Dinner soon after making its appearance, introduces the praises of Brighton foals and turbots, mixed with severe censures against the Brighton fishmongers, who though not an hundred yards from the landing-place, where they purchase their wares from the fishermen, exact a profit of _cent. per cent._ from the consumer. We now project schemes for repressing extortion by combination; but as the execution of such projects would require activity, and activity is no part of a Brighton visitor’s purpose, we talk against extortioners, but suffer them to go on in the old way. Our eulogiums on the Down mutton are chequered by reproaches of the porter and ale, and followed by severe invectives against the Brighton wine; invectives very unpatriotic, because a native of our own country. Owing partly to the quality of that beverage, and partly to a restless disposition, often arising from idleness, we are very moderate as to quantity, and sit a very short time at table. While our ladies repair to their toilets to make dispositions for the evening campaign, we stroll towards the chalybeate wells, or, taking the opposite direction, proceed to the race-ground and signal post. Returning, we find our fair friends arrayed to their minds. After tea, we accompany them to the place of destined resort for finishing the amusements of the day; perhaps to the theatre, where resorting for amusement, and not for criticism, we have a very good chance of being pleased. Contemplating the company, we find dress no more intended to cover than undress. We see the boxes quite a miniature of London, containing a number of people, the greater part of whom have met to converse, to look at one another and themselves, attending as little to the stage almost as if it were a pulpit, from which the preacher was inculcating moral virtue; unless there be a song, or a Harlequin, when the spectators are as attentive as if they had been listening to a methodistical hymn, or a methodistical preacher, fervently inculcating the pleasures of spiritual love. Perhaps the grove has been our choice, wherein the scenery of Vauxhall is happily imitated, and also some of the amusements. Here, too, for those who prefer retirement to company, there are _dark walks_. On chosen evenings of supreme felicity, there are balls; which, presenting beaux and belles dressed at each other, dancing at each other, talking and simpering at each other, ogling at each other, squeezing at each other, and making assignations with each other, we shall pass over, as neither in the present operation, or future effects, containing any thing peculiar to Brighton, or which does not happen when ever beaux and belles join in so exhilarating a pastime. Perhaps, indeed, the bracing air may increase their spirits and animation, and give more elasticity to their movements.