It being our intention in the course of this work to give a series of articles, under the title of " Metropolitan Sketches," descriptive of this our Great City-sometimes grave, sometimes gay; sometimes narrative, sometimes ficticious, and sometimes historical; but all well calculated to make the reader rightly acquainted with the several subjects and places of which they treat, we shall in the present instance simply confine ourselves to a statement of what London, as a whole is, and the difference between living there and in the country, or in a provincial town, which by the Metropolitans is usually called the country.

Few people entertain a correct notion of what London is, and still fewer possess the capability of conveying such a notion to any body else. Nothing is more common for those living remote from the Metropolis, than to make earnest and curious enquiries respecting it of those who have lately returned from it, and few conversations

have been found more interesting than those to which such enquiries have led.

To understand the nature of London life, it is requisite to be acquainted with the extent of the place, and we cannot do anything better to introduce this series of articles to our readers, than by giving an account of this, than by contrasting it, in some instances, with that of other cities. Though inferior in point of population to some capitals at present in existence, and said to be inferior to two which have already passed from the face of nations, London is unquestionably at this time the first city of the earth. It contains between 1,600,000 and 1,700,000 of inhabitants and indeed, with its dependencies can be said to be little short of 2,000,000. The population of Paris is about 750,000, of Edinburgh something short of 200,000, of Dublin about 230,000, of Rome about 75,000, of Madrid about 120,000, the most extensive of the Belgian and Dutch Cities from 90,000 to 120,000.

Within the walls it contains 102 parishes, and the whole of the City of London and its precincts cannot comprise much less than 200 parishes. The number of coaches, vans, and waggons, trading to London is stated at not less than 40,000. The number of vessels belonging to the port approaches to, if it does not exceed 3,000. The number of vessels trading with the port of London, including both home and foreign bottoms little less than 20,000, and the amount of merchandize annually transferred by means of the Metropolitan business, is said to be above £120,000,000 a most enormous sum. Ten years ago the consumption of provisions in London. amounted during twelve months to 466,118 sacks of flour 250,973 quarters of wheat 158,920 cows and oxen 1,485,080 sheep 770,000 lambs, 250,00 calves, 200,000 pigs, and 1,700,000 barrels of ale and porter, besides poultry, grain, vegetables, butter, cheese, and all those other things which comprise the necessaries of life.

For the accommodation of such an immense multitude as are here gathered together, there are 300,000 buildings, forming more than 11,000 streets and squares. The distance from the northern to the southern extremity of the Metropolis exceeds thirteen if not fourteen miles, whilst its length from east to west, if we are to include all that extent of building which reaches without any material interruption, and this we ought to do, is not less than twenty: the circumference of London may be fairly stated at upwards of fifty, and approaching even to the enormous length of sixty miles.

RECORDS OF A RAMBLER.

CHAPTER I.

Difficulties by the way.

IT was in the midst of summer— -the morning had, as usual, been awakened from its slumbers by the sweet sounds of lark and linnet, and all the most touching melodies of vocal Nature herself. She had come forth too, as summer mornings often do, arrayed in her gorgeous apparel of ethereal blue, seeming fully conscious that her balmy zephyrs had the power of inviting both old and young to walk abroad and inhale the fragrance of

the dew.

I was one among the number of youthful buoyant spirits who, in spite of persuasive admonitions, longed to trip across the lawn, and take a salubrious draught from some of life's pleasant waters. Once, at this period of the year, I indulged my long-cherished passion for a ramble towards the remains of an old ruined fabric which, notwithstanding its present molested condition, had borne the ravages of warring elements for ages before without the slightest tremble; yet, now, the vast pile lay in solitude, surrounded by a profusion of bright flowers, in the midst of waving trees, the real cheerfulness of which served but to make the forsaken halls of the departed look more desolate and lonely.

There is something so noble in the appearance of scenes like these, united as they are with the faded grandeur of the past, and the animated beauty of the present; that no eye can rest for a moment, nor the heart reflect on the picture before it, without feeling ideas arise which represent such joys or sorrows as were the companions of those, whose lightsome feet once trod the marble chambers, where the wolf now hides by day, and the screech-owl hoots by night.

But I need not dwell on the outward devastation of

these things, since there is sufficient in every heart for a far more exalted reflection, when a glimpse is taken of the cares and perplexities which lead us from youth to manhood, and abide with us from manhood until old age. I wandered from the ruins of this ancient edifice towards the brow of a high hill, which overlooked a wide and most beautiful valley; from the summit, the traveller might discover a gentle descent to the several neighbouring hamlets, where a number of small cottages, each surrounded by its well-cultivated garden plot, and looking around upon its own snug little domain; perchance situated near the border of some peaceful lake, or skirted by a low murmuring brook, which well harmonized with the native simplicity which dwelt around, and more so with the ideas of Gray, when he says that beneath his own village trees,

"His listless length, at noontide, would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that bubbles by."

Far in the distance, the grey hills of the valley's boundary showed themselves, closing in the picture with that bold effect which the painter, not less than the poet, might have mused upon with rapture. I now bent my steps through several pleasant fields of corn, and passed many a simple flower which grew near the foot-path, and drew my attention towards them. Hours passed in this way, and I returned home fatigued; but, with the sun's decline, I could not resist the desire of again seeking the hill top, where I stood in the morning; for I had already felt a love for the prospect it afforded. Thither, then, I hastened, and beheld the glorious orb of heaven once more sink into repose. But, oh! the scene was more lovely than before, and every object illumined, as it were, by the golden beams of an immortal land, awakened in my bosom a holy fervour which it had scarcely felt before, While thus musing, my eyes fell upon a somewhat rude stone, near me, which was shadowed over by a small