On Sunday I attended the Octagon Chapel, to hear a celebrated young preacher, and was handed by the pew-opener into a seat where there was a charming lady, who shewed me every attention, and even gave me her own book with the different parts of the service marked. I was most sensible of her civility, and thanked her for her kindness, which she politely but distantly acknowledged. The next day, I went with my friends to Mrs. F---’s soirée, in the Circus, where, to my surprise and pleasure, I again met this houri, when we soon got into conversation. She told me how astonished she was when she heard a “Turk” read and sing, etc.; she asked me many questions regarding my opinion of England and English customs, etc., and particularly what were my first impressions on hearing the vocal music of this country. I candidly said, that it seemed to me like the howlings of my own countrymen over the bodies of departed friends; I added, however, that in my case the old proverb “use is second nature,” had proved true, for now that I had become accustomed to it, the vocal as well as instrumental music of this country possessed great charms for me, especially since I have heard the enchanting voice of Miss S---, whom I met at Mrs. B---’s. This has effected a total change in my opinions; and if I were now asked the same question, remembering these sweet sounds I allude to, I should compare hers, at least, to the song of the Bulbul. My fair questioner was highly amused at my description of “first impressions” on this subject, from which we diverged into other matters of conversation; and I finally left my kind entertainer’s house with an impression of her hospitality, and of the fair community of Bath, more agreeable than were my first impressions of English music, and certainly not so likely to be changed. I desire also publicly to thank the inhabitants of Bath generally, as well as the municipal authorities of the city, for the practical kindness I experienced from them during my visit.
As I am on the subject of Bath, I may as well mention my last visit to that gay and delightful city, in the course of which a grand ball was given by the bachelors to their friends. I was kindly invited to it by Mr. Nugent, whose zeal and activity in promoting the harmless gaieties of the place are the theme of praise with every one, and of whose polite attention to strangers I cannot speak too highly. Nothing that money and taste could effect was spared to make the ball one of the most brilliant and magnificent entertainments that I have witnessed in this country. The Rooms were celebrated, I hear, in former times as the scene where many a fair houri made her _début_ in the fashionable world, and were decorated in a style of elegance which reflected the greatest credit on the artists. I can only say, that whatever may have been their by-gone attractions, it is impossible that the display of bright eyes and graceful forms could ever have surpassed what I gazed upon that night. To attempt to describe this fairy scene would require the pen of a poet, that I might give adequate expression to my admiration of the beauty by which I was surrounded. I will quote, however, a passage from an Eastern author, which I think apropos to the occasion:—