pelisses; the most distinguished were of || satin, trimmed at the border with tulle white satin, trimmed with grey plush silk. || builloné, which is formed in pointed fes Some, however, wore mantles of cachemire, with standing up collars. The pelisses were mostly of the wrap kind, and they had deep pelerine capes trimmed with black lace; almost every coloured pelisse was lined with white, and the white satin with rose-colour. A new pelisse has lately been sported by a very fashionable lady; it is of black silk, trimmed all round with white blond, and lined with rose-colour. Some delicate fair ones have still their pelisses trimmed with swansdown; and in coming out of the Thuilleries to get back to their carriages, or from the Theatres of an evening, they put on a pair of Chinese sabots, well lined with fur, to keep their feet from being injured by the damp. The hoods of mantles, which are worn in returning home at a late hour in the evening, continue to be lined with fur. A few white pelisses of gros-de-Naples, have lately made their appearance; they are faced with lemon or rose-colour, and the collar and cuffs are trimmed to correspond, with either of those two colours; the bust is finished with oval buttons, and a sash confines the waist, of the same colour as the trimmings. Carriage hats and bonnets are made of striped crape, with a border at the edge of two rows of double gauze cut in bias. A hat called the college student's hat, has a large tuft of satin, the colour of the hat, placed as a fastening to a plume of mara. bouts, the same as a clasp. Pink satin hats lined with white, and crowned with white curled feathers, are worn both in carriages and in the public walks. Merino dresses of Caroline colour, with a pelerine cape and mancherons on the sleeves, trimmed with a tufted fringe, are much in request. Three rows of this fringe ornament the border, separated by tassels; the corsage is made square in front, or rather in the form of an escutcheon, and is finished by violet-coloured cordon: the rest of the corsage is plain, but there is a fullness on the bust, which is in plaits, and sets off the figure to advantage. A gown of ponceau silk, with short sleeves, is much in favour for evening costume. But for dress parties nothing is reckoned more elegant than a round gown of white toous coming up to the knee, with a bow Turbans of India muslin, folded in plaits, are much admired. They are puffed out on each side like those worn by your Moorish cymbal players, and have a large flat button placed in the center. The fold next the face is of gold striped muslin, and forms a bandeau. Some are very unappropriately fastened under the chin. Little bunches of lilacs are now favourite ornaments on dress caps. Let me tell you that "ducks and drakes" ought no longer to be used as a contemptuous expression: some of our merveilleuses, we are informed, mean to place, instead of a bird of paradise plume, in their toques a superb drake's wing! A toque hat of crape and striped gauze, made high and round, is much in favour for evening parties; the hat part is turned up on the left side, and ornamented with six white feathers, one gracefully falling over the left shoulder, and touching the neck. A wreath of flowers, entwined with silver ears of corn, is the most prevailing head-dress for the ball-room. The hair on the summit of the head is twisted round in plaits to form a crown, while it covers the forehead in curls, and this is styled the head-dress à-la-Terpsichore. But the present arrangement of the hair varies; some ladies have it dressed very high, others very low, and some have short ringlets in the nape of the neck; each lady disposes her tresses in her own fashion, in the style that best becomes her face. Ornamental combs for the hair are of tortoiseshell, adorned in the center with sculpture embossed, representing flowers or medallions. Feathers, highly curled, are not only white, but rose, and other bright and striking colours, and are much worn in full dress; some are of green with gold tints, like the feathers of the peacock, flamecolour and azure with gold tints, and bright orange and gold: such are the ornaments much in favour on turbans, on the hair, and even on the trimming of dresses. The small caps that are worn as a more simple coiffure in the evening, are still in the Mary Stuart style; the border consists || of two rows of doubled bias-cut flock gauze, between which is a rose-coloured ribbon : the crown is white, with rose-coloured drapery. Mother-of-pearl fans are now all the rage; and the ribbon that unites the top sticks of the mount together, allows the fan to be turned either way to play it either from right to left, or from left to right. On some of these fans are paintings of great beauty and value. A lady of my acquaintance, who has a great mania after Roman antiquities, and yet is very romantic, is always ready to confess that love is the divinest sentiment in nature, has an anagrammatic fan, on one side of which is represented several Roman monuments, such as the arch of Septimus Severus, the Temple of Concord, with Trajan's pillar: underneath are the following four letters, ROMA; make the fan play the other way, without turning it, and you will find Cupid with all his attributes, and the same letters so disposed as to read A MOR. The mounts of some ball-room fans are of tulle, which is less liable to cut out than those of crape. Ladies belonging to the first classes now make use of no other pins at their toilet than those headed with gold or polished steel, diamond cut: as they necessarily lose a great many, in spite of all the care they take in preserving them, pin-money becomes now a more important article in the marriage contract than ever. Veils, both black and white, are very much worn, with very broad borders. Luxury daily increases among us; last spring our ladies wore their cambric dresses with a silk or velvet spencer, but now that is reckoned a costume only fit for a chamber-maid it is requisite for every lady to have morning dresses superbly trimmed with lace; satin dresses for the public walks, pelisses and mantles of the most costly materials, and for the most friendly and familiar evening parties dresses of lace or tulle over satin, and ostrich feathers are seen ornamenting the toques of our elegantes, for those of down are only worn by grisettes. One would really imagine that the present race of husbands had some good attendant genie that pays for all these superfluities. At the benefit of Michot the ladies were most splendidly attired: the turbans were chiefly of the striped gauze and gold lama, or coloured crape. Toque hats of black velvet, ornamented with long flat ostrich feathers, four or five of which passed from right to left, or if the feathers were curled one hung drooping. A new kind of dress hat has also been seen at the Theatres; it was white, with seven curled feathers, three that fell over the left shoulder, three on the right side, and one where the hat was bent down in front. The most favourite colours are Caroline and Marguerite-Caroline was formerly called Ventre de biche, and Marguerite is a very beautiful colour between a rose-colour and purple; sea-green, emerald, and marshmallow blossom, are next in requisition, MONTHLY MISCELLANY; INCLUDING VARIETIES CRITICAL, LITERARY, AND HISTORICAL. THE THEATRES. DRURY-LANE. naldo. Arsinio, exulting in the thoughts of vengeance, is desirous of immediately wreaking its fullest force, but is restrained by his anxiety for his daughter; he therefore seeks an interview with Lorenzo, in the hopes of persuading him to renounce her, and Italy, for ever! Lorenzo succeeds in compelling Arsinio and Alfiero, by threat of instant death, to commit themselves to a secret cavern, where he shuts them up, but is himself taken immediately before the Senate, to account for their sudden disap satisfactory, he is sentenced to the torture. This he despises, but is informed that Elmira is accused of conspiring against the life of her father; and to preserve her fame, he commands his friend Julio to give his accusers their liberty. Lorenzo seeks, in vain, to obtain the silence and forgive. ness of Arsinio; but the entreaties. of Elmira are more fortunate: she vows never to survive her husband, and the father relents. Lorenzo is brought in, but mercy has come too late-he has already swallowed poison: Elmira sinks broken-hearted, and her husband expires beside her. A TRAGEDY, called Conscience; or, The Bridal Night, was produced at this theatre before the beginning of Lent, the plot of which is as follows:-Lorenzo, a young Venetian of birth and fortune, has been placed, by his father's will, under the guardianship of Rinaldo, a most atrocious character, and who successively strips Lorenzo of all his property, who is defrauded of the hopes he had entertained of marry-pearance. His explanation not proving ing Elmira, the daughter of Arsinio, who is Rinaldo's brother. Rinaldo dies suddenly, and Arsinio, as his next heir, becomes possessed of all his wealth. Lorenzo still cherishes his love for Elmira, who loves him in return; but her father, entertaining an inveterate hatred against him, drives him from his presence, and commands his daughter to receive a more wealthy suitor. By the contrivance of Rodolpho, a stolen interview takes place between the lovers, which is followed by a private marriage. Elmira implores her father's forgiveness, but is repulsed with curses. She retires with her husband to a place of refuge, provided for them by his friend Julio. They are surprised by robbers in a wood, and Elmira is borne to a cavern, where she is followed by her husband and her friend, who resolve to rescue her, or perish. A desperate conflict is about to commence, when the Captain of the robbers recognizes Lorenzo, and commands his party to abstain from violence. Lorenzo displays considerable agitation at being claimed as an acquaintance; when the robbers are surprised by a body of soldiers, and all lay down their swords. Alfiero, in a solemn and threatening manner, requires Lorenzo to spare their lives. Julio, for his friend's sake, undertakes to intercede for them with the Senate, but is refused admittance into the Senate-house; and Alfiero is about to be led to execution, when he announces that he is possessed of an important secret, and prays permission to reveal it to Arsinio. To him he relates, in private, that Lorenzo had poisoned RiNo. 147.-Vol. XXIII. This piece has in it much nature, and almost every line of it speaks to the heart. The character of Elmira comprises all that is sweet and amiable in woman: and when we are credibly informed that this is a first attempt, we cannot sufficiently praise the genius of the author, to whom it seems scarce to have cost an effort. In short, we place this tragedy among the best of the present day. COVENT-GARDEN. THE Oratorios commenced at this theatre the first Friday in Lent, under the direc tion of Mr. Bishop. The selection was made from the best sources, and was skilfully diversified. The music does credit to Mr. Bishop. Miss Stephens sang, with her usual success, the Allegro, from Han. del; and If o'er the cruel tyrant Love, from the opera of Artaxerxes. Miss Povey sang two solos with great applause. The chief male singers were Messrs. Vaughan and Kellner, who sang with talent and good taste. We must not omit to mention the || child, The Colonel, more experienced, first appearance, in London, of Miss Warwick; she manifested more cultivation than voice, arising a good deal from her embarrassment, which was quite apparent. EUROPEAN SALOON. We are happy to say that Miss Macauley has returned to town, and is about to commence a series of entertainments at the European Saloon, King-street, St. James's, in which, we have no doubt, her admirers will find great attraction. The versatility of her powers deserves all the praise which they have received. We sincerely wish this lady success in all her efforts. FRENCH THEATRICALS. THEATRE FRANCAIS. Le Mari et l'Amant (The Husband aud the Lover); a comedy, in one act. The principal character in this piece is a Colonel of about twenty-six years of age, who is come to Paris to dissipate the ennui that he endures in the society of a charming country girl, to whom he has been married about six months: next is a youth who accompanies the Colonel to the capital, although he is enamoured, in his native town, of a cousin, towards whom, to the great scandal of the Colonel, his mentor, he boasts of having been always timid and respectful: and what is more, the wife of the Colonel, weary at the long absence of her husband, follows him to Paris, arrives there, and puts up at a furnished house where he lodges, and makes her débût, on the first evening of her arrival, by a visit to the Opera. Here she meets Ernest, the young friend of her husband. Ernest falls passionately in love with Madame St. Leger; and such is the result of the masked ball. Ernest makes a confidant of St. Leger, and discovers his passion to him, and the happiness that he has of lodging, as well as his friend, under the same roof with the beautiful stranger. St. Leger, who little thinks his wife is so near, or of suspecting that she is the heroine of this adventure, encourages Ernest in his amatory projects; and, like Telemachus, he is so scrupulous and circumspect, that he is almost like a instructs Ernest in all that he is acquainted with himself, and determines him to carry his point: he does more he wishes to be an invisible witness of the first interview between the new lodger and his friend.— The interview takes place: and, concealed behind the door, St. Leger overhears every thing, whispers to Ernest the replies he ought to make, and determines him at last to venture to kiss the hand of the unknown. The affair is in this train (thanks to the officiousness of the husband), but it is not all; a carrying off, according to the earnest advice of St. Leger, is on the point of taking place; but a confounded porter has overheard all, and a corporal of the National Guard, who lodges in the house, is charged to depose against all he finds guilty. This brings about the dénouement: Madame St. Leger discovers herself, converts her husband, and the lover returns to his cousin in the country. The marriage of a valet and a waiting-maid helps to conclude the piece; which is successful, because there are in it many sprightly incidents; yet it is certainly more adapted to the Theatre de Vaudeville than to the Theatre Français. SECOND THEATRE FRANCAIS.-Voyage à Dieppe; a comedy, in three acts. Three young men, Monbray, D'Herigny, and Lambert, have escaped from the gluttony of Shrove Tuesday, to breathe the fresh air at the door of a spacious saloon of the Boulevard de la Salpêtrière; while twenty or twenty-five jovial fellows, belonging to their society, are stifled in an apartment where a hundred covers are laid. One of the most giddy of the three, Monbray, in order to finish the day in a proper manner, lays a wager he will get hold of one of those honest citizens, whose simplicity of manners has long been the subject of general satire. The wager is accepted, and at that very moment a favourable opportunity presents itself. M. D'Herbelin, a tradesmau retired from business in the Rue Bouffon, is a man of that soft and pliable mould that he is ready to receive any impression that a mischievous stranger may think proper to make on him: he quits home, full of his intended excursion; and repeats, to the very echoes, the pleasure that he promises himself, and that which he has contrived for Madame and Mademoiselle D' Herbelin. All of them, in the course of the day, are to set off for Dieppe. This is not all; he has learnt that a merchant, M. de St. Valery, whom he does not even know by sight, but with whom he has transacted business, will go the same day, to the same place, in his own berlin. || It is on these indiscreet confidences that Monbray builds the hope of gaining his wager. He introduces himself to M. D'Herbelin, under the name of M. de St. Valery, and offers three places in the carriage to the family: in one hour they will be on their road to Dieppe. It is so pleasant to travel post! M. D'Herbelin makes, without a murmur, the sacrifice of the earnest he has given to the Flying Diligence. An hired coach makes its appearance; a servant, in the disguise of a postillion, who has received his pay and his instructions, is charged with the conveyance of the travellers. They set off, the night is dark, but the journey is only twelve or fifteen hours long. They travel all night,|| and at length daylight appears; when they find themselves in the Rue Charlot, opposite the Caffé Turc, in the house of D'Herigny; who, for some time, has had the design of obtaining the hand of Mademoiselle D'Herbelin, and reckons on this circumstance to forward his plans, and to gain the favour of her parents. Fatigued with his journey, M. D'Herbelin goes to bed; but scarce has he lain down for a few hours, than his impatience to behold the sea snatches him from the arms of Morpheus. As the air of Dieppe is much keener than that of Paris, as the neighbourhood of the sea causes an appetite very early in the morning, M. D'Herbelin cannot think of taking a walk on the Mole till he has eaten some of those prime oysters, which are so superior to those of the Rocher de Cancalle. The breakfast does not wait for him; and the oysters, and the oyster-woman at the corner, are not spared. When the rage of hunger is appeased, M. D'Herbelin slips out to get the first view of the sea: a minute afterwards he returns in a violent passion; he has recognised the Rue Charlot, the Caffé Turc, and the Boulevard du Temple: the good man's fury is expressed in a manner so truly comic as to convulse the house with laughter. A friend to both parties, a sensible and rational man, undertakes to appease the wrath of M. D'Herbelin; and Mademoiselle D'Herbelin marries D'Herigny, who is made but too happy, by gaining such a prize, in paying Monbray his wager. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. Scheming; a Novel. Loudon 8 vols. 12mo. We hope we shall not incur the imputation of ill nature, when we say that we look on a well written satirical novel among the good things of this life; and that general satire, which does not wound individually, but only lashes the follies of the times, has a moral, more than a malevolent end in view. Such is the novel before us; highly amusing, and a work that must provoke the risible faculties of the most cynical. The schemers are numerous, from the fashionable Lord Montrevor, and the Honourable Mrs. Brayforth, the army surgeon, M'Setill, Major Brayforth, and a host more of adventurers, down to the Misses Philander, who are, indeed, a host of schemers in themselves, though easily seen through. In a novel there must be a hero and a heroine: there is much originality in making Lord Montrevor the hero of these volumes; we were not prepared for such an agreeable surprise; his scheming consists · in making himself the most disagreeable votary of fashionable notoriety, in order to disgust a very sensible and amiable female, Lady Elizabeth Palmer, unfor tunately plain in her person, to whom a clause in his father's will has obliged him to offer himself, and he has no hopes but in her positive refusal, In the mean time he would wish to appear every thing amia ble in the eyes of the lovely Miss Marsden, our heroine, but dare not: the developement of this scheme, is, after being well conducted through the volumes, extremely interesting. There is very little indeed of the penseroso in this novel; but the laughable incidents are numerous; the false spelling of the Honourable Mrs. Brayforth is very |