takes, by knocking, at the doors of those to whom I had letters of introduction, at a part of the day, when the only persons expected were the milkman, the baker, or the butcher. After having had my patience exhausted in waiting at several houses for admission, I found it was uniformly denied me, while many a yawning footman, as he answered my enquiries from the area, said his master would not be visible for at least four hours. I have therefore found it necessary on this point also to conform to your usages. Being, however, habitually an early riser, it was essential to my comfort that the mornings should not be thrown away, and I have found a delightful resource in devoting that portion of my time to the sights of London. In this manner I have already been enabled to visit St. Paul's, the Tower, Westminster Abbey, and the British Museum, without interfering with any other pursuits. By this arrangement (for which I have, as a precedent, the high authority of the imperial Alexander) I vary and multiply my enjoyments, and take care never to appear in the purlieus of haut ton, till, to use the phrase of one of your most celebrated elegantes, "the day is properly aired." Indeed it appears to me that the British capital is inhabited by two distinct classes of people, one of whom might take for its emblem the bee, and the other the drone. If at nine o'clock I go into your courts of law, I find the learned judges of the land attended by a numerous and respectable bar, and by juries, witnesses, and attornies in the full exercise of their important functions. If I extend my walk to the city, I read in the anxious countenances and - rapid paces of all I meet, the activity of men of business; while carriages and wagons of every description, loaded with merchandize, shew, that in this division of the town the value of time is properly appreciated; and if at the dawn of day I take an aquatic excursion on your beautiful Thames, I find it already enlivened by the animating sight of innumerable vessels in full sail, carrying the fruits of your industry to the most distant corners of the earth, or bringing home the wealth of the world. I often smile, and enjoy a moment of self-approbation, when, after an interesting survey of this kind, which has busily filled up 6 or 7 hours,Í direct my steps to Bond-street, and find the fashionable morning just beginning. It seems, that in the western part of London "il ne fait pas jour," as we say in France, till about three o'clock of the natural afternoon; and though from thence till seven or eight o'clock constitutes the whole period between breakfast and dinner, yet even that short interval is too long for the tedium of idleness. What vigilant ingenuity has been exercised in devising new methods of destroying time and resisting ennui. Yet what languor and apathy mark the features of the most celebrated votaries of pleasure. What sauntering indifference is displayed in the steps of the well-dressed pedestrians, who, at the accustomed moment, commence their daily pilgrimage from the top of Bond-street to the end of Pall-Mall. Some stop at the fruitshops, and, careless of consequences, run up a bill for early strawberries, forced peaches, and pine-apple ices, which becomes not unfrequently the cause of their ending their days within the walls of the King's Bench prison. Some empty their purses in bidding for useless baubles at the splendid auction rooms of Phillips and Christie. Some are attracted by the grotesque prints exhibited at the windows of the caricature sellers, and while staring at them pay dearly for their amusement in losing their money and watches which become the prey of surrounding pickpockets. Some are persuaded to try their fortune at the gaming table or billiard rooms, and among the vast crowd of loungers, scarcely any can resist the varied temptations which shops of every kind hold out to the vanity or the wants of the passers by. The ladies who occupy the splendid equipages which so thickly fill the same streets, at the same time, seem to be not much better amused than the humble loiterers on foot; and not less anxious than they to have recourse to every possible stimulus which novelty offers, no matter at what expense to dissipate the gloom of unoccupied folly. At the panoramas, bazaars', milliners', perfumers', and above all, at the jewellers' shops, what strings of these carriages are seen, and how beautiful, yet how lifeless, do the women appear whom they contain. Hither they come, not to purchase necessaries or even ornaments wanted for any particular occasion, but in the vain hope, by lavish ing money, to get rid of the load of en nui. Indeed, I am told, this favourite recreation, which your ladies call shopping, is often the cause of serious injury to the fortunes of their husbands. And a gentleman, who resides here, tells me that he was under the necessity of laying down his carriage, because he ascertained, by dire experience, that while his wife possessed an equipage, she could not resist the inclination of shewing it in Bond-street; and when there, she daily wasted such sums in the acquisition of trinkets and other costly playthings, as at the end of the year amounted to a much larger total than his whole income afforded. I am conscious, however, that as a Frenchman, I am not very patriotic in criticizing this habit of your English belles, for I am told that French China, French Gowns, French pocket handkerchiefs, French bijoux, and above all French rouge, are the articles which form the principal allurements. From five till seven o'clock a migration takes place, and I see the same well-dressed crowds assembled in Hyde Park. Here I again admire the charms of the women, the beauty of the horses, and the neat assortment of the numerous carriages-but while I confess that it is impossible for wealth and magnificence to make a prouder display, I must be permitted to remark, that I observe but few "merry faces," that every body seems to come hither "to see and to be seen," and that in performing a task enjoined by vanity and fashion, pleasure is rarely enjoyed. Nor can I dismiss this part of my subject without expressing my surprise that, with the whole range of so fine a park at their command, the frequenters of this favourite promenade confine themselves to the limited and ill-chosen space between Picadilly and Cumber land gates, where they are subject not only to the smoke of the adjoining houses, but also to the annoyance of city fogs, whenever an easterly wind prevails; and, in writing to an old inhabitant of London, I need not remind him how often that occurs. For such inconveniences, however, I suppose they think themselves indemnified, by being drawn into a smaller circle, for I observe, that crowds form so material an ingredient in an Englishman's ideas of enjoyment, that every opportunity is taken of collecting them. Nothing on this occasion has surprised me more, than to see ladies, as well as gentlemen, piloting their way on horseback between the closedrawn ranks of carriages which parade up and down. Is it not strange that your wives and daughters should thus at once expose themselves to considerable risk, and make an exhibition so very inconsistent with that delicacy, which is generally believed to form one of the most amiable characteristics of Englishwomen? I am told, indeed, that the fashion is a new one, and that it is only within these few years, that female equestrians of character have made their appearance in this cavalcade. If so, let us hope, that it is only one of those accidental whims, in which the most faultless of the sex will occasionally indulge; and that, after this season, the belles of Britain will disdain to enter the lists with coachmen and barouche-drivers. The Having presumed in this letter to censure freely, where I thought censure deserved, I shall not conclude it without performing a more agreeable task, in telling you, that take it for all in all, I am delighted with London. pleasing contrasts (as I have already. had occasion to observe) presented in the two distinct characters and different habits of the commercial and idle parts of the population of this great city, afford a vast and amusing variety of objects. Indeed, I have so many present, that my only difficulty consists in selecting between things equally interesting. In my early excursions, I hesitate between a walk to Kensington-Gardens, which, though deserted, are delightful in fine weather, or a visit of curiosity to the Wet-Docks, the British Museum, the Courts of Law, or the Exhibition at Somerset-House. When the protracted morning of fashion begins, I find it no less difficult to determine, whether I will join the gay promenaders in St. James's-street-spend two or three hours in examining the numberless treasures of some of your many interesting shops-or avail myself of that liberality, which has opened the splendid Picture Galleries of Lords Grosve nor and Stafford, and others, to the inspection of the public; and when evening approaches, I am again puzzled, (thanks to your friendly recommendations) between a number of invitations to dinner, balls, and other assemblies, all of which it is impossible to accept. of them I shall say nothing at present, my letter being already too long; but shall reserve my remarks on private society till my next. Adieu, then, And believe me ever your's, To love and live for one alone, Which most we wish to see ; To strive the lonely hour to bless, The heart then feels no loneliness, But to gaze on the desert home, The lov'd one far away, And count the ling'ring days to come, And mourn o'er the delay; Watch for the well known step,--to hear A stranger foot intrude; Then dash away the starting tear,- To wander thro' the festive scene, To stray where lighter hearts have been, ON THE ENTRANCE OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, INTO EDINBURGH. But now!-and do mine eyes behold, When o'er our land this flood has roll'd, The sunlight of the days of old In James' royal line? Then wake anew the olden strain!- And pleasure light the scene:- To Mary, Scotland's Queen! (Monthly Magazine.) THE ACTUAL STATE OF THE GREEK ISLANDS. By Markay Zalloni, a native of Tinos, and Physician to Prince Alexander Suzzo. AMONG the numerous descriptions extant of the Egean sea, at present called the Archipelago, I do not think there is one which perfectly answers the end that every writer of such descriptions should propose to himself. In general, I perceive that travellers who have published accounts of Greece are more willing to inform us what this country has been, than what it is at present. They appear to have been indefatigable in their researches after the remains of monuments, but to have passed over in silence the manners and institutions of the Greece of our days. In reading their works, it appears that these countries are now deserted in such a degree, as not to be worth the attention of the traveller, but only on account of the rare vestiges of that grandeur so long since vanished. The labours of the learned, with a view to supply us with correct notions, particularly with respect to antiquity, are beyond contradiction worthy of the highest eulogiums, and in this view are highly useful. But ought the modern Greeks to be neglected, in order to confine all their observations to the ancients? They seem to think that the vestiges of the best days of Greece are only to be found in mutilated statues and monuments, buried marbles, in medals, tombs, &c. ; but why not look for them in the Greeks themselves? Their character and manners certainly afford a picture of those of their predecessors, though it must be allowed to be imperfect and confused. Meditating in the environs of Athens upon a mutilated statue, or the portico of an old temple of Neptune or Apollo, covered with moss, we are transported with admiration for the statuary or the architect who created this chef d'œuvre. At least we may be certain that the modern Greeks have been formed of the same clay as their ancestors, and would be capable of the most heroic actions, if their energies had not been exhausted in their incessant struggle against all the evils attendant upon the yoke of despotism under which they had fallen. Modern Greece merits more attention than is generally imagined; its inhabitants have not degenerated so far as not to retain any traces among thema of the descendants of heroes: but, to paint them faithfully, the writer should be one among them; he should mingle with their customs and manners; he should act, converse, and live with them freely, and without restraint. It is from this consideration that, being myself a Greek, I have presumed to describe the Greek nation. Having chosen a subject with which I am best acquainted, I shall relate with the most careful accuracy all that I know of TINOS, my native country. At first view, my work may appear uninteresting, and some astonishment may be excited at my describing so small an island with so much detail, as it does not contain more than 25,000 inhabitants, or, in other words, where the population does not exceed that of one of the smallest cities in Europe; but this surprise will disappear, when it is found that each island of the Archipelago, and even each town in Greece, offers innumerable features worthy of detail. It will now be my task to describe the genius and character of the inhabitants of Tinos, and upon this subject I shall principally dwell. My object is to exhibit to the world the portrait of a modern Greek, with all his merits and defects; to the one I shall do justice with pleasure, and impartially censure the other. My intention is not to flatter my country; and therefore I shall be guided by the strictest impartiality. In the eyes of travellers, the inhabitants of the Greek isles appear to be nothing above the insignificant guardians of the ruins and rubbish time has not yet annihilated. In general those travellers never speak of these people but as it were in conformity with a re ceived custom, just to mention that there are inhabitants. I must add, that such travellers receive very indifferent information; they are generally deceived; they do not put their questions pointedly, and they examine with too little caution. A person, for instance, arrives at Tinos, and after some questions superficially put to three or four inhabitants, which are perhaps as loosely answered, he seems as well satisfied as if he had resided there for years. Upon this ground of information he publishes his travels in a pleasing style; but, pursuing antiquities on all sides with a species of frenzy, every thing else is neglected. Information thus obtained must evidently be far from accurate. The inhabitants of the isle of Tinos, like all those of the rest of Greece, are very reserved when enquiries are made by strangers which may tend to their prejudice. With respect to ancient monuments, they observe the most rigorous silence; in this they are not guilty of dissimulation, but are discreet and prudent. Nevertheless, it has frequently happened that an inhabitant has been persecuted, and even ruined, because the knowledge of his having some old mutilated statue in his possession has transpired to the Turks. It is then under a pretext that this inhabitant has found treasures, that the Turks, who are not ignorant of the ridiculous infatuation with which these objects are sought after by the Europeans, never neglect to seize upon what they choose to say has been found, and condemn it to confiscation. Thus, if an islander happens to discover a subterranean passage, or a well, or should probably dig up any inscriptions, remains of tombs, &c. he will, if possible, conceal it even from his own family. Otherwise the least indiscretion would draw down the most terrible vengeance on his head. In the meanwhile, because the traveller does not find what he seeks for, he imagines that it does not exist; especially as he has heard nothing said upon the subject. Tinos, as to its extent, is one of the most considerable islands in the Archipelago, and was the last of the Grecian isles in the possession of the Venetians; in 1714, when it came under the Turkish dominion, the Grand Seignor gave it as a fief to Veli Effendi Zade. Notwithstanding this, the inhabitants are are as much autonomes, or governed by their own laws, as they were under the Romans. A tribunal is chosen among themselves, from whence every two years two primates, or proestotes, are selected, who are charged with the administration of their affairs, having under them subaltern officers called Epitropes. Though these primates should be re-elected every two years, it sometimes happens they are continued by the people, and sometimes they maintain their places, notwithstanding the opposition of popular feeling; but this is when they are protected by some grandee at Constantinople. The annual tribute paid by these primates to the Turkish government is from 2,500l. to 3,000l. Some time before this tribute is delivered, the Proestotes order the Protogheris or chiefs of the villages to get the money ready. These chiefs then assemble the inhabitants in their districts; and at this kind of councils different sums are imposed upon each individual, according to their ability. It is a kind of poll-tax; besides which, so much is levied for a hive of bees, a horse, a goat, a house, a dove-house, or any sort of real property; but no person is liable to this kind of capitation under the age of fifteen. This Any inhabitant being unable or unwilling to pay this tax is liable to have a summons to attend at St. Nicolo; and, if this is disobeyed, the proestotes can go in person, or send others, to place a seal upon the entrance of the dwelling of the offending party. seal is very simple: it is a slip of paper fastened on with wax, and the impression is frequently made with the piece of money called para, worth about a farthing. It is very seldom, indeed, that payment does not immediately follow this procedure. For, though the primates have no armed force to second the execution of their orders, they are generally respected and obeyed. Sometimes, when it is necessary to use more than ordinary rigour, the inhabitants become irritated, and proceed to open revolt. To escape their resentment |