sleeves are finished with a shaped wristlet ; and a pretty variety is effected in their form by the fulness being plaited under a narrow band, fixed at the middle of the lower arm; round this band is tied an ornamental cord, from which depends two tassels; the wristlets button with ornamental green buttons, and the pocketholes are defined on the skirt by bands of moire, on which are put ornamental buttons, and they are finished by tassels and cords. Belt a gros grains and green satin bands-no buckle. Brodequins of green cachemire and morocco. Ruche of tulle.

CHILD'S DRESS.-This dress is seen when little girls accompany their mothers to concerts or the theatre: the dress is a frock and trowsers of white merino or bombazin. Over this is put an open skirt of moire; coloured satin cachemire; round the neck is tied a deep full cape, reaching below the elbows, of the same material. The whole is trimmed with swansdown. The hat held by the child is a variation of the chapeau bibis: the crown is formed of flat folds; it has a barolet or curtain, and is made of white moire, lined with pink plush.

221. BALL DRESS.-Hair in Madonna bands, perfectly plain on the brow; on the crown it is arranged in three light bows, beneath which are placed five bows or loops of violet velvet, fastened in front with a rich agraffe; a violet velvet cord crosses the brow with one large unset pearl bead by way of ferroniere. This singular but most elegant costume was invented by the Princess Maria d'Orleans. The dress is a revers of violet velvet, trimmed with blonde, cut so as to depend very low on the soulders. This is put over a corsage and sleeves of white satin, which is finished on the bust with flat folds of the same. In the centre of the bust is a fan-like ornament of violet velvet; at the back is the same. Sometimes the corsage has but white satin between the revers. The belt is very broad, of violet velvet, without either buckle or bow. The skirt is of white India muslin over white satin; the hem is only defined by the stitches. The handkerchief, with a broad hem, is elaborately worked at the corners. The gloves finished with dents at the elbow. Girandole earrings, and necklace of pearls and gold.

MADAME LEONTINE DE

Paris, my dear Lady Anne, has once more become the Paris you formerly loved, and promises, this winter, to rival the most brilliant years of the Restoration. Families of high rank and great wealth, who have gloomily secluded themselves during the last two years, have re-appeared on the gay scene of the fashionable world; either because they are tired of the dull routine of their distant chateaux, or because they are forming some combination against the government of Louis Philippe. The thoroughbred aristocracy are again in the Parisian world, from whatever cause it may spring. The advantage arising to our discontented and distressed artisans is great, and the metropolis of fashion already wears a different aspect: the great appear more magnificently, and the poor livelier and happier, although wars and rumours of wars threaten around. At present, the Opera and spectacles are the chief places of resort for the restored elite of fashion, as balls and soirees have scarcely yet commenced; yet, if you glance round the assembled circle, I will undertake to affirm, you will behold more truly distinguished personages than have been scen together since the high-spirited

TO LADY ANNE C—.

son.

Caroline was forced to resign the sceptre of fashion for the determined struggle her single energies strove to maintain for her Alas, alas!" the age of chivalry is over! Why not also the age of war?" How atrocious is the one without the other! Even his worst enemies must allow that Louis Philippe is not a weak-minded man, easily startled at trifles; and the sedulous hunt that has been made by his government for the daring and lofty-minded Duchesse de Berri, would lead one to imagine her efforts were more dangerous than the world are ready to believe. Scarcely an English lady could land in France from Jersey or Guernsey, but she was seized and held in durance for some days, under suspicion of being this formidable leader of anti-revolutions. Be she fair or dark, tall or short, still, in the eyes of douaniers and coast-guards, she is the omni-present Caroline de Berri, whose escapes and adventures, if historical romances are in fashion in 1932, will form the groundwork of as many romances as the history of Charles Edward, after the battle of Culloden. While I yet write, the news is confirmed that she is taken. Happily for her, ladies may do as they please in

the nineteenth century. The axe of Mary of Scotland, the darker guillotine of the lovely Marie-Antoinette or the angelic Madame Elizabeth, need not be dreaded for the enterprising Caroline. People pretend to smile at her undertaking as Quixotic, but I firmly believe a great party is secretly combined for her: any one may see that, who reads the higher French periodicals.

It is

All these things are materials for future romance. I must not name historical romances without recommending to you the magnificent work of Madame la Duchesse d'Abrantes, who, after surprising the Parisian public by her lively" Memoirs of the Court of Napoleon," has issued this year, L'Amirante de Castile, a composition considered at present the pride of the romantic school. founded on the stormy struggles that shook the already enfeebled kingdom of Spain, when the imbecile Carlos the Second, who was childless, passed his short life in making and unmaking the will that was to decide the succession to the crown of Spain. One of the finest scenes is founded on the descent of the maniac King into the royal vault of the Escurial, to visit the grave of Louise, his murdered queen, who, you remember, was grand-daughter to your Charles the First. History says that he opened the coffin and kissed the corpse; but the Duchesse, with true taste, keeps in the background all that is hideous. The appearance of this romance is happy, when all thoughts are turned to the succession of Spain, and the illness of its King. The extraordinary change that is taking place in the government of Spain, under the auspices of the young queen, has filled the minds of all men with wonder; nor do the Parisian papers scruple to affirm that Ferdinand is really dead, and that his death is concealed till after the accouchement of the young queen. Hence this singular change. Do not you remember, in the History of the Turks, how one of the Sultans, Amurath the First, who died of a wound at Cassova, some days after the battle was taken out a corpse in his litter, dressed in his robes of state, and, when the troops saluted their sovereign, a little page, hid beneath his robe, raised the arm of the dead Sultan, and made it stroke his white beard, his usual action of courtesy to his army. This farce was played for some days by the Bassas in the interest of his successor, till he arrived from a distant province, lest the janissaries should mutiny, and declare a younger Prince the heir of the Ottoman throne. Such are the scenes of history. We will now turn to the drama. Who will deny that genius is at once beauty and immortal youth: let them see Mademoiselle Mars, whose debut was in 1808, act the character of "Clotilde," the heroine of the tragedy of that name, now

performing with grand success in Paris. I need not detail the plot, for it is founded on the same story as Milman's drama of Fazio, which is in the same volume as the "Siege of Jerusalem," ," "Anne boleyn," and other high-souled poesies which we have conned many a time and oft, sitting like Hermia and Helena, at that blest time when we "took sweet counsel together." Heigho! -why does girlhood pass, and husbands come? You have a Miss Wright, I hear, a belle, a blue, and a beauty, lecturing against marriage, either in England or America, I forget which, at least, she speaks in English. Pray heaven, that she induces some of your island beauties to become vowed vestals-a sort of Protestant nuns; walking tame in and out of drawing-rooms, studying the most demure and becoming fashions, and plaguing their lovers to their heart's content. Then will the vile days of husband-hunting cease, and the age of chivalry return, at least, the age of Sir Charles Grandison, with long courtships and deep adoration. I wish-but alas! I am married; and so good and excellent is this Lord of mine, that I really cannot have the heart to torment him; he seems so happily secure of my heart, because my principles will not permit me to attract the admiration of other men, that he does not understand me when I choose to flirt with him. I suppose you have been long enough among those island fogs of yours, to make an alarmed face at the use of that innocent and much abused word flirt. Why, child, it is the only word which you have in your language to express the art of femininely pleasing. It is really very sad that few married women choose to flirt with their own husbands: if they flirt at all, it is with those of other people, and that is scandalous. Really, it is very perverse, that ladies consider the art of pleasing as nothing, when it is of such vital importance to themselves that they should become skilled in it. Is it not this neglect that makes matrimony a state of hopeless dullness ? You have an old poet (you know how deeply read I am in English) that has written a drama on this subject, from which I recollect the following verses, beginning— "Ye fair, take the Cestus, and practice its power."

"Thence flows the gay chat more than wisdom that charms

"The eloquent blush that can beauty improve, "The fond sigh, the bright smile, the soft touch that alarms,

"The piquant disdain-the renewal of love; "Tis this gives the eyes all their magic and fire."

But where am I wandering to? Here is a digression that a chattering pen has led me into, when my subject was Mademoiselle

Mars and her part of Clotilde: well, Clotilde is a forsaken wife, urged to madness by the infidelity of her lord So admirable is the delineation of the agonising passions of rage and jealousy, that all Paris has received a sensation; and, when this is the case, all the modes adopt the name of the character, and the costume in which it was performed. Now, we have the Marguerites de Clotilde as the most fashionable ornament for the hair; but I know that Mademoiselle Mars had natural flowers in her hair, for I saw them droop before the part was ended. Several dramas have been founded on the life and death of the Duc de Reichstadt: none, as you may suppose, have had any particular success. How could they, when the subject was so little scenical? The French complain as much of the scarcity of genuine comedy as your London critics: they declare that a printed drama is now little more than the libretto of the Opera. The brother and sister-in-law of the sylphide Taglioni, have made their debut in the ballet. The theatrical critics say, that all artists whose relatives have gained wonderful celebrity, should change their names, to obtain any chance of a just appreciation of skill from the public. The Parisians declare the brother to be an extraordinary jumper, and shrug their shoulders at his young wife, en revanche. THE Taglioni herself is found more adorable than ever; and the modes, those barometers of every thing Parisian, reflect her name and talents in all articles of dress-caps, gauzes, ribbon knots, are all sylphe or sylphide.

A trial in France has excited great interest in the theatrical world. Madame Saqui has two dwarfs of distinguished beauty and talents. The little Marie has attained her seventeenth year this summer: she is just thirty inches in height; she is formed with the most perfect symmetry, is the complete miniature of a beauty, and has all the tournure of a woman of fashion. She wears a chapeau bibis of sky blue over her fair curls, and carries a lace scarf with the utmost grace and coquetry. Her brother Charles is not so tall, and is younger by a year; he wears a little uniform of grey casimir, and shows great talent and vivacity.

These little people, when performing, were supposed to be natives of Lapland till very lately, when they were claimed by M. Leporati, a watchmaker of Parma, as his children. He deposed, before the Tribunal of Paris, that Madame Saqui was performing at Parma when he brought Marie to her, then aged eight years, but remarkable for the minuteness of her size, and the regularity of her features. He offered Madame Saqui the charge of his child if she would educate her in her profession. On this condition Marie was bound to her

for eight years; but it was stipulated that if the child should become attached to Madame Saqui, and at the end of her indenture be willing to stay, Madame Saqui should be permitted to retain her for three or four years longer; and a similar agreement was entered into verbally for the little Charles.

Madame Saqui faithfully observed the term of this engagement, and not only gave the children their education, but remitted to the parents many large sums of money which they had gained by their performances. When the indenture expired in 1831, Leporati insisted on his children being restored to him, though Madame Saqui, who has none of her own, offered to adopt them, and leave them the large fortune she has gained by her profession; but the father insisted on a large yearly sum, more than the little creatures could earn, even if they were tasked beyond their strength, which Madame Saqui is desirous to avert, as she has always had great regard to their health in the exercise of their profession. The children are exceedingly attached to her, and refuse to be separated from her with tears and lamentations.

While the jury were deliberating on the justice of these claims, the gentlemen of the bar present were amusing themselves with conversing with the little Marie, and were greatly delighted at hearing the liveliness of her answers, and observing her beauty and gracefulness of carriage, and all the sprightly coquetries of the little creature. Every one considered the brother and sister as the most extraordinary phenomena of the present day.

The tribunal gave its decision that Mad. Saqui should restore the children to Leporati within twenty-four hours of the judgment, or pay him fifty francs damage for every day of their detention.

When this sentence was pronounced the little Marie clung weeping about her protectress' neck, and could only be separated by force. Madame Saqui seemed overwhelmed with grief.

I have now to thank you for the English Annuals forwarded to me. The "Keepsake" and the "Souvenir" are both exquisite, far superior to anything of which we can boast. Edmund Paris's beautiful "Bridesmaid," illustrated by Miss Agnes Strickland, is the gem and glory of the English annuals. I am a great admirer of the sweet portrait that forms the frontispiece of the "Keepsake" it is in Chalon's best style, and is exquisitely engraved; but my Parisian friends turn away their eyes in horror from the large bonnet, as if it had been presented as a fashion for their adoption by their beloved La Follet in the very acme of small bonnets. I think the figure pretty enough to revive the mode of enormous chapeaux. Next to

BIRTHS.

On the 7th of November, in Whitehallplace, Lady Henley, of a son.-Nov. 5, in Sackville-street, Viscountess Valletort, of a son and heir.-Nov. 1, at Letcombe, near Wantage, the Lady of the Rev. W. H. Wilkinson, of a daughter.-Nov. 6, the Lady of G. Lee, of Well Hall, Eltham, Kent. Esq., of a son.-Nov. 5, at Mereworth, the Hon. Lady Stapleton, of twin daughters.- Nov. 9, at Walton Rectory, the Lady of the Rev. Lord John Thynne, of a son.-Nov. 11, in Hamilton-place, the Countess Gower, of a son. Nov. 7, at Ludlow, Shropshire, the Lady of Allan J. Nightingale, Esq., Assistant Commissary-General, of a son.-Nov. 5, at Geneva, the Lady of C. Vernet, Esq., of a son.-Nov. 13, in South Audley-street, the Lady of Lieut.-Col Knollys, Scotch Fusileer Guards, of a son.-Nov. 12, at Wenvoe Castle, Glamorganshire, the Lady of R. F. Jen. ner, Esq., of a daughter.-Nov. 9, the Lady of J. Dunlap, Esq., M.D., of Baker-street, Portman-square, of a son, still-born.-Nov. 13, at Windsor Castle, Lady Sydney, of a still-born infant.-Nov. 21, the Viscountess Turnour, of a daughter.-Nov. 5, at Gadlys, near Beaumaris, the Lady of O Owens, Esq, of a son and heir.-Nov. 21, in Hertfordstreet, the Lady of Sir Culling E. Smith, of a daughter.-Nov. 20, at East Walton Vicarage, the wife of the Rev. George Coldham, of a daughter.-Nov. 18, at Walton-on-Thames, the Lady of the Rev. C. C. Barton, of a son. -Nov. 17, at the Ray, Maidenhead, Lady Phillimore, of a daughter.-Nov. 18, at Thurston, Suffolk, the Lady of C. T. Oakes, Esq, of a daughter.-Nov. 19, in Gloucester-place, Edinburgh, Mrs. C. Earle, of a son.-Nov. 17, in Park Crescent, Worthing, the Lady of the Rev. Charles Griffith, M A., of a son.

MARRIAGES.

On the 1st of Nov., at the Palace, Valetta, Robert Anstruther, Esq., of Thirdpart, Fife, Major in the 73d Regt., to Louisa, youngest daughter of Sir H. Elphinstone, Bart., of Are Place, Sussex.-Oct. 29, at Itchen Abbas, Hants, Hugh, son of Archdeacon Berners, of Wolverstone Park, Suffolk, to Alice, youngest daughter of the late John Ashton, Esq., of the Grange, Cheshire.-At St. James's Church, Bury, Mr. C. Newson, to Miss C. Murrell. The bride and bridegroom belonged to an exhibition in the fair, and the very singular spectacle was presented of a bride who had neither hands nor arms! The difficult ceremony of the ring was obviated by placing the magic gold upon the fourth toe of the left foot.Nov. 9, Mr. R. Pringle, late of Perth, to Miss Anne Lemon, of London.-November 10, at Brighton, by the Rev. E. Repton, Chaplain to the House of Commons, Charles C. Martyn, Esq., to Maria Georginia, third daughter of the late John Elliot, Esq., of Pimlico Lodge. -Nov. 14, at St. George's, Hanover-square, the Hon. T. Fitz-Walter Butler, eldest son of Lord Dunboyne, to Julia, second daughter of the late W. Brander, Esq., of Morden Hall, VOL. I.-No. 6.

county of Surrey.-Nov. 14, at St. Clement Danes, Lieut. Edmund H. F. Denman, of the Madras Artillery, to Miss Ann Hall, of Floraplace, Plymouth.-Nov. 14, at Bloomsbury Church, the Rev. Richard Bellamy, to Mary, youngest daughter of Edward Vaux, Esq., of Upper Montague-street, Russell-square. Nov. 13, at St. Pancras New Church, J. W. Deacon, Esq., eldest son of J. J. Deacon, Esq., of Ulster-place, Regent's Park, to Esther Elizabeth, eldest daughter of T. Greenwood, Esq., Cumberland-place, Regent's Park.Nov. 17, at St. George's Church, Hanoversquare, the Hon. G. L. Massey, third son of the late Major-Gen. Lord Clarina, to Rebecca Anne, widow of the late J. Cann, Esq., of Haverill House, Herefordshire.-Nov. 13, at Clapham Church, E. Rogers, Esq., M.P., to Eliza Cassamajor Brown, daughter of the late H. Brown, Esq., of the Madras Civil Service. -Nov. 20, at St. Marylebone Church, John Donne, Esq., of Powis-place, Queen-square, to Sophia, fourth daughter of the late Rev. R. Thompson, LL.D., of Long Howe Hall, Cambridgeshire.-Nov. 21, John Fitzgerald, Esq., eldest son of John Fitzgerald, Esq., M.P., of Wherstead Lodge, Suffolk, to Augusta March, only daughter of C. M. Phillips, Esq., M.P., of Garendon Park.

DEATHS.

On the 4th of Nov. at his house, in Russellsquare, in his 71st year, the Right Hon. Chas. Lord Tenterden, Lord Chief Justice of his Majesty's Court of King's Bench.-Nov. 3, at Coates, Fifeshire, Sir J. Leslie, Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh.-Oct. 31, at Torquay, Devonshire, in his 33d year, T. Keeling, Esq., of the Island of St. Bartholomew, and late of Mornington Crescent, Hampstead Road.-Nov. 13, at Ilfracombe, M. Bowman, Esq., Surgeon, of Harley-street, Cavendish-square, aged 67. -Nov. 13, at Belgrave-square, Letitia, wife of Vice-Admiral Sir C. Ogle, Bart.-Nov. 8, at Blenkinsopp, Northumberland, the seat of Col. Coulson, Hannah, relict of the late Rev. E. Dawkins, of Portman-square.-Nov. 11, at Brighton, in his 48th year, H. A. Broughton, Esq., of Great Marlborough-street.-Nov. 9, in Charlotte-street, Portland Place, in his 73d year, Lieut.-Col. R. Broughton, of the Hon. East India Company's Service.-Nov. 16, at Bishopsthorpe Palace, York, Lady Anne Vernon Harcourt, Lady of his Grace the Archbishop of York, in her 71st year.- Nov. 14, at Brighton, the Right Hon. Lady Stafford.-Nov. 16, at Oak Bank, near Sevenoaks, the Right Hon. Catherine Anne, Countess of Aboyne, in her 61st year.-Nov. 15, at his house, in Exeter Buildings, Cheltenham, in his 67th year, Rear Admiral William Cumberland, youngest son of the late Richard Cumberland,-Nov. 10, the Rev. R. Berthomier, thirty-five years Professor of the French Language at Eton, in his 75th year.-Nov. 18, of apoplexy, A. A. Miles, Esq., late Accountant of the London Assurance.