The Press.
London, England, 1857-06-13 00:00:00

JUNE 13, 1857.

gowns and straw bonnets, whom two elegant but simply
ure'sed young women were superintending. Every voice
seemed to be united in singing a certain anthem, which,
notwithstanding it was written neither by Tate nor Brady,
contains some of the sublimest words which were ever put
together, not the worst of which are those which burst on
oar ears as we entered :
Every eye shall now behold Him,
Robed in dreadful majesty;
Those who set at nought and sold Him,
Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,
Deeply wailing,
Shall the true Messiah see.
Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the
chancel and along the aisle; notwithstanding the singing,
1 could distinctly hear as we passed many a voice
whispering, " Here come the gipsies! here come the
gipsies !" I felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat
awkward dcubt as to where we were to sit ; none of the
occupiers of the pews, who appeared to consist almost
entirely of farmers, with their wives, sons, and daughters,
opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, however,
appeared to feel not the least embarrassment, but tripped
along the aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We
passed under the pulpit, in which stood the clergyman in
his white surplice, and reached the middle of the chnrch,
where we were confronted by the sexton, dressed in long
blue coat, and holding in his hand a wand. This func-
tionary motioned towards the lower end of the church,
where were certain benches, partly occupied by poor
people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, with a toss
of her head, directed her course to a magnificent pew,
• which was unoccupied, which she opened and entered,
followed closely by Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and
myself. '1 lie sexton did not appear by any means to
approve of the arrangement, and as I stood next the door
laid his finger on my arm, as if to intimate that myself
and companions must quit our aristocratical location. I
said nothing, but directed my eyes to the clergyman, who
uttered a short and expressive cough ; the sexton looked
at him for a moment, and then, bowing his head, closed

the door—in a moment more the musie. ceased. I took
up a prayer•book, on which was engraved an earl's
coronet. The clergyman uttered, " I will arise, and go
to my father." England's sublime Liturgy had corn•
menced.

Our readers will perhaps be interested by
the following sketch of a Gipsy's full-dress
toilet :

About midday Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the
dingle to pay the promised visit. Belle, at the time of
their arrival, was in her tent, but I was at the fireplace,
engaged in hammering part of the outer-tire, or defence,
which had come off from one of the wheels of my vehicle.
On per:eiving them I forthwith went to receive them.
Mr. Petulengro was dressed in Roman fashion, with a
somewhat smartly-cut sporting coat, the buttons of which
were half•crowns—and a waistcoat, scarlet and black, the
buttons of which were spaded haltguineas ; his breeches
were of a stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords ex.
ceedingly broad. He had leggings of huff cloth, furred at
the bottom ; and upon his feet were highlows. Under his
left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, with a
red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head
was a hat with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which
the Spaniards call ca/ani, so much in favour with the
bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when I have added
that Mr. Petulengro bad on a very fine white Holland
shirt, I think I have described his array. Mrs. Petu-
lengro—l beg pardon for not having spoken of her first—
was also arrayed very much in the Roman fashion. Her
hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell
in braids on either side of her head. I❑ her ears were
rings, with long drops of gold. Round her neck was a
string of what seemed very much like very large pearls,
somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of consider-
able antiquity.

As in the case of many men of strong
imagination and ardent intellect, this mastery
of language and power of vivid description
is heavily counterbalanced by the habit of
violent and sweeping invective. Nothing can
be more charmingly graphic than Mr.
Borrow's sketches of English life--nothing
more odiously exaggerated than his attacks
upon English society.
Tune iromenss cavipirant mendacia folles
Conspuiturque sinus.
He foams and raves like a madman at
visionary objects of hostility. Let us take, for
instance, his chapter entitled " Gentility
Nonsense." Why, where have Mr. Borrow's
ears been for the last twenty years not to
know that the term " genteel," as well as the
idea which it conveys, has long been banished
to twelfth-rate boarding-schools and suburban
shopboys ? He reminds us of what Johnson
said of Goldsmith, that if sent abroad to
report on the inventions of foreign countries.
he would bring home a wheelbarrow, and
think he had made a great discovery.
in regard to the contempt with which Mr.
Borrow tells us the English upper classes
would regard the gipsy life, we totally differ
from him. Just now society is rather running
into the opposite extreme. Ethel Newcome,•
who loved an artist, is the most popular
heroine of the day. Mustachios and wide-
awakes attest the spread of Bohemianism in
the malo lex ; gentleunh travel by the