The PRINCE OP WALES'S THEATRE has, up to for a summer season, under the management the close of the month, performed Mr. Robert- of Mr. George Vining. The novelties are a son's smart comedy of "Play;' and a change in new comedy founded on La Famille Benoiten, the shape of another new comedy is promised a notorious Parisian comedy; and Miss Kate shortly,

Reignolds and Mdlle. Camille are debutantes in The New ROYALTY flourishes under Miss the new piece. Mary Oliver's regime, with its popular bur- The grace and ease of the gymnastic feats, lesque of the “Merry Zingara,” in which Mr. the prodigies of balancing, the taste in colour Dewar and Miss C. Saunders are bighly amu- and grouping, and the marvellous dexterity of sing. The fair manageress also appears in the the legerdemain, have steadily won for the extravaganza, as well as in the domestic drama Japanese at the Lyceum Tueatre, a large share which precedes it every night; viz. “ Daddy of popularity. They are about to leave the meGray.” In the latter, Miss Oliver has an inter- tropolis, to practise their arts upon our innocent esting part drawn for her by Mr. Andrew Hal- provincial communities ; so that an opportunity lady. In the "Merry Zingara" Miss Oliver of witnessing the talent and agility of the sings a lively chanson to the burthen of O Japanese troupe will be lost to those who do such a little lady!" which is rapturously ap- not at once avail themselves of their stay in the plauded and encored nightly.

metropolis. It is a curious circumstance, that

at the present time there are, besides the The new Queen's THEATRE's fortunes appear Lyceum Japanese Tumblers, another troupe, to be reviving, with the return, after a long and called the "Japanese circus,” and an "oriental adverse absence, of Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Wigan troupe," professing the "black art”. (as it was from the stage of their own inauguration and of old called), and performing as Asian conjuadoption. Mr. Alfred Wigan, however, considers that he is a host in himself, and therefore Asiatic Jongleurs should have selected our own

rors in England. How it came to pass that the nothing new has been lately produced to sup. country for this apparently.combined attack on port the manager in maintaining his position the national credulity of Britons, we cannot as the great actor of the refined drawing-room depose to ; enough that they proclaim, with Mr. style of drama.

Fechter, as Lacardere, at the Lyceum, " We are The Princess's Theatre has just re-opened' here!"



ONLY TEMPER. Three Vols. By Mrs. C. , only to be found in the conventual retirement of J. Newby, author of "Wondrous Strange,"&c., some Mabberley House, moulded and matured &c. (T. Cautley Newby, 30, Welbeck-street, by the guidance of a good and pure Miss Cavendish Square.)-Few more sweetly-coceived Hammerton. We have met no type of her in and prettier love stories have fallen into our the outside world. But poet - hearts have hands for some time past than the one before us. yearned for and fashioned such; and our It is perhaps rather a congeries of love-stories, author, taking three lines from Tennysonfor we have two or three phases of this mystery of human existence, which might in a single And after heaven, on our dull side of death, word have answered the old Samsonian enigma,

What should be best, if not go pure a love, and proclaimed itself, in its reality, stronger Clothed in so pure a loveliness ?" than the lion and sweeter than the honeycomb. But though the silent trust and faith em--has given form to the sweet thought, and bodied in that of Hope Brereton and her soldier- nothing can be fairer or more loveable than her lover, is a charming episode in the story, and creation. To exterior beauty, and the proper the matter-of-fact marriage of her sister Ruth shade of golden hair, Rose Brereton, the or. and Mr. Saunders an amusing one, the active phan daughter of a lady of title and a handinterest gathers round Rose and her good. some, clever, thriftless father, adds the aristolooking, resolute, but wary lover John Moncton. cratic air and refinement of the one to the genial, If Rose has a fault, it is that of over-sweetness, facile manners, quick intellect, and talent of the of perfectibility beyond, we fear, the power of other. With an independence of character, a human being to obtain-a patience which however, quite unlike her late parent, which she which takes up every mental cross, with such is sensitive enough to remember with humiliasubmission, such uncomplaining humility, that tion, Rose, conscious that to escape from it she we feel the character is the author's ideal; or, is must fit herself for the task that lies before her in


a more methodical and finished way that she has “Oh, that is it," said Mr. Brereton, in a relieved hitherto been enabled to do, expends the three tone. hundred pounds, that are her whole fortune, in two years' tuition at Mabberley House. The Here is a glimpse of Mabberley House in the story opens at the close of these two years, old court suburb, and its lady principal: when Rose is supposed to have finished her education, and her good uncle Brereton and his Mabberley House had still many advantages arising four daughters, notwithstanding aunt Susan's from its early days of grandeur and retirement. Its objections, have resolved that, for at least six firm brick walls were covered with fruit, and the months, she shall share their home, and be to trees, scarcely less productive than in days gone by :

garden-ground was stored with apple, pear, and plum them as a sister-nay, that each will give up a certain part of her modest fortune, so that

while many a tall evergreen or old-fashioned flower the orphan girl may have a sister's share of the well-kept gravel paths and smooth turf edges. It

gave comfort and homeliness to the general effect of their wealth also. Here is a clue to the kind,

was now a ladies' school, and one which combined unworldly natures of the old Devonshire Squire comfort with fashion in an unusual degree, for Miss and his children, and thus, in an early chapter Hammerton was both genuine and successful. She of the story, they are fixed in our respect and had made light of the care and trouble which have love. Squire Brereton is a widower, and Aunt worn many a nerve and all but broken many a heart, Susan the widowed sister of his late wife, ma She liked her work and took her pastime in it, and nages his house, and chaperones bis girls, as by loved her girls with unwearying patience and tenacity, a fiction of affection (the eldest is two-and seeing them leave the old house and go out into thirty) the four Miss Breretons are still called | brighter scenes and more stirring life with a tender by their loving, single-hearted father, and

sympathy and regard, which seemed never to tire anxious, managing, but most transparent Annt

with use or grow old with time Susan. The very thought of the advent of the But she was growing old now, and many of her prelovely, highly-educated, aristocratic-mannered sent pupils were the children of those who onee girl terrifies her for the lessened chances of her remembrance, hud sent their loved ones to her keep

wandered in the grand old garden, and, in faithful special flock, and she, of course, seconds Rose's ing. She was growing old, and the loneliness of her resolve to become a governess. One of her

life stole upon her sometimes and made her long for arguments with the Squire is the benefit which must accrue to herself by going back, as it nsual term of her loves. Her once erect and stately

some changeless intimacy_which might outlast the were, amongst the friends and by-gone ac- bearing was giving way now to a not ungraceful quaintances of her father, an argument that he stoop, and her handsome faee, though still bright and throws over with the reply

cheery, needed all the adornment of lace and ribbons

to make her look as pleasant as she always did, "Governesses do not go into society, that is altogether a mistake; or, rather, they see but do not This wish ultimately forms itself into the share in it. Philip always said so. They get notions generous idea of offering Rose Brereton a partabove their station, and no good from them, but to nership in the school, which the latter gratemake themselves dissatisfied. It is a very trying life, fully accepts, though she is not to enter on her and I do not wish Rose to be so tried."

duties till the six months, which her uncle has in. “Her aristocratic ways must be native to her, and vited her to spend at the Limes, shall have extbe harm (if there is any harm) must have been done

pired. long ago. What I dread more than anything is her

Shortly before the close of the term

when she is to leave Mabberley House for the bringing high notions down here. Now, with her manners, and Phillip's charming way of getting on

country, the lady whose infirmity gives its title with every one, and her own beauty-she might marry

to the book makes her appearance at Miss well if she had a chance. There is no chance down

Hammerton's establishment under peculiar and here."

mysterious circumstances, She arrives late in “If I read Rose aright, what she would value the evening, in the midst of a storm, saturated most would be a home."

with wet, and then and there upon the intro“And would she not have a home if she married ?" duction and recommendation of a former pupil

We would hope so," said Mr: Brereton, smiling. of Miss Hammerton's is received as a parlour“You women think marriage is everything, and yet boarder. The lady, who is called Miss Cross, you have been very happy.'

is remarkably plain, but with dark expressive “But I am a widow (She had been a wife for one

eyes, and, in spite of her frequent fits of dis. year. -Ed.], which makes all the difference.'

agreeableness, her haughty supercilious manner, “I scarcely see that. You have been a single

self-assertion, and outbreaks of temper, exerts woman for five-and-twenty years, and I hope not an unhappy one."

a strange attractiveness at times. This lady's "Not a single woman—a widow. It is so diffe- incognito is not well kept. We know, from the rent."

very first, that she is no gour spinster, but a “Oh! is it? It is difficult to understand. It

runaway wife; and when we learn that Mrs. never makes any difference to me iu my judgement of Moncton, of Burnside, is missing from her a woman, yon see, so I never think about it."

home, we know, without the machinery of the “Men and women live in different worlds : yours is portrait, &c., where to put our hands upon her. all sense ; ours, all sensibility," said Aunt Snssa, The story is of the simplest description, the laughing." "Yours, all real ; ours, all nnreal.” scene changing only from the school at Ken

sington to a quiet Devonshire village, and vice you see he could not be angry; but somehow I have verså. There are no striking incidents, not the always thought that no other man ought to kiss me.” slightest approach to anything sensational, and “I thought so !” exelaimed Rose, triumphantly. yet, having once commenced Mrs. Newby's “You never did forget —you never could have married story, there is no laying it aside till the reader anyone else.” has finished it and a very pure and pleasantly,

Do you not see that if I said that, I should make written story, it is, with a gracious purpose and myself ridiculons, when no one but Ronald ever a happy end. We cannot refrain from outs asked me to be his wife.”

"O yes, I see,” said disbelieving Rose. lining Hope Brereton's story, the eldest of the well-favoured, healthy, good-tempered damsels, got the better of solemn Hope. She saw now why

It was perhaps with her little school ways that she who cannot get up a head-ache amongst the four, her cheerfulness was so serene, and had so little mirth and who are given to laugh rather than groan in it; why her manner was so like the hushed tranwith Aunt Susan over their small chances of quillity of an evening picture. matrimony.

“I think I am wise,” she said at length, seeing that “You loved him very much, this poor Ronald Hope would tell no more of herself, " to avoid these Cathcart,” she said, as she idly caressed her cousin, quicksands altogether. At Mabberley House I set my. who seemed bent on smoothing her long hair, self aside from all these attacks upon one's happiness." smoothing it with that tender care which unhappy “I should be sorry to disturb such philosophy,” women vever use towards themselves.

said Hope, smiling, “but were you not reading Ten“Not too well, to make me forget my duty,” said nyson the other day? Some of his lines I think apHope, "and to so good a father."

ply to the pleasant memories I should be sorry to have "No, of course not,” returned Rose," and yet to vanished altogether from my remembrance : part with him almost broke your heart at the time.”

“I was consoled by the certainty that it was also 'I hold it true, whate'er befall ; best for him-how I must have dragged him down !”

I feel it when I sorrow most : “And you never forgot him ?" questioned Rose,

'Tis better to have loved and lost anxious to complete her little romance.

Than never to have loved at all."" Hope turned upon her, her quiet solemn face, with a tranquil smile.

One first and last peep at Mr. John Moncton, “If you mean, child, that I refused other men for the hero par excellence, and we have done : him, you are mistaken. I never had another offer."

“You loved him," said Rose, with another caress, He was a man, emphatically speaking, the most “and you could not make yourself loveable in other prominent feature in his character seemed his manlimen's eyes whilst you were thinking of him.”

ness, whether as shown in his compassion and Hope's lips quivered.

courtesy for women and children, and animals, or in “You are a flatterer, Rose. I tell you I have his marked determination to follow his own will—to never been tempted."

submit to no dictation. He was of middle height, "Not by Mr. Saunders ?"

lithe, active, broad-chested, and strong-handed. His Hope looked a little haughty.

features, taken to pieces, were good; but put together Rose smiled whimsically.

they were irregular, and failed to make him a hand“Annt Susan has been recommending him to me."

some man; but the smile, which showed itself more

in his eyes than on his mouth, was irresistible. Those “Where,” said Rose, returning to the former sub

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eyes were powerful, quick-sighted, and flashing; and ject, "is Ensign Cathcart now?"

in them, perhaps, lay the secret of that power which “In India, I believe; but he is now a Major." Aunt Susan believed to be so great,

“ He will be constant-he will return,” said Rose, “and Uncle George will not say 'No,' now." “ He has learned the value of his daughters,” said fair author further; but we bave quoted her

There we have difficulty in not following the Hope, drily. “No; probably he would not refuse sufficiently to send our readers to the volumes

." You know I did not mean that,” cried Rose, themselves for the story of “Rose: Brereton; or, winding her arm about her. “ He would not refuse Only Temper.” It is one that will certainly go a major as he would an ensign.”

far to secure Mrs. Newby's fame as a writer of "You mistake me," said Hope. “When I sacri- pure and pleasant fiction. ficed my own will' I counted the cost and accepted it. He has, doubtless, long since forgotten me, as I felt he would. It is much better so. I have always been sure that I should not repent following my father's wishes at a time when I had no right to have a will

PERIODICALS. of my own. I was only seventeen, and papa has shown so much care and consideration for me ever

QUARTERLY MAGAZINE OF ODD since, that I have never thought of reproaching him. Fellows. (Manchester.)—The major portion The attempt to appear cheerful for his sake soon grew of the April part of this Quarterly is more than into a habit and a reality.”

ordinarily excellent. Such papers as “The “Did you part in anger ?” asked Rose, turning to Friendly Societies of Antiquity," and "A Talk the romantic view of the matter.

about Trees” (albeit a borrowed title), would do “No; we agreed that it was best. His mother, credit to more-to far more-pretentious pubsince dead, agreed with my father, and he was a good lications; but it is a part of the Editor's (Mr. son. If he had been angry I should soon have ceased Hardwick's) plan to raise the general reader's to care for him. When we parted he kissed me, so intellect, not to write down to it. How much


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the magazine has gained by this system is who pressed it heartily, and, after a moment or two evident by comparison with the earlier numbers. in which he seemed to struggle with emotion, rejoined : Eliza Cook has contributed some clever lines, “Thee hast a roight, lad, to tell me I havn't found entitled "Three Hundred a-Year," in which the the money bring comfort; but then, Harry, the second mild passion of the speaker is amusingly hit off

, woife's not loike the first, and, somehow, the missus in contradistinction to the fierce wants imposed anʼme don't get along well together ; but happen your by conventionality. Mrs. C. A. White's story,

mother could ha' helped to bring in as much as this “The Mill and the House," draws near its close.

one can earn, I should ha' bin a bit different off from what I am.

We should ha' worked for one another, We give the opening of the third chapter :

lad; an' so when I see how clever you are, an' how It was a fair, bright summer night, and the father whoye boy, 'I'm jealous you havn't got a woife that

well spoken, an' how much you ha' learned yourself, and son walked slowly. The very sweetness of the air, redolent of limes in blossom; of new-mown hay;

can help you. A little money to such a man as you'd

soon make a master on ye.” and the soft breath of cattle, chewing the cud, as they stood or lay grouped about the wide pasture within

All in good time, father,” replied the young man the great mill-owner's park (across which their path with a bright, self-reliant light in his eye: “I've a great lay), made their pace dilatory. John Dewes had been deal more to learn as a journeyman before I'm ready to pay a first visit to his daughter-in-law, and though to become a master. But I don't despair,” he conher pretty face and pleasan manner had softened his tinued, gaily, “ I've set myself my task, and mean to disappointment at his son's match-for even a cotton

do it. I've only to look around,” he added, with a spinner may be disappointed in such matters—yet, meaning glance upon the fair park and spreading fields, having harboured the idea, he felt himself constrained upon which, though the stars were out, the warm glow in some sort to express it.

of sunset lingered, " to see how much industry and a "I'm not saying a word agin the lass, my lad. determined will can do ; and dear Rose will help, too,” She's a farently wench enough, an' as good as she's he murmured, rather to himself than aloud. well-looking, by all accounts. “Yes, that she is,” interrupted the young man,


By Henry Whitfield, M.R.C.S., Ashford, Kent. Ay, ay, and she's your choice," observed the elder (London : Hugh Cunningham, 197, Strand.) – man ;

but then you moight hav' had Sally Har. We recommend the perusal of this pamphlet graves that was, an' hav' cut out George Boscobel ; (the work of an experienced and thoughtful for, to my certain knowledge, she loiked your little man) to the foolish virgins, and still more foolish finger better than she did his'en whole body.” matrons, who pride themselves on the contrac

But, father, this is telling tales," said young tion of a waist to sixteen inches, notwithDewes, with a smile in his eye nevertheless ; and I standing the publication of the “ Corset and may say the same of Rose, in comparison with Sally the Crinoline, in which the subject of tightmarried because I wanted a wife. not a mill-hand. i lacing

from our author's point of view is laughed have kuown my little girl ever since she was that high,”

at as mere antiquated prejudice. We regret that putting his hand to his knee; "and I have never seen

a poem, entitled “Woman's Metamorphosis, or heard anything but what was good of her. I know upon the same subject, though admirably she loves me just as truly as I do her, and I have every

filled for private distribution, is not adapted reason to believe she will make me a good and faithful for publication in our pages. wife; and I think that's the main thing in marriage, father.”

HANOVER SQUARE,-(London: Ashdown “Ay, ay, lad, there's a good deal in that; but und Parry, Hanover Square).-The April and money's a good thing too--specially to a working man May numbers of this interesting musical misthat's not too well paid. He wants a woife as can help cellany are before us; and in talent, variety, and him on a bit--not a pretty doll to look at, and jest excellence sustain the reputation of the earlier keep house. Whoy, Sally Boscobel,” he went on, un. noticing the impatient flushing of the young man's parts. . If we complain that the “ Echoes" of brow, “never takes less than ten or twelve shillings a

Virginia Gabriel have grown somewhat monotoweek to her own share. There's a help to a man’s nous, it is but to remind her of the sweeter,

brighter, better things of which she is capable. Just so; but, father, this is a sore subject between The brilliant “Impromptu” of Lefébure Wely,

I can remember, in my own dear mother's time, and Henry Goodban's " serenade,” with its melohow much better off you were; how much more re dious opening and impassioned close, are sucspeetable and comfortable she made and kept your ceeded in the May number by a' charming home than it has been kept since; and yet I have composition of Sidney Smith, entitled “Evenheard you say that she never earned a shilling towards ing Rest,” somewhat difficult of execution, but its maintenance; but then she saved you by her neat very remunerative to an intelligent performer, ways and thrift and carefulness, many a pound." This number is farther enriched by a bright « Don't, Harry,” exclaimed the man, making a

little piece “Spring Breezes,” by Ignace Gibdead stop ;" it hurts me when I hear you speak of her. It gives me a pain here : it does, indeed !” and he by Hamilton Aide, and "It is the golden May

son; and two songs, “ Love the Pilgrim,” words pressed his hand upon his heart.”

“ Forgive me, father ; but remember that Rose is time;" the first of these is set to an expressive just as dear to me as mother was to you, and that it is and charming melody by Jacques Blumenthal;

while the too late now to find fault with our marriage.”

tter bears sufficient proof of its And the young man laid his hand in his father's, musical qualities in the name of its composer,

J. L. Haiton,

wage !"


The Life BOAT; A JOURNAL OF THE / feel it is right to do so, in the name of benevoNATIONAL LIFE - Boat INSTITUTION.- lence, and for the interests of humanity and of Warmly as the sun shines, and fair as looks commerce. And when mamma and the children the sea to holiday makers round the coast, its pay their annual visit to Broadstairs or Weydangers remain unmitigated, and the heat-fog mouth, or Torquay, or more homely Margate is not unfrequently found as inimical to the or Ramsgate, we counsel them to pay a visit to safety of a ship-often more so in the channel - the life-boat station, which will be found at either than a stiff gale of wind. Its appearance is place, and after examining the boat that has synonymous with a dead calm; and its dangers been the bearer of life and hope to many sinkconsist in the presence of strong currents, and ing hearts, and the life-belts and other apparasunken rocks; the one the natural result of the tus for the safety of her brave crew-above all, other. It is customary with masters of coast- after reading the prayer that in that place ing vessels, and channel pilots, to give these becomes as sharp, a cry as when the apostle treacherous localities a wide berth; they are uttered it, “Help Lord, or we perish !" they too generally well buoyed, and otherwise marked, will cast in their aid, and help to save jeopar. and our sailors know where exactly to put their dized life, and return to home and friends, some fingers on them in their charts. But it is a who, but for such help, must have found a feature of the summer fog to hang its mazy grave “among sea-weed and ooze.". curtains over headlands and sea marks, and

C. A. W. while the ship seems stationary on the still sea, the silent, unseen, but irresistible current is drifting her closer and closer to the hidden danger. The Deadman's Rocks, or the too famous Runnel Stones, for instance, which have brought many a good ship to the end of her reckoning, and their crews to a sudden death,

IN THE WATCHES OF NIGHT. the only trace of which has been a bit of broken spar, or floating wreck, or portions of merchan. In the watches of night, when like soft-falling dew, dise scattered on, it may be, quite a distant part of the coast. I am not calling attention to any

The blessing of slumber descends on sad eyes, such recent calamity: I only use the fact in My spirit, released from its eares, flies to you, proof that even the fairest weather and the And revisits the scenes you have long ceased to calmest seas are not without their dangers prize: to that portion of our community, “who go to I lean on the primrose-bank, all of pale fire; and fro in ships." At all times, at all seasons, in all seas, the

I stand on the rustic bridge, where we oft stood ; seaman knows no immunity from the hazards And I cull

, once again, the wild-rose from the briar, of his adventurous occupation; but it is from And the passionate violets deep in the wood. those that most especially threaten him in the narrow seas of the United Kingdom that this noble Institution has spread a cordon of Life. The warm, starry even, when Nature's at rest ; Boats round its coasts, a cordon that has gradu. The deeper green foliage on lustier tree; ally extended from England to the shores of The balmier breath of the odorous west Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. The number of these boats is yearly being added to, and their

All, all, in these visions sweet sleep brings to me. utility is best proved by the amount of human But, alas l with the night-time my raptures are over life annually rescued by means of them, from The beams of the morn cannot brighten my brow; shipwreck and other maritime disasters. For my friends are departed, and false is my lover

We have so recently drawn attention to these numbers, that we will not fall back upon sta

'Tis only in slumber Hope smiles on me now.

A. T. tistics, but repeat to our friendly readers that at no period of the year do life-boats' crews continue inactive; their services are in constant requisition, and to maintain this activeandgrandly organized national charity – which is yet Into one fatal mistake most of us are apt to fall universal charity, for it knows no difference of to think more of oneself than we deserve, and prize nation or people, where the common mischance oneself less than we should. of shipwreck is concerned-their help is Our truest good fortune, whether we hold it such needed, and will we know be ungrudgingly given. or not, is that which reforms our short-comings, and Heads of families will give, because as men they sets our failings right.

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