Esquimaux here lately, and they liked nothing, because they could get no train-oil for breakfast." Madame de Jarnac had a migraine, and Monsieur chose to keep her company.

"I am glad you have heard of Mr. Fitzpatrick. You know there is another war in that part of the world: the Spaniards have taken an island on the coast of Brazil: I do not believe we shall dare to frown.

66

My hexegon closet will be finished in a fortnight, and then I shall be at liberty to pay my duty at Ampthill. The Churchills tell me the town says Lady Elizabeth Conway is to be married to Sir Matthew Fetherstone.

Have you got through Dr. Robertson, madam? I am not enchanted. There is a great affectation of philosophizing without much success. But there is one character that charms me, besides Las Casas, at whom the good doctor rather sneers; it is that of Pedro di Gasca, who was disinterested enough to make ten parliaments blush. Do but imagine the satisfaction with which he must have retired with his poverty, after the great things he had done, when every other of his countrymen were cutting the throats of Americans for gold! He did not want to be treasurer of the navy, as well as general and pacificator. I am delighted too with the ingratitude of the Spanish monarchs to all their heroic assassins. fortunate the Otaheitans, to have no gold mines in their country!

How

We will conclude with one more extract, and an amusing poem, probably written in imitation of the Madame Blaize of Oliver Goldsmith, or in contempt of the author of the "Deserted Village," for whom Walpole expresses on more than one occasion very unjust feeling :

"Arlington Street, Saturday, 8 in the evening of your public day.

"SOLITUDE of solitudes! all is solitude. I am justly punished, madam, for leaving the most agreeable place in the world, and two and a half persons for whom I have the greatest regard, to come to a place where grass would grow in the streets, if this summer it would grow anywhere. Even Lady Hertford is gone, and I suppose my Lady Townsend is on the wing. The former, I conclude, is at Wakefield races, for she does not return till Monday. In short, I have re-packed up my night-cap, and am hurrying to Strawberry, only staying to do you justice on myself, and sign my confession. I was as unlucky at Luton; I sent in a memorial, begging only to see the chapel-the lord was not at home, and admittance was denied.

"As I do not take the St. James's Evening Post, nor think my own works worth twopence, pray send me, if there appears, any answer to Jocasta.

"On my table I found a deprecation from the Secretary of the Antiquaries, but I intend to be obdurate. Having antiquarian follies enough. of my own, I cannot participate of Whittington and his Cat.

"You may believe, madam, that I cannot have heard any news, having seen no soul but my maid Mary. A million of thanks for all your goodness to me; I do not deserve it, and I would blush at it, if that was not too common a sacrifice with me to merit being laid on your altar.

It

NOBLE JEFFERY,*

A POEM IN THE PRIMITIVE STYLE,
HUMBLY INSCRIBED.

ΤΟ

THE MOST HONOURABLE LADY ANNE
COUNTESS OF UPPER OSSORY,

may

BY THOMAS TRUEMAN, GENT.

Jeffery was a noble wight,
I will tell you all his story;
chance to please you much,
If it happens not to bore ye.
He was not extremely rich,
Tho' his birth was very great;
Yet he did for nothing want,
When he got a good estate.
Of good manners he the pink was,
And so humble with the great,
That he always stood uncover'd,
But when he put on his hat.
To his servants he was gentle,
After his good father's fashion,
And was never known to scold,

But when he was in a passion.
Bacchus was our hero's idol;

And, my lady, would you think it?
He, to shew his taste in wine,

Thought the best way was to drink it.
Galen's sons he seldom dealt with,
Having neither gout nor phthisic,

Nor evacuations used,

But when he had taken physic.
More for pastime than for lucre
Cards and dice would Jeffery use;

Nor at either was unlucky,

Unless it was his chance to lose.

A beautiful and virtuous lady

Crown'd the bliss of Jeffery's life;
And when he became her spouse,
She also became his wife.

Five short years with her he passed:
Had it been as much again,

As she brought him children five,

Perhaps she might have brought him ten.

Jeffery was extremely comely,

Made exactly to a T;

And no doubt had had no equal,

Had there been no men but he.

* There is no date to this poem; it may probably have been written in imitation of Goldsmith's Madam Blaize, or in contempt of him, for whom he elsewhere expresses such an unjust feeling.-ED.

Great and various were his talents;
He could speak and could compose;
And in verse had often written,
But that he always wrote in prose.
In music few excelled our Jeffery;
No man had a lighter finger,
And if he had but had a voice,

He would have made a charming singer.
In optics Jeffery had great knowledge,
And could prove as clear as light,
That all diseases of the eyes

Are very hurtful to the sight.
Jeffery's nurse had told his fortune;
And it happen'd, as said she,
That he would expire at land,
If he did not die at sea.
At land he died the very day

On which deceas'd his loving wife;
And more I know, the day he died

Was the last day of all his life.

JEFFERY'S EPITAPH.

Here Jeffery lies, who all the dead survived, And ne'er had died, if he had never lived.

THE OPERA.

!

No further record of Her Majesty's Theatre need be given for the past month, than the statement that it is at a height of popularity and success, which at no era has been surpassed. Even last year, the continental fame of Jenny Lind, was regarded by some as in some measure causing the extraordinary sensation she created: but this season she has rested on her merit alone, and yet, if possible, the enthusiasm about her is now greater than ever. Every performance is an ovation, every new attempt a wonder. Her singing has indeed become the "Regum decus atque voluptas," aye and the delight of the people too, for not alone monarchs and princes, but almost all classes crowd the arena of the Opera, making it frequently, also, a reunion for the ebullition of that loyalty of the heart, which, thank God! in this age of revolt and revolution, still animates every right mind in England. To therefore now enter into the merits or marvels of Jenny Lind, would be indeed "to gild refined gold, to paint the lily, to throw a perfume on the violet," or, "with taper-light, to seek the beauteous eye of Heaven to garnish.' Like our own Shakespeare's, Jenny Lind's is a talent to witness and enjoy, a talent beyond laudation.

"

Much to the credit of Signora Tadolini, she has been able, notwithstanding this immense Jenny Lind excitement, to make her performances more than commonly attractive. Her latest impersonation was that of the heroine in Don Pasquale, the Don himself being as usual played (for who else could play it?) by Lablache, in this character truly inimitable Signora Tadolini surprised the public by her interpretation of the music of the part. Her beautiful argentine tones, her remarkable agility and peculiar style of embellishment, told with the utmost effect. She elicited rapturous encores in her two bravuras, and finished triumphantly with one of her ordinary tours de force of vocalization. That Tadolini, and that the ballet of "Les Quatre Saisons," with Cerito, Carlotta Grisi, Marie Taglioni, and Rosati, should continue to enchant, even amid an all-dominant enchantment, only proves that one perfection can never be entirely absorbed by another. Real excellence, as it does not envy, so it does not exclude sister excellence also.

LITERATURE.

THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE LETTERS OF JUNIUS ELUCIDATED: IN. CLUDING A BIOgraphical MemOIR OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ISAAC BARRE, M.P. BY JOHN BRITTON, F.S.A., Author of the "Cathedral and the Architectural Antiquities;" "A Dictionary of the Architecture and Archeology of the Middle Ages," &c. J. R. Smith, Old Compton Street, 1848.

THIS is another of the many, many essays that have been written on the subject of the Authorship of Junius; it goes to prove that Colonel Barré was the writer of them, and it grounds its supposition on energetic and elaborate argument. The train of reasoning, however, can be only understood by reference to the book itself, and therefore we will not touch upon it. The work, beside its main question, contains a mass of interesting matter. The author thus speaks in his preface of his arduous undertaking:

"When I resolved to publish a new and distinct Essay, to elucidate the authorship of Junius's Letters, little did I anticipate the extent of labour and time which would be requisite to accomplish the task I had undertaken. Since I was first apprised of the source whence they were believed by my informant to derive their origin, more than half a century has elapsed; and though I have since read many treatises, and heard various opinions respecting their authorship, I cannot find, in any of the parties hitherto named, the qualifications and traits of character peculiar to Junius: those characteristics are, however, combined in a pre-eminent degree in three eminent politicians who, for many successive years, spent their summer months at Bowood, in Wiltshire. At different times and in different publications, I have incidentally alluded to the place and parties; but I have forborne to name the author or to specify particulars, until I had an opportunity of investigating the case in all its bearings and relations. For the last twelve months I have sought by extensive reading, inquiry, and correspondence, to obtain authentic, satisfactory evidence; and the result is, that the materials which I have accumulated, whilst they serve to elucidate the political and private character and talents of the anonymous AUTHOR of the LETTERS-LIEUTENANT-COLONEL BARRE-also point out and implicate his intimate associates, LORD SHELBURNE and MR. DUNNING. There are likewise some extraordinary revelations respecting WILLIAM GREATRAKES, whose career in life, and the circumstances attending his death, with the disposal of his property, abound in mystery, and are pregnant with suspicion. The story of this gentleman is a romance of real life, and, like that of the concealed Author, is enveloped in a cloak of ambiguity and darkness; yet it is confidently believed that he was the Amanuensis to Colonel Barré, and also his confidential agent and messenger. To identify these persons and explain their connection with the public correspondence referred to-to bring out facts of dates and deeds from the dark and intricate recesses in which they were studiously and