No. 362.

LADIES'

FROM OUR FRENCH CORRESPONDENT.

BOULEVARD DES ITALIENS, 28th January, 1861.

CHERE AMIE, The toilettes for out-door use continue much the same, for neglige various fancy articles of cloth, silk for demi-toilette, and velvet for richer style of dress. Light colours are not worn at all in morning toilette, the form Imperatrice cut bias and the body without separation from the front breadth is the style most generally adopted, scarcely any other is used except for very rich materials, and even for these when the body is required to be high; the dress is trimmed in front with buttons matching the colours prevailing in the material.

A very splendid new material rivals velvet this season in Paris for full dress, it is black lampas with bouquets Pompadour embroidered in the material, others of light colours checked in another shade with stars of gold or silver thread.

Robes of iron grey velvet are worn for morning visits of the form Imperatrice, tight elbow sleeves and cuffs of point d'Alençon in two deep rows rather full, the dress trimmed with a wide band of Astracan fur. Pelisse of the same colour similarly trimmed and muff to match. Bonnet of black velvet with an aigrette of China pink and one of black, black brides the ends having plaques of pink velvet trimmed with black lace.

Among elegant dinner toilettes one of blue moire francaise was ornamented on front of the skirt by black lace; wide open sleeves lined with white taffetas. Another of gros grains of light green ground with bouquets bouches had a plissé of plain taffetas marking tunic on the skirt commencing at each side of the waist, high body ornamented by a plissé forming bretelles; elbow sleeves with revers trimmed with plissés. A simple dress of the princesse form was of taffetas striped in two shades of mauve, a row of buttons from top to bottom of mauve and violet silk, elbow sleeves with open revers ornamented by similar buttons. A handsome dress of velvet was elegantly trimmed with guimpe, the corsage low, cut square before and behind, buttoning on each side, a row of guimpe mixed with bugles, short bouillonne sleeves with epaulet of guimpe. A pretty dinner dress was of very thick black taffetas with satin stripe, between which sprigs of red and green flowers; the body rather high of square form, trimmed with a ruche of taffetas in the three different colours red green and black edging the body, and embroidered muslin guimpe inside with ruche of muslin round the throat, elbow sleeves with revers trimmed as the body, the skirt has large plissés of black red and green. Long ermine tippets are very fashionable to place on the shoulders, some are of swan's down, and chinchilla is beginning to reappear. Astracan fur harmonizes with all colours, and is agreeable to wear from its lightness, but bear is equally fashionable, and ornaments the richest out-door toilettes as much as Astracan, which is used for paletots of velours delaine.

A pardessus of marron cloth was entirely bordered by black velvet, the sleeves, of the elbow form but very wide, had cuffs of black velvet, and three large spreading noeuds of velvet closed it on the chest.

Common guimpes no longer please on the bodies and skirts of dresses, the grelots, plats stamped velvets are not considered handsome enough, points d'Espagne, guipures de Venise, forming complete ornaments for silk dresses placed on high bodies of the Imperatrice form, and continued, gradually increasing in width, to the bottom of the skirt; this forms a very rich trimming, the revers of the sleeves and long ceinture correspond, they have a fringe falling on each side the revers.

The fashion of white chemisettes inside the little Zouave jackets is continued, particularly for young persons; nothing can be prettier than this chemise matelot, whether made of white flannel, the wristbands and collar embroidered with red, or of cambric muslin embroidered and trimmed with Valenciennes. Many corsages are checked with velvet, in which is worn a guimpe of tulle illusion bouillonné, or thin muslin embroidered.

There are various forms of fichu, all pretty; some are high, of the square form, others of the round pelerine form, trimmed with white blond; others are with ruches of ribbon, and worn with a body made on purpose, so that by changing the skirt only, a different toilette is at

VoL. 34.

Ball dresses are still made with double skirts. A robe of white satin was covered by three skirts of tulle; at the bottom of each was a ruche of white taffetas pinked and placed a little above the hem; these three skirts were gradually raised on the left side, supported by a chatelaine of poppies, corsage drapé, short bouffantes sleeves with double square sleeves entirely open and floating. Another toilette was of pink tarlatane; on the skirt were fourteen Pompadour flounces fluted, pointed body with berthe of tarlatane trimmed with frills, bouffante sleeves, at the point of the body in front a nœud Duchesse of tarlatane trimmed with a plissé of pink ribbon. Most are with tunic skirts this winter, and when the tunic is of tulle it is termed Voile. Tarlatane has rather lost favour. Tulle is the most fashionable, with gauze satinée, plain or spotted with gold; for young ladies, however, tarlatane is used with pinked flounces, or trimmed with narrow velvet or ruches; the flounces are to the knee, and a Voile of tulle is on the skirt attached by nœuds and flowers, sometimes the tunic is the same trimmed with a narrow flounce or a bouillonné.

A pretty little girl's dress was of marron popeline, ornamented by black velvet in a Grecian pattern. The dress was made of the Imperatrice form, the body being without separation from the skirt, the sleeves with revers as those of ladies, and a round pelerine, also ornamented with a Grecian pattern. Another pretty toilette was of blue taffetas trimmed with plush. Little boy's wear the paletot of velvet or cloth, the toilette russe with the round hats Henri III. bordered with velvet. A frock of grey woollen material had two bands of black velvet, forming bretelles on the body and descending en tablier on the skirt. Another of white and blue popeline had a wide band of blue velvet at the bottom of the skirt, and repeated on the body and sleeves. A pretty style of pardessus for a little girl is a paletot of black and white striped woollen material, with pelerine trimmed with a wide plissé of taffetas.

Bonnets of satin, capitonné are much in favour for negligé, sometimes the front and bavolet are of velvet, the colours continue to be mixed as well as the materials, all imaginable fancies are admissible; plain veivet is much used. For bonnets required for any occasion, when the toilette is very elegant, crape preferred, covered with white tulle blond or velours royal, ornamented with feathers or flowers, a bonnet with a soft crown of tulle spotted, had the front and bavoiet of pink velours royal, on the left side was a pink feather, inside white blond cap at the cheeks with tops of pink feathers forming bandeau. Another bonnet of light green velvet had a scarf of black lace on the front, inside white blond cap with bandeau of black lace and green velvet flowers with calice of gold brides of very wide velvet.

Dress hats have a very marked change lately, the trimmings are on the top of the head, sometimes even a coronet of feathers all round the brim, two colours and sometimes three are used, velvet and taffetas are mixed, and the feathers are frequently black and white, no matter of what colour or material the hat may be made. As a novelty we give the following hat of black velvet with no ornament but a touffe of blue feathers placed round the hat, at the edge of the front the feathers were as light as marabouts and formed aureole; the same style may be adopted in white and black feathers. Dress caps are of great variety, those of a round form are very fashionable, they are trimmed with a coronet of flowers, ruches or ribbon.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ENGRAVINGS.

PLATE I.-Dinner Dress.-Robe of taffetas, the body is high with a trimming of pinked frills forming plastron of a square form on the body and descending en tablier down the skirt, sleeves with cuffs and epaulets.

Morning Dress.-Robe of droguet, the body is full, fastening down the body and skirt with small buttons and ceinture of wide ribbon with large noeud at the side, half-long sleeves with deep cuffs, edged by a plissé of ribbon, coiffure of hair and ribbon.

Child's Dress. - Frock of pink popeline, the skirt is ornamented by two biais up the sides, edged by two rows of narrow black velvet and buttons in the centre. Zouave jacket and chemisette of white muslin with sleeves.

trimmed with black velvet and ornamented with tassels. Bonnet of white satin with coral coloured flowers.

Ball Dress.-Robe of tulle with treple skirt, the two under ones ornamented with bouquets of flowers put on at intervals, the upper skirt plain, looped up at the side by a chatelaine and noeud with ends of white satin; the body with berthe in folds, and edged with lace, short bouillon sleeves with flowers as on the skirt, and similar ones in the hair with nœud of black velvet at the back.

Evening Dress.-Robe of pink satin. Opera cloak of green velvet trimmed with ermine. Coiffure of hair with flowers.

PLATE III.-Morning Dress-Robe of French moire, the body and skirt in one, and ornamented by black velvet, which descends from the shoulders to the waist, from which it gradually widens and is continued round the bottom of the skirt, a row of buttons from top to bottom, bell sleeves with velvet cuffs. Coiffure of hair and velvet ribbon.

Walking Dress.-Manteau of black moire with pelerine, ornamented by a deep band of velvet, a second forms a collar. Bonnet of satin ornamented with black lace and velvet, roses at the side.

Carriage Dress.- Pelisse of satin, opened in front and trimmed with a bouillon edged by narrower ones, the body is open to the waist with a plissé at the edge, the sleeves in bouillons with plissé's between and cuffs. Straw hat turned up with velvet and long feather.

PLATE IV.-Carriage bonnet of white Terry velvet, trimmed with lace, and a Magenta coloured flower.

THE CONTRACT versus MUTUAL LOVE.

"So it seems, Joe, thee and I shall get married about the same time," said Philip Jones, as he and Joe Turner walked to dinner from the Clothdyers' Yard, in Leeds, where both held situations of about the same value--30s. or 35s. per week.

"Yes," said Joe, shortly; "but what will you do with a wife who cannot bake or brew, wash or cook, sew or clean? My Fanny can do all this first-rate, or she would be no wife of mine. I think you are making a bad bargain."

"Ellen has had an unfortunate bringing up," rejoined Philip; "no mother, and factory life; but she is very willing to learn, for my sake. I am sure of that; and as I truly love her, and marry her with my eyes open, I mean to act justly by her, and give her time to learn, and be patient and kindly with her while she is learning. My faith is, kindness wins a woman, and kindness improves a woman better than anything."

Joe smiled sarcastically.

66

My wife must do her duty, and expect nothing from me unless it is done. If she has a clock before her, and won't be guided by it—if she have a decent home, and won't keep it decent-if she has the means to get me comforts, and don't get them-I should consider our contract at an end. I know it would be so, as far as I am concerned. A man had better put his head into the fire than have a careless, idle, useless wife."

"But, comrade, the contract is not-cannot be one of master and servant, much less (as some interpret it) of master and slave. We take a wife as our second self; and what are we in this proud SELF? Why, full of errors, mistakes, ignorances, deficiencies. So will your wife and mine find us; yet we expect them to be perfect! 'Tis unjust. Have we no sympathy for the wife's trials-no help, no friendly counsel-no forgiveness where she fails-no encouragement where she tries—no gratitude where she succeeds?"

"Certainly not," said Joe. "My method with Fanny will be short and clear-there is your work; here is mine. If you do your dutywell; if you do not-ill, as you will find."

"You are a worthy fellow, Joe; and I trust you have found a worthy wife. I am aware that I run some risk of shipwreck in my voyage out; but I know Ellen's heart-her love for me, and her purpose to strive to do the best she can for me. I shall help her along all I can; and by and by you may see us as comfortable on the principle of mutual love and sympathy as you on your contract."

The young men married, and began housekeeping in two neat cottages of three rooms.

Mary Jones and Fanny Turner were next door neighbours, having the same amount of money weekly to spend, and the same daily round of duties to fulfil.

A charming little housekeeper was Fanny, to begin with; and while all things went fair and easy, she continued so, fulfilling her "contract" strictly; but when the trials of a young family came, she changed sadly and often hid herself to weep when she should have been working.

Promenade bonnet of lavender coloured silk, with ruches of black lace, and a rosette of the same.

Second ditto of pink and black velvet, in stripes from the front to the crown, trimmed with pink ribbon and black lace.

Dejeuner bonnet of white crinoline, trimmed with rosettes of white satin ribbon intermixed with blond.

Morning cap of muslin, trimmed with blue ribbon edged with lace. Second ditto of net, trimmed with broad ribbon edged with lace, and pink flowers on each side.

Evening cap of white tulle, trimmed with violet ribbon, and rosettes of black lace.

Evening cap of black tulle, trimmed with narrow black velvet, and scarlet ribbon and flowers.

Habit shirt of muslin, made square in the neck, with a band of wide insertion, trimmed with cerese bows.

White sleeve of muslin, made with plaits at the cuff, fastened into a ruche of lace, ornamented with a bow of black velvet. Necktie of blue ribbon, edged with black lace.

DESCRIPTION OF MODEL.

The present Model given is of a Sleeve suitable for an indoor high dress, it is open to the bend of the arm.

ready for him, for the baby was ailing, and the mother was in arrears with her work.

"You never make allowances.

"I've been out of heart," she said. You always expect things the same.' " "I do and will."

"In that hard masterful way you have treated me ever since we married, and it seems to have altered me quite, so that I hardly know myself. I was a good manager, but my health was good then, and I had no sickly babe to nurse. You have no forbearance, no indulgence, no pity. You see me often tired, bewildered, and perplexed, and give me no comfort or assistance. You go to and fro from day to day, your health and spirits always equal, and you come home expecting this, and demanding that, and threatening and chilling me. You forget, Joe, that you ought to be my helpmate as well as I yours. Nothing troubles you, but I feel it; and you care not for my troubles. Is this wedded love?"

A blight was on the home that might have been so blest--the blight of an unsympathising temper. This depressed Fanny, and chilled her energies just in proportion as the need for them became more peremptory.

Her temper was naturally fiery and proud. His was obstinate and impassable. Bitter and violent words grew fast between them. Fanny gave up striving; all her duties were neglected, or half done, without hope or joy. Joe became more and more violent, until the hasty blow came to be added to the hasty word, and the domestic misery was complete. All the while Joe would not see that the root of bitterness was simply wounded feeling on his wife's part, and that he could have transformed the scene of strife to one of happiness, by a more liberal view of his contract, conforming to that lovely precept— "Bear ye oue another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." But while he persisted in compelling his wife to bear her burdens alone, her spirit rebelled, and her actions followed her feelings, as those of women generally do.

Ellen's was a very different married life. She began with a deep sense of her own deficiencies, but relying on her husband's sympathy, counsel, and support. It is astonishing how rapidly love teaches, how successfully love learns. Ellen found even more difficulties gather about her than had beset Fanny, and sometimes she was "ready to give up ;" but Philip heartened her on again. He was a true helpmate to her in everything, and that was how it was Ellen became at last so good a helpmate to him. If a dinner was a little behind time, if things were not as bright as they might be, if the "little woman looked untidy, or kept the washing "muddling about," Philip was still reasonable, and tender in reproof. By a few pleasant inquiries he tried to ascertain how the disarrangements came about, and thought about the remedies.

"Aye, to be sure-I see now!" Ellen would frankly exclaim, when the cause of the muddle, and the way out of it, were set plain before her. "Well, how stupid of me! Now, you dear, good Philip, just see if I don't do it right next time!"

"I'll bet sixpence that you won't." "I'll bet sixpence that I will."

And she was sure to win, acting from her feelings, in love and gratitude.

Thus, as Fanny's home fell into deeper and deeper confusion, from the want of that silver love-clue which would have extricated her from

“As neat and active and happy a little wife as any in England," said Philip.

Joe Turner now often "dropped in" at their happy fireside, where he was always welcome to smoke his pipe with his old friend. He would sit long in deep reveries, mooding over his disappointed hopes, and gloomily contrasting his home with Philip's. Then he would start up and talk of going to America or Australia. Philip, when they were alone, led him on gradually to talk of his unhappiness, and to investigate the causes which had led to it.

"Yes, I acknowledge that she was a good and managing young woman when I married her. Fanny was my pride as well as my delight."

"And for some time after she was your wife, you found her"— "Everything I could wish."

"Now, friend, be rational, and say,—if she changed so remarkably,— what changed her."

"That puzzles me."

“What?—suppose our master at the yard were to heap on you just double your ordinary business, and at the same time you lost half your ordinary strength of nerve and muscle-would it be puzzling why some of your work was left undone ?"

Joe reflected, as if struck with the comparison. Philip looked at him with a keen penetrating glance-" Think of that view of the case, old fellow, and fill your pipe."

The next evening Joe found a quiet opportunity to resume the conversation.

"Your wife, Philip, has had more to bear than mine. You have had two infants following close upon one another."

"She has had much to suffer and to do, Joe-poor Ellen has. But shall I tell you the secret of the difference between her and Fanny. Fanny was bound by your contract'-but Ellen only by the love whose service is perfect freedom--the love which casts out fear, which seeks mutual happiness through forbearance and sympathy."

Joe laid down his pipe, and rose with a smile irradiating his face. "Go home, my friend," said Philip. "Cast your contract to the winds, comfort and succour ye your wife, and begin a new life with her.'

"Philip, I will, as I am man."

And he did. From that day Fanny began to recover her lost energies, until her home once more was the abode of comfort and happiness.

TO THE ROBIN.

Perched upon a slender bough,
Robin sweet, I spy thee now;
And thank thee for each silvery note
Gushing from thy tiny throat.

Sing on, thou little trembler, sing-
To my heart sweet thoughts you bring,
And half-formed visions, brightly clear,
Seem wafted from another sphere.

Sing on loved bird, thy song is fraught
With gentle hope and holy thought,
Soft as those fleeting clouds I view,
Now melting from the heaven so blue.

The sunbeam warm upon my brow,
Falls in tender kisses flow;
Sealing those joyous hopes that came
Swelling in thy gentle strain.

EMMA.

REMEDIES. For sea-sickness, stay on shore.-For drunkenness, drink cold water. For the gout, board with the printer. To keep out of gaol, keep out of debt. To please everybody, mind your own business. To preserve your appetite, keep out of the kitchen.-To rally hunger, eat a hearty supper.

SOLDIERS IN PEACE.-Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordona, surnamed the Great Captain, said, that soldiers in peace were like chimneys in

ANECDOTES OF A DIANA MONKEY. ALTHOUGH anecdotes of monkeys are as numerous as the beings to whom they are said to owe their origin; although they are brought forward to all ages, and all times, still I have observed that no one gets tired of them, that their histories or portraits create an interest common to all human beings, of whatever race, or in whatever situation. The negro delights in relating the wonders or the rogueries they perform, and the saying, "that monkeys could talk if they liked, only they are afraid white men would make them work if they did," is everywhere to be heard among the more indolent inhabitants of the tropics. English men, women, and children, resemble their black brethren; and there is yet another feeling, in which the most savage and the most refined seem to agree: it is the dislike or mortification, call it which you will, that we feel in seeing how nearly they resemble ourselves. There was a restless, tormenting, agile creature on board a vessel in which I sailed up the African river, who was incessantly teasing and hovering about me. If I called another, he was sure to leap across the deck and come to perform that which the other would have done much better. I never thought myself quite alone, but this fellow's head was sure to start from some unexpected corner; and one day, wearied with his officiousness, I perceived our black monkey sitting opposite to us, and said to him, "Rapoynda, that is your brother." Kind words, presents, naught availed me afterward, for I was never forgiven; the same feeling might be traced in a very different form, when a friend of mine pulled me away from the contemplation of Landseer's admirable picture, exclaiming, "How can you look at that so long. Such things ought never to have been made, and I am sure ought never to have been painted." I obeyed, but the recollection of Rapoynda flashed across me.

After this, I will not apologize for intruding an old ship-companion of mine on your notice, although he belongs to the never-failing theme of monkeys. He was a native of the Gold Coast, and was of the Diana species (Simia Diana). He had been purchased by the cook of the vessel in which I sailed from Africa, and was considered his exclusive property. Jack's place was then close to the caboose, but as his education progressed he was gradually allowed an increase of liberty, till, at last, he enjoyed the range of the whole ship, except the cabin. I had embarked with more than a mere womanly aversion to monkeys, it was absolute antipathy; and, although I often laughed at Jack's freaks, still I kept out of his way, till a circumstance brought with it a closer acquaintance, and cured me of my dislike. Our latitude was three degrees south, and we only proceeded by occasional tornadoes, the intervals of which were filled up with dead calms and bright weather. When these occurred during the day, the helm was frequently lashed, and all the watch went below. On one of these occasions, I was sitting alone on the deck, and reading intently, when, in an instant, something jumped upon my shoulders, twisted its tail round my neck, and screamed close to my ear. My immediate conviction that it was Jack scarcely relieved me; but there was no help: I dared not cry for assistance, because I was afraid of him, and dared not obey the next influence, which was to thump him off, for the same reason; I, therefore, became civil from necessity, and from that moment Jack and I entered into an alliance. He gradually loosened his hold, looked at my face, examined my hands and rings with the most minute attention, and took the biscuit which lay by my side.

When I liked him well enough to profit by his friendship, he became a constant source of amusement. Like all nautical monkeys, he was fond of pulling off men's caps as they slept, and throwing them into the sea; of knocking over the parrots' cages, to drink the water as it trickled along the deck, regardless of the occasional gripe he received; of taking the dried herbs out of the tin mugs in which the men were making tea of them; of dexterously picking out the pieces of biscuit which were toasting between the bars of the grate; of stealing the carpenter's tools; in short, of teasing everything and everybody: but he was also a first-rate equestrian. Whenever the pigs were let out to take a run on deck, he took his station behind a cask, whence he leaped on the back of one of his steeds as it passed. Of course the speed was increased, and the nails he stuck in to keep himself on, produced a squeaking; but Jack was never thrown, and became so fond of the exercise, that he was obliged to be shut up whenever the pigs were at liberty.

Confinement was the worst punishment he could receive, and whenever threatened with that, or any other, he would cling to me for protection. At night, when about to be sent to bed, in an empty hen-coop, he generally hid himself under my shawl, and at last never suffered any one but myself to put him to rest. He was particularly

and put two out of his way. The first feat of this kind was performed in my presence: he began by holding out his paw, and making a squeaking noise, which the other evidently considered as an invitation; the poor little thing crouched to him most humbly, but Jack seized him by the neck, hopped off to the side of the vessel, and threw him into the sea. We cast out a rope immediately, but the monkey was too much frightened to cling to it, and we were going too fast to save him by any other means. Of course Jack was flogged and scolded, at which he was very penitent; but the deceitful rogue, at the end of three days, sent another victim to the same destiny. But his spite against his own race was manifested at another time in a very original way. The men had been painting the ship's side with a streak of white, and upon being summoned to dinner, left their brushes and paint on deck. Unknown to Jack, I was seated behind the companiondoor, and saw the whole transaction; he called a little black monkey to him, who. like the others, immediately crouched to his superior, when he seized him by the nape of the neck with one paw, took the brush, dripping with paint, with the other, and covered him with white from head to foot. Both the man at the helm and myself burst into a laugh, upon which Jack dropped his victim, and scampered up the rigging. The unhappy little beast began licking himself, but I called the steward, who washed him so well with turpentine that all injury was prevented; but during our bustle Jack was peeping with his black nose through the bars of the main-top, apparently enjoying the confusion. For three days he persisted in remaining aloft; no one could catch him, he darted with such rapidity from rope to rope; at length, impelled by hunger, he dropped unexpectedly from some height on my knees, as if for refuge, and as he had thus confided in me, I could not deliver him up to punishment.

The only way in which I could control his tricks, was by showing him to the panther on board, which excited his fears very strongly. I used to hold him up by his tail, and the instant he saw the panther, he would become perfectly stiff, shut his eyes, and pretend to be dead. When I moved away he would relax his limbs, and open one eye very cautiously, but if he caught a glimpse of the panther's cage, the eyes were quickly closed, and he resumed the rigidity of death. After four months' sojourn together, I quitted Jack off the Scilly Islands, and understood that I was much regretted.

THE FINEST GENTLEMAN IN EUROPE." MR. THACKERAY, in "The Four Georges," in the Cornhill Magazine, thus sketches George the Fourth :

To make a portrait of him at first seemed a matter of small difficulty, There is his coat, his star, his wig, his countenance simpering under it: with a slate and a piece of chalk, I could at this very desk perform a recognizable likeness of him. And yet, after reading of him in scores of volumes, hunting him through old magazines and newspapers, having him here at a ball, there at a public dinner, there at races and so forth, you find you have nothing-nothing but a coat and a wig and a mask smiling below it-nothing but a great simulacrum. His sires and grandsires were men One knows what they were like; what they would do in given circumstances; that on occasion they fought and demeaned themselves like tough good soldiers. They had friends whom they liked according to their natures; enemies whom they hated fiercely; passions and actions, and individualities of their own.

The sailor king who came after George was a man; the Duke of York was a man, big, burly, loud, jolly, cursing, courageous. But this George, what was he? I look through all his life, and recognize but a bow and a grin. I try and take him to pieces, and find silk stockings, padding, stays, a coat with frogs and a fur collar, a star and blue ribbon, a pocket-handkerchief prodigiously scented, one of Truefitt's best nutty brown wigs reeking with oil, a set of teeth and a huge black stock, underwaistcoats, more under waistcoats, and then nothing. I know of no sentiment that he ever distinctly uttered. Documents are published under his name, but people wrote them--private letters, but people spelt them. He put a great George P. or George R. at the bottom of the page and fancied he had written the paper; some bookseller's clerk, some poor author, some mon did the work, saw to the spelling, cleaned up the slovenly sentences, and gave the lax maudlin slipslop a sort of consistency. He must have had an individuality; the dancing-master whom he emulated, nay, surpassed-the wig-maker who curled his toupee for him-the tailor who cut his coats, had that. But, about George, oue can get at nothing actual. That outside, I am certain, is pad and tailor's work; there may be something behind, but what? We cannot get at the character; no doubt never shall. Will men of the future have nothing better to do

than to unswathe and interpret that royal old mummy? I own I once used to think it would be good sport to pursue him, fasten on him. and pull him down. But now I am ashamed to mount and lay good dogs on, to summon a full field, and then to hunt poor game.

race.

A ROMANCE ABOUT GARIBALDI.

A bit of romance about Garibaldi may help to explain the hostility of the Dictator of the Two Sicilies to France, and that of the Emperor of the French towards the Liberator of Italy (says the Athenæum):— THE family of Garibaldi, like the family of Bonaparte, is Corsican; and the name of Pozzo di Borgo or of Louis Blanc is evidence with what fiery hate a Corsican may pursue his vendetta against that lucky The Dictator's grandfather, Joseph Battista Maria Garibaldi, was one of those patriot Corsicans who gave the crown to Count Von Neuhoff, crowned Theodore the First of Corsica, and being sent by the new king on a message to his mother, Madame Von Neuhoff, who lived at Peddenoh, near Ruggeburg, in the Mark Country, (now part of Westphalia), Garibaldi there fell in love with the King's sister, Catherina Amalie, and with his sovereign's consent married her. The registry of this marriage, we read in a Rhine paper, is still to be seen at Ruggeberg. In the same year Garibaldi took Catherina home to Ajaccio; but fortune failing the patriot, Theodore fled before the Genoese to England, where he became the idol and butt of Walpole, who traduced his character, and wrote the inscription over his monu'ment in St. Anne's Church-bewailing the fortune, which

Bestowed a kingdom and denied him bread.

Joseph Battista Maria Garibaldi fled from Corsica to Nice, where after the French conquest and occupation of the island put an end to the last hopes of independence, he forgot politics and practised as a physician. His grandson is the Dictator. Meanwhile, the offences of the Bonapartes against the Garibaldi have grown in bulk and in atrocity. Corsica has been made French. Nice has now been made French. The old country, the new country, are alike gone. More, the very last home of the hero is menaced. Caprera, the lonely green rock in the Straits of Bonifacio, which he has bought with his gains, and peopled with his pigs and asses, belongs to the island of Sardinia, and must follow its path should a new recovery" of territory to France take place. Thus, the Bonapartes seem to chase the Garibaldi like an evil fate, leaving them no foot of earth on which the soles of their feet can rest in peace. Who can wonder at the Dictator's doubt, suspicion, and dislike?

A romantic speculation may be allowed to close the record of these romantic facts. Theodore, King of Corsica, left no lawful son. An illegitimate son, known about London streets as Colonel Frederic, a man of mark in his day, pistolled himself under one of the porches of Westminster Abbey. The title had been declared by the Corsican Parliament hereditary in Theodore's family, a near branch of which Dictator Garibaldi now represents. Thus, Garibaldi's title to the throne of Corsica is just as good as that of Louis Napoleon was a dozen years ago to the throne of France. Suppose the Italian "idea" should dawn at Ajaccio? There are pretenders to crowns who have no better claim from history, and far less from merit and service, than Joseph Garibaldi, the Dictator of the Two Sicilies.

* In modern times, Corsica, an island in the Mediterranean Sea, was nominally dependent upon Genoa until 1768, when it was ceded to France. During its revolt it was erected into a kingdom under Theodore, its first and only king, 1736. He came to England, where he was imprisoned in the King's Bench Prison for debt, and for many years subsisted on the benevolence of private friends. Having been released by an act of insolvency in 1756, he gave in his schedule the kingdom of Corsica as an estate to his creditors, and died the same year at his lodgings in Soho, London. The Earl of Oxford wrote the following epitaph, on a tablet near his grave, in St. Anne's Church, Dean Street, London :

"The grave, great teacher! to a level brings
Heroes and beggars, galley-slaves and kings.
But Theodore this moral learn'd ere dead;
Fate pour'd its lesson on his living head,
Bestow'd a kingdom and denied him bread."

THERE is only one thing more powerful than a steam engine, and that is fashion. Fashion rules the women, the women rule the men, the men rule the world, ergo, fashion is more powerful than all influences combined.

LONDON