Burry River, where the quality of the coal is much improved, approaching nearer to that of Newcastle.  The national importance of the inexhaustible supply of this mineral which exists in Wales, is incalculable; but as it has already been alluded to in The Mirror, in an extract from Mr. Bakewell’s Geology, we will not farther pursue the subject.[4] While mentioning the trade of Swansea, we should not omit to state that two extensive potteries, tin and ironworks, and founderies, &c., and bonding warehouses and yards for foreign goods, &c. exist here.

VYVIAN.

    [2] See Mirror, vol. xvi.

    [3] The small of the stone-coal.

    [4] See Mirror, vol. xii.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE ANNUALS.

A FRENCH GENTLEMAN’S LETTER TO AN ENGLISH FRIEND IN LONDON.

Ah my deer frend—­I cannot feel the plaisir I expresse to come to your country charming, for you see.  We are arrive at Southampton before yesterday at one hour of the afternoon, and we are debarked very nice.  I never believe you when at Paris, you tell me that the Englishwomen get on much before our women; but now I agree quite with you; I know you laughing at your countrywomen for take such long steps!  My faith!  I never saw such a mode to walk; they take steps long like the man!  Very pretty women! but not equal to ours!  White skins, and the tint fresh, but they have no mouths nor no eyes.  Our women have lips like rose-buttons; and eyes of lightning; the English have mouth wide like the toads, and their eyes are like "dreaming sheeps," as one of our very talented writers say, “mouton qui reve.”  It is excellent, that.  I am not perceived so many English ladies tipsy as I expect; our General Pilon say they all drink brandy; this I have not seen very much.  I was very surprise to see the people’s hair of any colour but red, because all our travellers say there is no other hair seen, except red or white!  But I come here filled with candour, and I say I have seen some people whose hair was not red.  You tell me often at Paris, that we have no music in France.  My dear friend, how you are deceived yourself!  Our music is the finest in the world, and the German come after; you other English have no music; and if you had some, you have no language to sing with.  It is necessary that you may avow your language is not useful for the purpose ordinary of the world.  Your window of shop are all filled at French names—­“des gros de Naples,” “des gros des Indes,” “des gros d’ete,” &c.  If English lady go for demand, show me, if you please, sir, some “fats of Naples,” some “fats of India,” and some “fats of summer,” the linendraper not understand at all.  Then the colours different at the silks, people say, “puce evanouie,” “oeil de l’empereur,” “flammes, d’enfer,” “feu de l’opera;” but you never hear lady say, I go for have gown made of “fainting fleas,”