The theatres at New Orleans are neat and airy.  Lola Montez succeeded in creating a great furore, at last.  I say “at last,” because, as there really is nothing in her acting above mediocrity, she received no especial encouragement at first, although she had chosen her own career in Bavaria as the subject in which to make her debut. She waited with considerable tact till she was approaching those scenes in which the mob triumph over order; and then, pretending to discover a cabal in the meagre applause she was receiving, she stopped in the middle of her acting, and, her eyes flashing fire, her face beaming brass, and her voice wild with well-assumed indignation, she cried—­“I’m anxious to do my best to please the company; but if this cabal continues, I must retire!” The effect was electric.  Thunders of applause followed, and “Bravo, Lolly!” resounded through the theatre, from the nigger-girl in the upper gallery to the octogenarian in the pit.  When the clamour had subsided, some spicy attacks on kingcraft and the nobles followed most opportunely; the shouts were redoubled; her victory was complete.  When the piece was over, she came forward to assure the company that the scenes she had been enacting were all facts in which she had, in reality, played the same part she had been representing that evening.  Thunders of “Go it, Lolly! you’re a game ‘un, and nurthin’ else!” rang all through the house as she retired, bowing.  She did not appear in the character of “bowie-knifing a policeman at Berlin;” and of course she omitted some scenes said to have taken place during interviews with the king, and in which her conduct might not have been considered, strictly speaking, quite correct.  She obtained further notoriety after my departure, by kicking and cuffing a prompter, and calling the proprietor a d—­d scoundrel, a d—­d liar, and a d—­d thief, for which she was committed for trial.  I may as well mention here, that the theatre was well attended by ladies.  This fact must satisfy every unprejudiced mind how utterly devoid of foundation is the rumour of the ladies of America putting the legs of their pianofortes in petticoats, that their sensitive delicacy may not receive too rude a shock.  Besides the theatres here, there is also an opera, the music of which, vocal and instrumental, is very second-rate.  Nevertheless, I think it is highly to the credit of New Orleans that they support one at all, and sincerely do I wish them better success.

The town is liberally supplied with churches of all denominations.  I went one Sunday to a Presbyterian church, and was much struck on my entry at seeing all the congregation reading newspapers.  Seating myself in my pew, I found a paper lying alongside of me, and, taking it up, I discovered it was a religious paper, full of anecdotes and experiences, &c., and was supplied gratis to the congregation.  There were much shorter prayers than in Scotland, more reading of the Bible, the same amount of singing,