emanded, "What is the reason, sir, that the Americans think everything in
their own country so much better than it is everywhere else?" You will
suppose that the _brusquerie_, as well as the purport of this
interrogatory, occasioned some surprise. How he knew I was an American at
all I am unable to say, but the fellow had been fidgeting the whole time
to break out upon me with this question.

I mention the anecdote, in order to show you how lively and general the
feeling of jealousy has got to be among our transatlantic kinsmen. There
will be a better occasion to speak of this hereafter.

London was empty. The fashionable streets were actually without a soul,
for minutes at a time; and, without seeing it, I could not have believed
that a town which, at certain times, is so crowded as actually to render
crossing its streets hazardous, was ever so like a mere wilderness of
houses. During these recesses in dissipation and fashion, I believe that
the meanest residents disappear for a few months.

Our fellow-traveller, Mr. L----, however, was in London, and we passed a
day or two in company. As he is a votary of music, he took me to hear
Madame Pasta. I was nearly as much struck with the extent and magnificence
of the Opera-house, as I had been with the architecture of the Abbey. The
brilliant manner in which it was lighted, in particular, excited my
admiration, for want of light is a decided and a prominent fault of all
scenic exhibitions at home, whether they are made in public or in private.
Madame Pasta played _Semiramide_ "How do you like her?" demanded L----, at
the close of the first act. "Extremely; I scarce know which to praise the
most, the command and the range of her voice, or her powers as a mere
actress. But, don't you think her exceedingly like the _Signorina?_" The
present Madame Malibran was then singing in New York, under the name of
Signorina Garcia. L---- laughed, and told me the remark was well enough,
but I had not put the question in exactly the proper form. "Do you not
think the Signorina exceedingly like Madame Pasta?" would have been
better. I had got the matter wrong end foremost.

L---- reminded me of our having amused ourselves on the passage with the
nasal tones of the chorus at New York. He now directed my attention to
the same peculiarity here. In this particular I saw no difference; nor
should there be any, for I believe nearly all who are on the American
stage, in any character, are foreig