"and the Sex, monsieur!"—and we have found by experience he was correct. If it were not for the great cathedral, the theatre and the sex, suicide would be a relief: I shall ever be extremely obliged to a little French dealer in perfumery, who has allowed me to knock up a most interesting amour with her. At the table d'hote at the hotel I daily meet with one of Napoleon's old generals, whom I cannot persuade that Louis Philippe is not "Prefect d'Angleterre." H. nearly sent the old gentleman the other day into fits, by telling him in the midst of a dish of frogs, that the most approved mode of eating those animals was allowing them to jump down the throat alive. In the Protestant church of St Thomas here, a plain and simple monument is erected to the memory of the classical scholar Schweighæuser, who was a native of this city, and Greek and Oriental professor "de l'academie de Strasbourg." It was erected by his colleagues, and describes him as

"Au citoyen courageux, pur et loyal, au savant illustre, à l'editeur d' Appien, de Polybe, d'Athénée, d' Arrien, d' Herodote, Seneque.

He was born 26 June 1742, and died 19 Jan. 1830.

et de

Yesterday, (for I am concluding this letter on the 3rd), H. left Strasbourg for Bale in Switzerland, and from thence, after visiting some celebrated sulphur baths in the neighbourhood, to Geneva. I remain here until tomorrow or next day awaiting a letter from Paris, and then, either proceed thither, or follow and overtake him. If I adopt the latter alternative, it will be ten days at least before I am in Paris; if the former, only three or four. I know not how other men travel on the Continent, but to us it has been a most cheap excursion. In three weeks I have not spent above £13, every thing included; and yet I have not omitted seeing any thing. H., so far as cheapness goes, is an excellent travelling companion: he will not be cheated of a single sous, and bargains with all the dexterity of a Frenchman. Whenever I arrive in Paris, my stay there will be very short, most probably not ten days. I

did not receive any reply to my letter to you, before I left, and have had no communication with my hotel there since. Whatever you have written will be attended to, immediately that I get back.......

I have not seen an English newspaper for nearly a month, and do not know any thing of English politics or news, except that the Lord Mayor can't speak French, and the Maire of Boulogne can speak English. By the bye I everywhere found in Germany that the English language was much preferred to French, and generally as well known, amongst the rising generation certainly better. The desire to visit England is very strong throughout Germany and pervades all classes: scarcely a waiter at any of the hotels we stayed at, but proposed to honour our country with a visit. However low the influence of the British Government may be with the Continental Governments, the estimation of the British people is sufficiently high in those places we have passed through.

Tell B..... the railway mania is equally strong on the Continent, as in England; only it is directed more rationally. The Governments have almost every-where taken the subject into their own hands, and lay the plans down upon a universal system. In five years' time there will be a railway direct from London to Vienna, via Calais, Brussels, Liege, Aix-la-chapelle, Cologne, Mannheim, Carlsruhe &c. &c. and from Vienna to Milan one is now in progress. In Prussia the estimated cost is £1200 per mile. The foreign railways, that I have travelled on, are not equal to those of England. I do not mean that the levels, which are for the most part natural, are not as good, but that the motion is not so pleasant. I suspect the fault is either in the laying down of the rails or in the carriages. The crowds that go by them are immense: the low prices allow workmen to be conveyed to and from their places of labour by them.

Have you and H. renounced the Devil and all his works, or do you still cleave to the pomps and vanities of this wicked world? I was told a pleasant story at Mannheim of the Dow

ager Grand Duchess of Baden (a niece of Napoleon) who resides a great deal there, and is very fond of the English. The ancient lady, who piques herself on the excellence of her English, having been informed that the modest appellation for breeches in our language was inexpressible, by way of shewing her intimate acquaintance with our nomenclature, the following evening told an English gentleman, at one of her Balls, that she did not much admire his irresistibles!

At Cologne Captain W. and myself went to the theatre to hear the Vienna prima donna Madame Heinefetter who was playing there for a few nights. The opera was Romeo and Juliet the lady took the part of Romeo. In one of the most touching of the love-scenes between Romeo and Juliet, Madame had the misfortune to rupture her irresistibles, when to the astonishment and amusement of her audience down came the tail of her chemise. Every exertion of her voice, every time she rapturously clasped Juliet to her breast, brought it further down, until it reached, between her legs, her ancles. The House was convulsed with laughter, but Madame sung on, and did not curtail a single note. At last the curtain fell; At last the curtain fell; but a few wags in the pit called for the unfortunate prima donna, to receive their applause; and forth she was obliged to come, tail and all...... I am &c. W. H. C.

CCLXXXVIII. Green and Tallents.

May 7, 1838. MR GREEN, an Attorney formerly in good practice at Newark, who had retired from professional pursuits with a handsome fortune, has been a prisoner for 5 years. The late EDWARD TALLENTS ESQ. Attorney of Newark, did not hear of his imprisonment till long after his first capture; the moment he heard of it, he purposely came up to Town, flew to the Fleet, enquired for Mr Green, and when Mr G. appeared, he hardly recognised Mr T. who said, "What, dont you know

me, Green?" G. then recognised him, and burst into tears, and so did T. who asked what was the amount charged against him at the gate? G. said £86. T. said, "Do you wish me to pay it?" G. could not stomach the word pay, but would have accepted the offer, if it had been that of a loan; he replied, "No, he had funds of his own, which he wished to recover and apply to this purpose." T. did not press the matter, but after a little talk, shook hands with him amidst a flood of tears and withdrew. G. was also overpowered and till after T. was gone did not observe a £10 Note sticking to his hand! He told the story to me this day.

CCLXXXIX. TIGHT SKIN.

Jnue 4, 1838. B..... told a story of a man who was troubled with frequent crepitation at night. His wife asked him the reason of this; to which he replied that he had a tight skin, and when he closed his eyes to sleep, a vent was sure to break out in some other quarter.

CCXC. On Hadrian's address to his soul.

"In your Letter of the 28th ult. you state many translations of what is called the Address of Hadrian to his soul, with the better version of it (in part), viz. rigida et jocos, being commuted for frigida et joca. It is clear that joca is intended to rhyme with loca. But this circumstance of rhyme suggested to me many years ago, when I first read these lines, that there must be some great mistake in making Hadrian the Emperor the author of these lines, because he lived long before rhyme became an ornament, as well as a great addition to the strength and emphasis of poetic composition. We owe rhyme to monastic chaunting, and to the itinerant songsters of legendary

ballads, and as some monk or idle minister of rustic music might have rejoiced in the name of Hadrian, I should think it very probable that to some such obscure and long-since unknown individual, this harmonious invention might be imputed. When Classic prosody ceased to be applicable to the irregularities of modern languages, rhyming became a substitute for it, but we have no instance of it in the ancient Greek and Latin writers. Of the translations you send, that by Casaubon in Greek, composed in the same number of lines, is the best. Fontenelle's is very poor, prolix, and does not observe the due measure of feet. You state Prior's very justly as an improvement on the original, but it is anything but a correct translation, filled with extraneous circumstances, and in short a little English poem on the same subject. I view the speaker, or rather his sentiments here expressed by some other for him, as standing on the brink of the grave, when truth generally comes forth. He describes the character of a worldly person, about to put off this body, without any certain prospect of that unknown country, into which he goes. Insignificance, (animula,) levity, inconstancy, (vagula,) self-love and self-applause, (blandula,) are the features of past life. It is no longer the companion of the body, of which nothing more remains than inanimate matter, well-described by its external properties, (pallidula, frigida, nudula,) nor is any longer capable of becoming an instrument, through which the soul can indulge its jests and follies, (here represented by joca.) It puts me in mind of an epitaph, I forget by whom, which, as well as I remember, runs thus,

Life is a jest, and all things shew it;

I thought so once, but now I know it.

Under the above impressions, I have attempted a translation, which I think less liable to the above objections, though not as close in version as I could wish. Gustavus brought me a version by Lord Byron, which is utterly devoid of harmony, and takes a liberty with our language, which it does not admit.