proof of wisdom or goodness as is generally supposed. Turn to the houses, and compare their gay ornate appearance with the dismal monotonous streets of London. Every one has its separate character. The portal is of sculptured stone, always decent and often of beautiful design. A little bit of carved cornice, a simple moulding round the windows gives individuality and interest to the upper part without any of the astounding architectural eccentricities of Regent Street. Enter, and you will find the furniture of even the humbler occupants varied, characteristic, and pretty. Where ornament is attempted, it is well chosen and sparingly introduced. A beautiful cabinet, a few small pictures, a group or two in bronze, some exquisite china--quite a contrast to the overwhelming magnificence of English upholstery. I know, DOWLAS, you gave a _carte blanche_ to JOBKINS and SON for your house in Mecklenburgh Square. Well, well--if the subject is a painful one we will not pursue it; though I must say that I think six copies of the peacocky young woman in fetters, called for some inscrutable reason the Greek Slave, rather too much for two drawing-rooms (couldn't you send up a pair to the best bed-room, and one to the butler's pantry?) and I may also take this opportunity of informing JOBKINS, JUNIOR, who does the "tasty" business of his firm, that merely multiplying expensive tables and chairs, and daubing everything over with gold, though it may satisfactorily swell the bill, shows a miserable want of fancy and cleverness in a decorator. I quite admit the solidity and conscientiousness of English workmanship. We buy a frightful table in Bond Street, and, behold, it will last for ever. The drawers in DOWLAS'S house are as delightful to open and shut as they are horrible to look at. English boots will outlast French boots, and English gloves French gloves. Whatever may have been the case years ago, it is a great mistake to suppose that these articles are better now in Paris than in London. The great difference is shortly this[5]--our artists are tradesmen and their tradesmen are artists. In all articles of simple usefulness we have an unquestionable superiority, but where something more than convenience or durability is required our designers seem quite helpless. A certain funeral car will occur to many as an example of this truth, and, perhaps, by malicious persons, will be taken to shew how much or how little is to be expected from Government Schools of Art.