she is a charming giri, rather too plump, perhaps, yet truly feminine, and she has the finest hand and arm you ever saw: she skips over her mother's grounds like a fawn, and has the most beautiful foot and ancle in the world. When the weather is bad she is emploved in knitting worsted

colour as the flower. Turbans of Chinese | Harrïet has never visited London but once: crape, surmounted by a Bird of Paradise plume, is also a favourite head-dress for evening parties: as are dress hats of satin, with a band, the ends of which are ornamented with pearls. India muslin, crape, and Cachemire, are the most prevalent materials for turbans; some, however, are partly of white crape, and partly of rose-stockings and making waistcoats for aged coloured satin, intermingled with pearls. Toques of black velvet also are worn, crowned with heron's feathers, or a bird of Paradise.

The hair of the French ladies is now dressed so as to form a pyramid, consisting of several stories, if I may so express myself, of plaits or braids; these are, in full dress, intermingled with pearls, and the lower one encircled by a wreath of flowers.

The favourite ornaments in jewellery are of coral, and the most prevalent colours vine-leaf green, carmelite, Neptune blue, and slate colour.

FOURTH LETTER FROM A YOUNG
MARRIED LADY,

TO HER SISTER IN THE COUNTRY.

Brighton.

HERE am I compelled to stay, my dear Lucy, though I begin to be ennuyé á-lamort; why then, you will naturally ask, do I remain here? Because I cannot possibly think of returning to town while more than one-half of the fashionable world is yet absent from the metropolis; for here there is positively now nothing worth liv ing for. I have attended the promenade rooms, and the Bazaars, till I am heartily tired of them; not but what, at the former, I always continued to listen with pleasure to a few of the singers at the Castle concerts; who, to some science in singing, united a knowledge of music.

When we all began to grow weary of the sameness of Brighton's diversions, Fitzozborne, who is acquainted with all the world, as I may say, introduced me to several charming families who are settled in Sussex; the most agreeable of which are a Lady Charlton, her daughter Harriet, and her niece Adelaide; the latter a complete town-bred lady of fashion. The gentle

men and women; at the same time she dresses with taste, and all her muslin robes are embroid red by her own hand; indeed the good Lady Bountiful, her mother, says there is not a napkin or a tablecloth but what has been hemmed by her taper fingers.

Never is she a minute idle; she writes well, and assists her mother in arranging her accounts, for they keep no steward.And now for the fascinating Adelaide, the epitome of fashion, and the best specimen I can give you of the reigning mode. Her fine long light hair is plaited, and then wound elegantly round her head; a Cachemire shawl, light as it is rich and superb, is carelessly thrown over her shoulders, which are, nevertheless, seen to be totally bare under the partial Oriental covering; and also, be it known (and few there are who do not know it) they are as white as ivory. This is the dress in which she generally descends to the dining-parlour; and excessively perfumed with Lau de Millefleurs. In morning walks, her bonnet is so large that you have to look a long time before you can find her face, as her regular features are small and delicate; at balls and evening parties, her head is loaded with

various kinds of flowers.

She is extremely slender, and light as a Sylph, and whenever she is called upon to perform on the harp, she puts herself into the most studied attitude, and gives a prelude to the song she is about to accompany, with such wonderful execution that you would really think her a musician by profession.

She sends every week to London for her millinery, from the very first hands, particularly from the Magazin de Modes, in St. James's-street, which I have so frequently mentioned to you. When the messenger arrives, loaded with every thing rare aud costly in the article of fashion, she is like a

mad creature with joy. She hangs the trimmings over her harp, and stands and gazes on them with rapture; hangs the robes over the chairs, and spreads out the shawls on the carpet; tries on a bonnet, and because it does not become her, declares it is detestable; and perhaps what costs from three to four guineas, is destined never to quit the hook in her dressing-room that she orders it to be hung upon, that she may endeavour, as she says, to get used to the sight of the odious thing. After a disappointment of this kind she is generally out of humour for the whole day; she will not dress, she lays down on the sofa, complains of a headache, and declares she is the most wretched being in the world. She orders her maid to bring her some volume of sentimental trash from the ibrary, and tears out the third leaf with vexation, because it is so dull and prosing.

Boston's lectures, or Clara Fitzosborne's witty remarks on tonish folly. How charming is the conduct of Lady Charlton and ber amiable daughter! Their fortune is immense; they enjoy all the tranquil pleasures of life; are fashionable and well dressed, without being slaves to every new mode; while their riches are chiefly employed in administering to the wants of the helpless and indigent.

This letter, my dear Lucy, is beyond its usual limits: I will tell you more of this family when I return to town, as Lady Charlton proposes passing the winter there. A word or two more about fashion, and then farewell.

I have had the divinest cornette sent me from London you ever saw it is called the Hesse cornette, or l'Esperance des Anglois. It is composed of the finest Mechlin lace and net; it is lined with soft blushcoloured satin, and fastened under the chin with a quilling of fine lace, that terminates in a bow of blush-coloured ribband, con

of the same ribband is placed in front, and the hair is entirely concealed, except a few ringlets that are made to sport round the face. I am sure your ingenuity will easily fabricate an Esperance from this description.

The sleeves are very much puffed out now at the top, but are made tighter to the arm than formerly, especially as they advance towards the wrists, where a few tucks, bringing that part close to the arm, and carried up a few inches higher, give an elegant old English feature to the long sleeve: look at lady Mary Arundel's por trait in our picture gallery, and you will find the present long sleeve depicted to the life.

Her mother, who has now been dead about two years, first placed her by her will with a female friend, as gay and thought-siderably above the left ear: a small bow less as herself: her guardians wisely took her from such an imprudent mentor, and placed her with her good aunt Charlton, whom she certainly loves, as well as her rustic cousin, as she always calls her. Her mother had been married very young, and she and her Adelaide were always dressed alike, and appeared more like sisters than mother and daughter; one dressing too young, the other too old: for at fifteen the youthful Adelaide's beautiful tresses were concealed under a toque, loaded with plumes, the same as ber mother's; while diamonds, pearls, and coral loaded her arms, her ears, her wrists and fingers, because mamma had the same. They rode on horseback together, and drove together their own curricle through Hyde Park. The daughter's youth, however, enabled her to survive a fever caught by them both in'quitting a very crowded party one humid evening in December: but though now only eighteen, the beautiful Adelaide seems rapidly sinking into a consump tion.

This picture of a too eager pursuit of fashion continually before my eyes, has been of more service to me than all my aunt

Shoes are much more worn than half boots, because the carriage-keepers only have a right to give laws to fashion, and walking must ever, except in the public walks, be reckoned plebeian.

Thus having carried you from head to foot, allow me now to subscribe myself Your affectionate sister,

MARIA.

P. S. We depart for London to-morrow.

MONTHLY MISCELLANY;

INCLUDING VARIETIES CRITICAL, LITERARY, AND HISTORICAL.

THE THEATRES,

KING'S THEATRE.

in order to save Juan from Proserpine. All Elvira's endeavours are, however, ineffectual. Some novelties are introduced in this well known theatric spectacle. Among others, Don Juan is taken in Charon's boat across the river Styx, and instead of being" flung into fire on the stage, he is seized by two Furies who drag him to the dominions of Proserpine. There are two Harlequins and two Columbines.

THIS Theatre opened for the present season, with Paer's favourite Opera of Griselda. We are happy to find amongst several of our former favourites, who rank high in vocal merit, the name of Madame Fodor, who is engaged as Prima Cantatrice this season, and also amongst the new competitors for public favour is a pupil of Madame Catalani, to whose rising talents of a very superior order, the lovers of har.ing Island, which descends very convemony look up with high expectation.

At Covent-Garden the new Pantomime was called Harlequin Gulliver; or, The Fly

niently to save Harlequin and Columbine from the persecutions of their natural enemies. The King of Laputa, afterwards Pantaloon, supported by the Lord Chancellor, afterwards Clown, adopt a decided animosity to

DRURY-LANE AND COVENT-GARDEN. THE Christmas holidays afforded, as usual, to all the happy children the feats of Har-wards the stranger. He is, however, a spirited lequin and the Clown: a new Pantomime tar, and succeeds in running away with the at Drury Lane was produced, entitled Har- Princess Rhomboldilla, afterwards Columlequin's Vision; or, The Feast of the Statue: bine. In the land of Lilliput, they meet it was gotten up under the direction of Mr. with pigmy wonders; the Emperor and his Lethbridge, the machinist, and does credit Empress receive them hospitably, but their to his skill. The first scene, which repre- pleasures are checked by the Clown setting sents the Council Chamber of Pluto, is pe- || Pantaloon's wig on fire, and flinging it into culiarly brilliant. It is composed of large the palace, which produces a dreadful conarches in the Saxon style, around each of flagration. Harlequin's wand sets all to which, as well as up the wings, fire is in rights, and the palace rises from its ashes motion, and a view of the fiery lake of the with additional splendor. Departing from infernal regions appears in the rear. Pluto this country, the chief personages arrive in and Proserpine are seated on a throne, with Brobdignag, where they find a giant race. Alecto on the right, Megara on the left. Here the reception of Harlequin and his Pluto summons the Furies, who place them-future bride is favourable. A chief source selves on each side of the stage, and sing of mirth is a duet between the Clown (Gria chorus. Mercury enters with the Ghost maldi) and a Canary bird, whose dimenof Don Juan's Father, and who pleads sions correspond with those of the people for his son with Pluto: Pluto promises to whom he usually sung From these to forgive Don Juan, but Proserpine de-regions of extremes, they at length arrive clares her resolution to assert her empire, and to have Don Juan for her slave; she employs Mercury as her agent, to excite him to vice, and augment his means of gratification. Don Juan is discovered, after the close of this scene, asleep on a couch, with Laperello sleeping at his feet. Mercury touches Don Juan with his cadaceus, and the latter falling on his knees, Vows to love Leonora. In the second scene he kills her father; and Elvira is persuaded by Venus to assume the garb of Columbine, || gician. No. 106.-Vol. XVII. .F

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in Christian countries: in France, after cuffing and kicking with Monsieur, they proceed to England, where the smuggling trade is exemplified by the Clown dressing himself like a French lady in the contents of one of the smuggled trunks, assisted by the vender of a coal-box, which he makes use of as a bounet. After many adventures, Harlequin and Columbine are killed, but they rise from their tombs and are united in matrimony by permission of a friendly ma

The above Theatre has also presented the public with a new Tragedy, called Retribution; or, The Chieftain's Daughter; the date of its story is in the fourth cen tury.

The scene is laid in the royal palace of Ctesiphon, the then capital of the Persian dominions; the piece opens with the anniversary of the succession of Varanes to the throne; his elder son Chosroo, returns triumphant from an expedition against one of the tribes which inhabit the Carduchiau mountains; among his captives is the chieftain of the tribe, Suthes-whose daughter Zimra, has been carried off by Chosroo. The brothers dispute and successively became possessors of the chieftain and his daughter. They are delivered by Varanes to Hamed. The violence of Chosroo against the captives, and his latest designs of treason against the throne are discovered by Varanes, who seeks him and commands bim to desist. Chosroo, however, whose love is indignantly rejected by Zimra, confines her and her father in separate dungeons. Hafir with his father Abdas, and the King's chamberlain Sohrah, had previously found Varanes senseless, and on his recovery had heard expressions which convinced Hafir that Varanes had mounted the throne by the murder of his brother. He insults Hamed with the charge, who flying to his father finds it confirmed. Hamed, found by Chosroo standing over his fainting father, is now charged by him with the murder of Varanes, whose body is carried off. Hamed, with Suthes, charged also with treasonable designs, are on the point of being led to execution, notwithstanding the prayers of Zimra, when it is found that the body is, in fact, || only that of a slave, commissioned by Chosroo to destroy the King. The life of the King having been saved by Hafir, Varanes now re-appears, orders Chosroo for execution, discovers " Retribution" for his own crime in the guilt of his sou and dies exhausted and heart-broken. Hamed and Zimra mount the throne of Persia, and the curtain falls.

We are surprised to see Miss Campbell is not engaged at Drury-Laue this season, where her abilities would be serviceably employed. It is but justice to this young lady to say, that no person has ever met with more universal approbation on their debut than she did. The few nights she appeared she excited general admiration, which must have been truly merited on her part, having neither private friends nor interest in London except such as her talents elicited. We have been informed, however, and we hope correctly, that she is engaged for the ensuing season.

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BATH THEATRICALS.

A new Tragedy of five acts has been produced at the Bath Theatre, called Fazio, written by Mr. Millman, of Brazen-Nose College, Oxon.

Fazio, the hero of the piece, is a young Florentine of talent and family, occupied in a ruinous. search after the philosopher's stone. He is married to a lady of the name of Bianca: the first scene exhibits him in the bosom of his family, happy and virtuous. His crucible is soon after at work, and the glorious discovery of alchymy seems within his grasp. A rich miser, named Bartolo, lives near Fazio's house :-Bianca is just retired to rest after an interesting and pathetic scene with her husband, when Fazio, who is preparing to extinguish his chemical forge for the night, is alarmed by knocking at the door. The miser Bartolo rushes in; he has been attacked by bravoes, who have attempted to rob him; he has escaped, but not without wounds. Fazio offers to send for a surgeon and a confessor. The avarice of Bartolo will not listen to this, and the miser expires on the floor: Fazio knowing his wealth, and that having no heirs, the state would seize his property, takes the keys from the dead body, searches his house, and conveys his riches to his own apartment. Fazio now emerges from obscurity, and moves in the first orbit of rank, wealth, and luxury. His sudden wealth attracts envy. He accounts for his riches, alledging, that he had discovered the philosopher's stone. Bianca, virtuous and contented before, seems corrupted by this new mine of wealth. Fazio has confided to her the true source of his

riches.

A lady of rank, of the name of Altabella, has been beloved by Fazio before his marriage. Fazio, unfortunately, forms a new intimacy with this lady: his virtue is subdued, and Bianca deserted: in a moment of resentful jealousy, she rushes to the Grand Council of Florence, accuses her husband, and directs the Council to a spot in the garden where the body of the miser has been buried by Fazio, who is apprehended in the arms of Altabella. He demands his accuser, and bis wife is brought before him. He is condemned to die; and both Fazio and Bianca are plunged in the deepest affliction. Bianca applies to Altabella for her interest with the Duke of Florence, to obtain a respite. Fazio, however, suffers the sentence of the law, and Bianca dies on the stage in a fit of frantic sorrow.

The above is precisely the story, even to the very name of the wife of that interesting dramatic Romance of the Italian Wife, produced last summer at the Surrey Theatre, by the ingenious Mr. Dibdin, and in which Miss Taylor displayed those exquisite abilities which gave us cause to hope

we should have seen her engaged at one of self at the expence of these young Amazons, our metropolitan Theatres this winter.