THE ROAD. 
been accustomed to admire the muster of vehicles at 
the Tuilleries, must indeed open his eyes wide the first 
time he is in St. James's Street on the day of a levee 
or drawing-room. Hyde Park, however, on any fine 
afternoon, in the height of the London season, will be 
more than enough to confound him. He will there 
see what no other country under the heavens can shew 
him, and what is more, we may venture to add, what 
no other country ever will shew him. Let him only 
sit on the rail near our Great Captain's statue, with 
his watch in his hand, and in the space of two hours 
he will see a thousand well-appointed equipages pass 
before him to the Mall, in all the pomp of aristo- 
cratic pride, and in which the very horses themselves 
appear to partake. Everything he sees is peculiar : 
the silent roll and easy motion of the London-built 
carriage, the style of the coachmen ; it is hard to 
determine which shine brightest, the lace on their 
clothes, their own round faces, or their flaxen wigs, 
the pipe-clayed reins pipe-clayed lest they should soil 
the clean white gloves ; the gigantic young fellows, 
in huged cocked-hats bedaubed with lace, in laced silk 
stockings, new kid gloves, and with gold-headed canes, 
who tower above " Mr. Coachman's " head ; not for- 
getting the spotted coach -dog, which has just been 
washed for the occasion. The vis-a-vis, containing 
nobody but a single fair dame, with all its set-out, has 
cost at least a thousand pounds ; and the stream of 
equipages of all calibres barouches, chariots, cabriolets, 
112 
