We are distrustful of our powers of description, and will therefore endeavour to illustrate our meaning by examples. We are provided with plenty, for we have still in our recollection Lady Mordaunt’s last “At Home.” All the world was there. Whist, music, dancing, and last, not least, eating, were all going on in the usual style at the same time; the squeeze in the rooms was beyond parallel in the annals of _ton_; and of course we found more solitude in that evening than we had done throughout the whole season. We made our _entrée_ when her ladyship was in her highest glory: she was bowing to one, smiling to another, and curtseying to a third, and straining every nerve and feature to _do the proper_ to all her guests: this, however, was as impossible as the number of her satellites was innumerable; the tumult was tremendous; and there was so much bowing, and begging pardon, and getting out of the way, that it was quite impracticable to advance or recede a step. Good breeding and bare elbows were thrust in our faces alternately; we with difficulty preserved our toes from the frequent attacks made on them by kid slippers, and with still greater difficulty preserved our hearts from the sweet smiles that said “I beg ten thousand pardons.” It was a vortex of delight, and we were hurried so rapidly in its eddies, that much time elapsed ere we were able to collect our editorial serenity, in order to make a few observations on the scene before us. The multitude at length began very slowly to diminish; and, having lodged ourselves in an unperceived corner of the music-room, we proceeded, according to our ancient custom, to speculate upon character. Our attention was first attracted by a tall gentleman of a very noble appearance, who was leaning against a pillar, in an attitude of profound meditation. His dress was after the English fashion, but the cast of his features, and his short curling hair, sufficiently denoted him to be a foreigner. His eyes were fixed directly upon us, but we satisfied our curiosity by an attentive survey, without fear of detection, as his mind was evidently some furlongs distant. Upon inquiry we heard that he was an Indian chieftain, by name Teioninhokarawn (we have doubts as to the correctness of our orthography). He had done considerable services to the British arms in the American war, and had now been invited by her ladyship as the lion of the evening. He had been surrounded without intermission by a tribe of quizzers, loungers, and laughers, but one glance was sufficient to convince us that Teioninhokarawn was--alone.