pictures at the Royal Academy.

Tom and Jerry 'Masquerading it' among the Cadgers in the 'Back Slums' in the Holy Land.  (The Holy Land was a name for the poor rookeries of St Giles.)

Tom and Jerry taking the hint at Logic's being being blown up at 'Point Nonplus'; or, long 'wanted' by John Doe and Richard Roe and must 'come'.  (Bob Logic's address is given as No. 9 Albany on his card (printed on p. 87 of Life in London).  (The) Albany (formerly Melbourne House and York House) was (and remains) an exclusive apartment complex.)

A WHISTLING SHOP. Tom & Jerry visiting Logic 'on board the Fleet.'  (The Fleet was a debtor's prison.)

Jerry 'beat to a stand still'! Dr Please'em's Prescription, Tom and Logic's condolence;_ and the 'Slaveys' on the alert.  (This scene takes place at Corinthian House; I've used Berkeley Square as an indicative location.)

WHITE HORSE CELLAR, PICCADILLY._ Tom and Logic bidding Jerry 'good bye,' upon his going into training, & his return to Hawthorn Hall.  (John Lockie's Topography of London (1810) locates the new White Horse Cellar at number 66 and the old one 'op. 76, two doors W. of Arlington-st'.  The plate here depicts the new cellar (see top right).)

Westminster Bridge

View on Westminster Bridge

New Palace Yard

View in Margaret Street

Old Palace Yard

Deans Yard

North West View of Westminster Abbey

Westminster Abbey from the West Entrance

Transept of Westminster Abbey

Part of the Sachristary leading to the Chapel of Henry VII

Henry VII Chapel

North Front of Westminster Abbey

Melbourne House, White-Hall

Privy Gardens

White Hall

The Horse Guards

The Parade

The Admiralty

Charing Cross

Cockspur Street

The Mews

Inside of the Mews

St. Martins in the Fields

North Front of St. Martin’s Church

South West View of St. Martin’s Church

Northumberland House

View from Scotland Yard

Watergate, York Buildings

The Adelphi

John Street, Adelphi

The Adelphi Terrace

Adam Street, Adelphi

St. Pauls, Covent Garden

Covent Garden

Piazza, Covent Garden

St. Mary’s Church and Somerset House in the Strand

Vestibule, Somerset Place

Great Court, Somerset Place

North Side of the Great Court, Somerset Place

Part of Somerset Place

Somerset Terrace

Somerset Place

South Front of St. Mary’s Church, Strand

Temple Bar

Inner Temple Court

Ancient Church of the Knights Templar

St. Dunstans Fleet Street