of her affection, and do all that depends on her to keep him from future possible peril of the sort; and that the young lady's mamma will allow her daughter to let the conversation drop sometimes, in preference to frightening innocent people by such alarming recitals.

Here is another word of advice to young ladies one of the belles of society, the extraordinary smallness of whose waist was an object of admiration to some, of pity to others, and of wonder to all, lately fell into delicate health; no one could tell exactly what was the matter; but after becoming paler and paler, and more and more ill, she died, without any satisfactory reason being given. After death an examination was made, and it was discovered that three of

her ribs had actually entered the liver. This is paying somewhat dear for a small waist.

Did you ever feel an interest in that mysterious personage whose identity has never been, and I suppose never will be clearly proved, Í mean the Masque de Fer? I heard the other day that he lies buried in the church of St. Paul, rue St. Antoine, which is near where the Bastille was; he was buried the 20th November, 1703, under the name of Marchiali.

But my letter is unconscionably long, and
you must be weary of my Gossip.
So adieu, my dear C.,
Always yours, faithfully,
P

OUR CONSERVATORY.

BOOKS IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. myself from the keen and icy wind. The rest -I had but few books now; and I did now and came toiling slowly up, assisted by the guides; then send for one or two to London. My sister and just as day began to break, the whole body being there would get them for me; and I sent were assembled at the summit of Etna. The to her to get Alting his Common Places. They guides had timed the thing exactly. It was bewere bought in London, of the first edition in two tween three and four; the stars were rapidly volumes, and she sent them down by a carter of disappearing from the paling sky, while the our town that was at London; and she very un- eastern horizon began to faintly redden with the warily put a deal of sugar in the other end of the dawn. Those who have never witnessed, can bag with them. The carter let wet come to scarcely realize by any description the strangethem, and the sugar melted and spoiled the ness of such a scene. Everything in the vast books sadly. They carry the marks of this gulf below was dark and formless-the sea fondness of mine towards them to this day. barely distinguishable from the land - vast Another time I sent to my brother Thomas to whitish clouds like wool-sacks floating solemnly get Cameron and Ainsworth bought. He sent above it. A few bars of crimson soon appeared me word he had bought them, and sent them on the eastward horizon, the sea-line became down by the carrier. When the carrier came defined, the jagged edges of the distant moundown, he had them not. I wrote of the non- tains of Apulia cut against the sky. At this reception of them. He was much troubled; moment our guides shouted to us to stand up and the carrier did not remember he had them on the edge of the crater, and look out over the from him, and so I was a good while in thoughts interior of the island, which stretched away to that they were lost. And so when I had been the westward like a sea of rugged summits, pretty well exercised with those thoughts, Mr. blended in the shadowy miet of dawn. Just as Wroe of Macclesfield came to me, and told me the sun rose, an immense shadow of the most that amongst goods of his he found a bundle exquisite purple was projected from the volcano like a book or two directed unto me; and so I half over the island, while without its range the received them at the last, the carrier in haste light struck with magic suddenness upon the packing them up amongst his goods. Another tops of the mountains below-a phenomenon so time I sent to him to buy me Amesius's Medulla admirably beautiful that it would have more and Valdesso. My dear cousin Fenton was then than repaid us for the labour of the ascent. The in London, and he bought the books for me, wind had now become so violent and penebut took Valdesso to read. It pleased God he trating, that not one of us was able to make the shortly died, and the book was never had; and circuit of the crater, or indeed to stand up to so they still came either almost lost, or spoiled, windward for more than a few moments toge or by halves, home to me.-Autobiography of ther. The crater, however, so far as we could Henry Newcome. observe, is not in itself by any means so striking as that of Vesuvius. All the top of the mountain is heated, and little jets of steam shot up at intervals from the crevices of the yellow-crusted sulphur. The view from Etna proved rather different from what previous descriptions had led me to anticipate. Vastness and dreary sublimity predominate, relieved with some few touches of exquisite beauty. Standing on the dread summit of the volcano, the eye takes in with astonishment the immense extent of the

ETNA AT SUNRISE.-As we drew nearer the summit, at every few steps we were obliged to halt for breath, and plant our feet more firmly in the ashy soil, or avail ourselves of a projecting lump of sulphur to gain a safer foothold. There was an evident struggle who should get first to the top for my own part, I reached it about the midst of the party, and, fairly exhausted with fatigue, dropped down full length on the crusted sulphur a little below the cone, so as to shelter

region, at once desolated and fertilized by its eruptions. Wide beds of lava-black, abrupt, and horrid-may be traced down its deep sinuosities and chasms, winding half-concealed among the extensive forests below, even through the midst of the fertile region which reposes at its base, until they pour into the sea; and interspersed with these are broad dismal beds of ashes and scoria-the seat of eternal desolation. Beneath the Bosco, and around the base of Etna, the boundary of the region subject to its effects may be distinctly traced. Beyond, in all directions, extend the fertile plains and mountains of the island, the latter, however, of an aspect little less wild and desolate than that of Etna itself. The range of the view is almost boundless-Catania, Syracuse, and even, when clear, Malta itself are visible. Castro Giovanni stands up on its rock, conspicuous in the centre of the island. The expanse of sea is most magnificent, with the distant mountains of Calabria and Apulia, and the entrance to the Faro di Messina.-Pictures from Sicily.

**

square, which was founded by the poor French exiles of the early part of the Revolution. The apartments of the Duchess of Angoulême were contiguous to the_muniment-room, which was occupied by the Count and Countess of Damas, the faithful attendants of the duchess. The aged mother of the Countess, the Duchess de Serent, had allotted to her a small chamber, on the opposite side, near that of her daughter. In this house, and in the outbuildings, one hundred and forty persons were quartered. The number, including visitors, often exceeded two hundred. "So numerous a party required such extensive accommodations, that the halls, gallery, and larger apartments were ingeniously divided and subdivided into suites of rooms and closets, in some instances to the great disorder and confusion of the mansion. Every hothouse, and each of the ornamental buildings in the park that could be rendered capable of decent shelter, were densely occupied; and it was curious to see how the second and third class stowed themselves away in the attics of the LOUIS THE EIGHTEENTH AT HARTWELL. house, converting one room into several by the -Shortly after the Queen's death, the King adaptation of light partitions. On the ledges hired Hartwell Hall for the reception of himself and in the bows of the roof they formed garand suite. The house-the property then of dens, which were stocked with plants, shrubs, Sir George Lee-is situated on a gentle ascent and flowers, in boxes containing mould to the on the road between Oxford and Aylesbury. It depth of eighteen or twenty inches; and they is hidden from passers-by on the highway, by a moreover kept fowls and pigeons there, so that screen of superb trees, and it was nearly two the superstructure was thus loaded with many tenturies and a-half old when the King took extra tons of weight. But all was well conducted possession. The rent paid is said, by Alfred and cheerful throughout a residence of six or Nettement, the Bourbon biographer kar izoxy, seven years, and in the evenings there was much to have amounted to six hundred pounds mirth, music, and dancing kept up at the cottages sterling, yearly. The sum, however, was one around." Such is the description given by hundred less. The royal revenue amounted to Captain Smyth, in his " Edes Hartwelliana, six hundred thousand francs per annum (some printed for private circulation. The gallant twenty-four thousand pounds), granted by the and also learned captain further tells us that British government; but the King had almost these internal transformations were made withas many claimants upon it, and it was moreover out any fear of the law of landlord and tenant so charged with encumbrances, that, at the end being before the eyes of the thoughtless delinof the year, the King found himself little better quents, and with as little regard to the feelings than steward of a property, for the management and interests of the goodnatured proprietor, who of which he received little or no income. One saw new windows knocked into his walls, old hundred thousand francs (£4,000) were assigned fixtures displaced, and portions of the parapet to the Duke and Duchess of Angoulême; the balustrade ruthlessly removed, in obedience to like sum to the Archbishop of Rheims, for cha- some idle caprice that cared nothing for the act purposes; and a similar amount was con- committed to gratify it. There was more of the sumed in paying political emissaries. The balance, Goth than of the Gaul in the deed of that indiamounting to about £12,000, did not more than vidual who hung up a gigantic French lookingsuffice for the expenses of a household, where glass before the exquisite Lady Elizabeth the retainers, being poor, noble, and numerous, Lee," painted by "Sir Joshua." There was no had many wants that were costly of gratifica- face reflected in the mirror, half so beautiful as tion. To do the King justice, his liberality to the one concealed behind it. The bad taste was his faithful followers was of a spirit and quality indisputable. On each side of the porch that becoming a prince. Among the poor of the led into the house of the exiles there was to be place, and among the proscribed French exiles seen a fleur-de-lis in the old carving. The King who existed painfully near the capital, as well as smiled at the coincidence. A similar one, as I among the French prisoners of war, who lay shall have to notice later, was connected with the captive in our hulks and inland towns, the name stranger's tomb, which opened to receive the of the Duchess of Angoulême was hailed with body Charles X., who died in exile at Goritz. warm affection. Her charity was at once mu- Louis XVIII. led a very retired life at Hartwell; nificent and exercised with discretion. Occa- but he won a large amount of popularity. He sionally visits were made to the capital, not for was as affable as he was unostentatious, and pleasure's sake, but as pious pilgrimages to the would enter into conversation even with stranhumble little chapel in King-street, Portman-gers whom he casually met in his rare and brief

ritable

LITERATURE.

MUSIC.

AMUSEMENTS OF

THE OPERA AND THE THEATRES.

It is to be hoped that the circumstance of London again having but one Italian Opera will rot induce any degree of that carelessness in the management of which monopolists are very often accused. It must be owned no great novelty has yet been produced-or we believe announced as forthcoming-at COVENT GARDEN; still we are but in the early weeks of the season yet, and certainly several favourite operas have been given with great strength and suc"Masaniello," "Guillaume Tell," "L'Elisir d'Amore," and "Norma" for instance. In the last Grisi made her rentrée as the Druid Priestess, and was received with the enthusiasm which her unimpaired genius and untiring devotion to her art so justly merited. Speaking of the production of "Masaniello," a contemporary says:

cessful début, and divided the applause of the | take evidence; when Porthwaite gives an expublic with their old favourite, M. Lafont.

At the ADELPHI new pieces have been produced, and attractive old ones revived with such judgment, that there has been a constant change of performances. When we remember the strength of the theatrical company at this theatre, including as it does Messrs. Webster, Keeley, Leigh Murray, and Madame Celeste and Miss Woolgar, we cease to wonder at the admirable manner in which the lively pieces which are in vogue here are sustained. If we mistake not, Miss Woolgar has never appeared at any other London theatre, and consequently the alternate pathos and archness of her acting are less generally understood than they deserve to be. We recommend, however, that playgoers who have hitherto considered the Adelphi something "out of their way," should pay the theatre a visit, and judge for themselves of the talent which is there concentrated. Among the novelties lately produced was a farce by Mr. Morton, entitled A Desperate Game;" and we will quote the criticism of the Athenæum on it :

aggerated account of the dangers experienced and the extraordinary courage manifested by himself on the occasion. Ratcliffe, of course, encourages no hope of the recovery of the money; and Porthwaite, reflecting on the dowerless position of the widow, determines on relinquishing her hand. This he does by letter, when Ratcliffe takes advantage of the opportunity, and pleads his former acquaintance with Mrs. Somerton, during a continental tour-and which she is delighted to renew. He then confesses to her the whole stratagem. She is wil ling to believe that the desperate nature of the game which he has played is a proof of the earnestness of his pasion, and thus his object is attained. The farce, notwithstanding the monstrous improbability of its incidents, was eminently successful: this was partly owing to the force of the acting. Miss Woolgar in the scene of terror was remarkably fine; while Keeley, in his braggart vein, was truly the Falstaff of farce. Mr. Murray played throughout with great tact; and his transition from one character to the other was judiciously managed."

day" is announced for representation at the Robert Browning's play of "Colombe's BirthHAYMARKET just as we are going to press: the principal characters to be supported by Miss Helen Faucit and Mr. Sullivan,

MADEMOISELLE THEMAR'S CONCERT

The brilliant pianist and fine musician, Mademoiselle Rosalie Thémar, gave an evening concert at Willis's Rooms on the 11th ultimo, which was attended by a fashionable and discri minating audience. One attractive feature of the programme was a new piece, written expressly for this occasion by M. Jacques Herz "Nocturne, Promenade sur Mer," which was admirably executed by Mademoiselle Thémar; and her own grand valse, "Etincelles Electriques," elicited, if possible, still more enthusiastic applause. Hummel's concerto in A minor was magnificently played, and we must especially draw attention to M. Paque's performance on the violoncello, both in this concerto and in his own solo composition, a fantasia from Lucia di Lammermoor. Signor and Madame F. Lablache were among the vocalists, and sang their best. Nor must the contra-basso of Bottesini be forgotten. Altogether it was an admirable, well selected concert, and we congratulate Mademoiselle Thémar on her crowded room and appreciating audience.

"The scene is again laid at Tunbridge Wells; but the action is of the most uncommon, if not the most improbable kind. To its extravagance, however, the audience are indebted for the fun. They are also somewhat prepared for the nature of the plot by the title. The desperate lover is a Captain Ratcliffe (Mr. Leigh Murray); and his exploits in this drama remind us of the Ratcliffe Highway robberies of thirty years agofor the part of a housebreaker with formidable whiskers is that which, by the impulse of an irresistible passion, he is induced to play. The object of his venture is a Widow Somerton (Miss Woolgar), who has just received 15,000l. as her fortune. This we are to believe she has confided to no safer keeping than that of a writingdesk. She is affianced to a selfish and cowardly cousin, Mr. Peter Porthwaite (Mr. Keeley). To rid the lady of her suitor, it is necessary to deprive her of her fortune. While Mrs. Somerton is at a ball, Ratcliffe, disguised as we have described him, enters the house, and meeting there with Porthwaite, is compelled to lock him up in a small room while he makes a "desperate" attempt upon the writing-desk. Before he can succeed, the lady herself returns (it is about five o'clock in the morning), and encounters the supposed robber, who threatens her with a pair of pistols, and finally obtains from her the money-leaving what professes to be a receipt for the sum borrowed,' but which proves to be a copy of love-verses. Porthwaite, from his retreat, 'bechilled' almost to a jelly with the act of fear,' witnesses the whole transaction, without being disposed to This society held its second meeting this render any help even if he could; but, on the season at the Lecture Room in Edwards-street, departure of the hero, he comes forth valiantly Portman-square, on the 21st of April. The se enough, and proposes to fetch his friend Cap-lection (consisting altogether of nineteen pieces) tain Ratcliffe, who, he has learned, is just made did credit to the taste of the conductor, and the head of the county police. Ratcliffe accord- performance gave evident gratification to a ingly re-enters, minus his whiskers and other numerous and attentive assembly. Some welldisguises, in his new capacity, and proceeds to known masterpieces of the olden time nobly

CONCORDIA SOCIETY.