voice. Mr. Leslie makes a very good debut at this house, and will be a useful addition to the company. He wants an electrical spark to quicken his pulses, but he looks well in his costume, and plays in the disguise of a butcher's lad with much humour. Mr. Paulton has returned, and though we always feel as if we were assisting at a funeral oration whenever he speaks, he has admirers at the Alhambra who receive him with applause. His speech after running away from the troops is the best thing he does. There is no denying that the opera is dull in the extreme. Two or three good numbers, one after the manner of Offenbach, sung by Miss Alice May, one reminding us of MadameAngot, sung by Miss Loseby, and the scena already referred to, are all that are worth noting. The piece was not a success in Paris; it is therefore difficult to understand the management being successful which wilfully takes up a piece already received with just coldness by the city of Opera Bouffe. The fact of there being a barricade built up on the stage in sight of the audience will not make it a good piece any more than Mr. Boucicault's toy railway trains will elevate that contemptible drama Rescued to a place in stage literature.

At the Prince of Wales's the Bancrofts have produced Mr. Albery's version of Les Bourgeois de Pontarcy, under the title Duty, with a certain success. The piece is too evidently improbable,as no son would be so ridiculous when by a little aid from his experienced uncle he might arrange matters so easily, as regards his father's peccadilloes; but I am glad to see that Mr. Conway makes a distinct step upwards. Time is bringing him experience, and with experience more tenderness, and a power more earnest than he has shown as yet. It would be a pity,when Nature has been so bountiful in giving him good looks, if he neglected to force Art into giving him all other requirements. Miss Linda Dietz, as her acting at the Haymarket foretold, is very charming and intelligent. Mrs. John Wood brings all her love of fun and humour into play, and is decidedly the most remarkable among the excellent actors enlisted. Mr. Arthur Cecil as usual fills the character he plays with life and nature, and produces a picture not likely to be forgotten.

THESPIS.

THE HAUNTED WELL.

A LEGEND OF BRITTANY.

Cloisters of the lonely dead,
By the sea, by the sea.
Green trees waving overhead,
Priorie, Priorie.

Crumbling arches, ruin'd walls,
Mem'ry of the past recalls,
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

Stands a well of flint-stone grey,
By the sea, by the sea,
Hawthorn sweet and scented May,
Priorie, Priorie.

Apple pink, and snowy pear,

Blossom in an orchard fair,

By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

On the well shines out the cross,

By the sea, by the sea,
Sin forgiving and remorse :
Priorie, Priorie.

Lichen grey and ivy green

Seek the scars of Time to screen,

By the sea, by the sea,

Priorie.

Monks were chaunting midnight mass,

By the sea, by the sea,

When across the dewy grass,

Priorie, Priorie,

Gliding stealthily one came,

Bowed with sorrow and with shame.

By the sea, by the sea,

Priorie.

H H

In the shadow of the well,

By the sea, by the sea,

Chaste cold moonbeams on her fell,
Priorie, Priorie.

Wan and pale her lovely face,

Waits she at the trysting place
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

"O! wind, in the copse astir,"

By the sea, by the sea, "Is my true love far or near?" Priorie, Priorie.

"Brave men act where women weep,"

Alain swore his oath to keep.
By the sea, by the sea.
Priorie.

By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

Stooped his farewell kiss to take,

By the sea, by the sea.
Never word that lady spake,
Priorie, Priorie.

Clasped the collar of his hound,
Loose the dog broke with a bound,
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

Until set of sun they fought,
By the sea, by the sea,
Victory is dearly bought,
Priorie, Priorie.

In the field of buckwheat red,

Stabbed, the victor lieth dead,
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

His good hound doth wailing howl,
By the sea, by the sea.

Keeping watch with brooding growl,
Priorie, Priorie.

And by wild beast torn and slain
Lies his brother Sir Alain,

By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

Woe! woe! to Yvonne the Fair,
By the sea, by the sea,
Widow's coif hides yellow hair,
Priorie, Priorie.

Slowly winter wanes to spring;

Will Time peace and comfort bring?
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

Doth she mourn the brothers twain?

By the sea, by the sea,

Mourn her husband or Alain?

Priorie, Priorie.

Neath her veil the widow'd bride
Seeks her tear-stained face to hide,
By the sea, by the sea.
Priorie!

Monks are chaunting midnight mass
By the sea, by the sea,
Slowly o'er the dewy grass,
Priorie, Priorie,

Wearily a woman wends,
O'er a sleeping infant bends,
By the sea, by the sea.
Priorie.

Softly crooning "Lullaby!"
By the sea, by the sea.
"Lullaby! the well is nigh,

66

Priorie, Priorie,

'Lullaby-my baby, sleep,
Silent is the well and deep,"
By the sea, by the sea.
Priorie.

"Sleep, my baby, sleep," she sings,
By the sea, by the sea,
Then on high the bucket swings,
Priorie, Priorie.

Creaks the windlass, hark! a splash,
Moonbeams on a bright steel flash,
By the sea, by the sea,
Priorie.

"Alain sweet! Love's tryst I keep,"

By the sea, by the sea, "Silent is the well, and deep,"

Priorie, Priorie.

Near the copse of budding May,

Prone upon the earth she lay,
By the sca, by the sea,
Priorie.

Yellow tresses, drenched with dew,

By the sea, by the sea,