London; and we have no doubt that London will fully appreciate his show.

With regard to Mrs. Brown-Potter, as acting is no longer considered
absolutely essential for success on the English stage, there is really no
reason why the pretty bright-eyed lady who charmed us all last June by
her merry laugh and her nonchalant ways, should not--to borrow an
expression from her native language--make a big boom and paint the town
red. We sincerely hope she will; for, on the whole, the American
invasion has done English society a great deal of good. American women
are bright, clever, and wonderfully cosmopolitan. Their patriotic
feelings are limited to an admiration for Niagara and a regret for the
Elevated Railway; and, unlike the men, they never bore us with Bunkers
Hill. They take their dresses from Paris and their manners from
Piccadilly, and wear both charmingly. They have a quaint pertness, a
delightful conceit, a native self-assertion. They insist on being paid
compliments and have almost succeeded in making Englishmen eloquent. For
our aristocracy they have an ardent admiration; they adore titles and are
a permanent blow to Republican principles. In the art of amusing men
they are adepts, both by nature and education, and can actually tell a
story without forgetting the point--an accomplishment that is extremely
rare among the women of other countries. It is true that they lack
repose and that their voices are somewhat harsh and strident when they
land first at Liverpool; but after a time one gets to love these pretty
whirlwinds in petticoats that sweep so recklessly through society and are
so agitating to all duchesses who have daughters. There is something
fascinating in their funny, exaggerated gestures and their petulant way
of tossing the head. Their eyes have no magic nor mystery in them, but
they challenge us for combat; and when we engage we are always worsted.
Their lips seem made for laughter and yet they never grimace. As for
their voices, they soon get them into tune. Some of them have been known