It is a common observation, that the more solicitous any people are about dress, the more effeminate they are.  I attribute it entirely to this idle adventitious passion for finery, that these people are become so over and above careful of their persons; they are for ever, and on every occasion, putting one another on their guard against catching cold; “you’ll certainly catch cold,” they always tell you if you happen to be a little exposed to the draught of the air, or if you be not clad, as they think, sufficiently warm.  The general topic of conversation in summer, is on the important objects of whether such and such an acquaintance be in town, or such a one in the country.  Far from blaming it, I think it natural and commendable, that nearly one half of the inhabitants of this great city migrate into the country in summer.  And into the country, I too, though not a Londoner, hope soon to wander.

Electricity happens at present to be the puppet-show of the English.  Whoever at all understands electricity is sure of being noticed and successful.  This a certain Mr. Katterfelto experiences, who gives himself out for a Prussian, speaks bad English, and understands beside the usual electrical and philosophical experiments, some legerdemain tricks, with which (at least according to the papers) he sets the whole world in wonder.  For in almost every newspaper that appears, there are some verses on the great Katterfelto, which some one or other of his hearers are said to have made extempore.  Every sensible person considers Katterfelto as a puppy, an ignoramus, a braggadocio, and an impostor; notwithstanding which he has a number of followers.  He has demonstrated to the people, that the influenza is occasioned by a small kind of insect, which poisons the air; and a nostrum, which he pretends to have found out to prevent or destroy it, is eagerly bought of him.  A few days ago he put into the papers:  “It is true that Mr. Katterfelto has always wished for cold and rainy weather, in order to destroy the pernicious insects in the air; but now, on the contrary, he wishes for nothing more than for fair weather, as his majesty and the whole royal family have determined, the first fine day, to be eye-witnesses of the great wonder, which this learned philosopher will render visible to them.”  Yet all this while the royal family have not so much as even thought of seeing the wonders of Mr. Katterfelto.  This kind of rhodomontade is very finely expressed in English by the word puff, which in its literal sense, signifies a blowing, or violent gust of wind, and in the metaphorical sense, a boasting or bragging.

Of such puffs the English newspapers are daily full, particularly of quack medicines and empirics, by means of which many a one here (and among others a German who goes by the name of the German doctor) are become rich.  An advertisement of a lottery in the papers begins with capitals in this manner,—­“Ten Thousand Pounds for a Sixpence!  Yes, however astonishing it may seem, it is nevertheless undoubtedly true, that for the small stake of sixpence, ten thousand pounds, and other capital prizes, may be won, etc.”—­But enough for this time of the puffs of the English.