But without indulging too early in general observations, I will describe to you my own way of life in London. I rise late; read, like a half-nationalized foreigner, three or four newspapers at breakfast; look in my 'visiting-book' what visits I have to pay, and either drive to pay them in my cabriolet or ride. In the course of these excursions, I sometimes catch the enjoyment of the picturesque; the struggle of the blood-red sun with the winter fogs often produces wild and singular effects of light. After my visits are paid, I ride for several hours about the beautiful environs of London, return when it grows dark, work a little, dress for dinner, which is at seven or eight, and spend the evening either in the theatre or at some small party. The ludicrous 'routs,'--at which one hardly finds standing-room on the staircase,--where one pushes and is pushed, and is kept for hours in a hot-house temperature,--have not yet commenced. In England however, except in a few diplomatic houses, you can go nowhere in an evening except on special invitation. In these small parties there is not much 'géne,' but general conversation has no place: each gentleman usually singles out a lady who peculiarly interests him, and does not quit her for the whole evening. Many fair ones are thus frequently left sitting alone, without an opportunity of speaking a word; they however do not betray any dissatisfaction, even by a look or gesture, for they are of a very passive nature. Every body of course speaks French, as with us, 'tant bien que mal,' but this continued 'géne' annoys the ladies so much after a time, that a man has no little advantage who can speak English tolerably.