ous stories about a sort of second sight; especially of a Princess of S who was, I believe, connected with the House of Saxony. It is the custom among them to allow the bodies of their deceased relations to lie in state, and all the members of the family go to look at them. The Princess was a single woman, and not young. She had the faculty, or the curse, of always seeing, not the body actually exposed, but the next member of the family who was to die. On one occasion a child died, she went to the bedside and said, 'I thought I came to look at a branch, but I see the tree.' In less than three weeks the father was dead. The Grand Duke told me several other instances of the same kind. But this faculty was not confined to deaths. A gentleman whom the Grand Duke knew and named to me, went one day to visit the Princess. As soon as she saw him she said, 'I am delighted to see you, but why have you your leg bound up?' 'Oh,' said her sister, Princess M 'it is not bound up; what are you talking of?' 'I see that it is,' she said. On his way home his carriage was upset and his leg broken.

"I was saying that the Italians would not learn German. Madame de Ssaid, I perfectly understand that; I had a French bonne, and when a child spoke French better than German. When the French were masters in Germany, M. de St. Aignan was resident at the court of Weimar. He and other French officers used to come every evening to my mother's house. I never spoke a word, I never appeared to understand a word. When the news of the battle of Leipsig arrived, M. de St. Aignan escaped through our garden. I was alone when he came to ask permission, and I answered him very volubly in French. "Mais, mademoiselle," said he, astonished," vous parlez le Français comme l'Allemand. J'ai toujours cru que vous n'en comprenez pas un mot." "C'est que je n'ai pas voulu," replied I.' "This in a young girl who talked well and liked to talk, shows great resolution, and is a curious proof of the strength of the hatred of French rule.

"I went to see Figaro's Hochzeit, not Le Nozze di Figaro. If you have a mind to understand why the Italians can never be reconciled to Austrian rulers

go to see Figaro's Hochzeit. A Herr Dettmer, from Frankfurt, did Figaro, a good singer, I have no doubt, and not a bad, i.e., an absurd, actor. But Figaro, the incarnation of southern vivacity, espièglerie and joyous grace! Imagine a square, thick-set man, with blond hair and a broad face, and that peculiar manner of standing and walking with the knees in, the heels stuck into the earth and the toes in the air, which one sees only in Germany. I thought of Piuco, a young Maltese, never, I believe, off his tiny island-whom I last saw in that part. I saw before me his élancé and supple figure, his small head clustered round with coal-black hair, his delicately turned jetty moustache, his truly Spanish costume, the sharp knee just covered by the breeches tied with gay ribbons, and the elastic step of the springing foot and high-bounding instep. What a contrast!

and what can Art do against Nature in such a case? Then the women; I had seen Ronzi de Begnis in the Countess. What a Countess! What a type of southern voluptuous grace, of high and stately beauty and indolent charm! Imagine a long-faced, lackadaisicallooking German woman, lean and highshouldered, and with that peculiar construction of body which German women now affect. An enormously long waist, laced in to an absurd degree, and owing its equally extravagant rotundity below to the tailor. 'Happy we,' says Countess Hahn-Hahn-who, with so many ells of muslin or silk, can have a beautiful figure.'

"The Susanna was a pretty waitingmaid. How far that is from a Spanish Susanna, it is beyond me to say. Cherubino was the best, but he was only an espiègle boy playing at being in lovenot the page whose head is turned at the sight of a woman. Then the language!

"After all, how immensely does this inaptitude of Germans to represent Figaro raise Mozart in our estimation; for he had not only to represent, but to conceive the whole-and what a conception. The sweet breath of the south vibrating in every note. Variety, grace, lightness, passion, naïveté, and, above all, a stately elegance which no one ever approached. His Don Giovanni and his Almaviva contain the most courtly, graceful, stately music that ever was con

ceived; and nothing like it was ever conceived. Only the real grandee, courtier, and fine gentleman could express himself so.

"Now, as a set-off, I must say what Germans can do, and what I am quite sure we English cannot in these days.

"I went to see Schiller's Braut von Messina. I expected little. The piece is essentially lyric rather than dramatic. The long speeches, thought I, will be dull, the choruses absurd; the sentiments are pagan. What have Spanish nobles to do with a Nemesis, with oracles, with a curse, like that on the house of Athens-with sustained speeches, the whole purport of which is incusare Deos? "Well, I was wrong. In the opening scene, Mademoiselle Berg has to stand for a quarter-of-an-hour between two straight lines of senators and to make a speech-rien que cela! Can anything be more difficult? Yet such was the beauty of her declamation of Schiller's majestic verse, such the solemnity and propriety, grace and dignity of her action, that at every moment one's interest rose. Her acting through the whole of this arduous part gave me the highest idea of her sense and culture. Tenderness and passion were nicely proportioned to the austere character and sculptural beauty of the piece. I cannot at this moment recollect ever to have seen an actress, French or English, who could have done it as well. Mademoiselle Rachel, with all her vast talents as a declaimer, would have been too hard for the heart-stricken mother.

"Emil Devrient's Don Cesar was quite as good. His acting in the last scene, where Beatrice entreats him to live, was frightfully good. The attempts at paternal tenderness, instantly relapsing into the fatal passion, ignorantly conceived, made one's heart stand still. And yet such was the extreme delicacy of his art, one felt none of the disgust which attends every allusion to such love. One saw before one only the youth vainly struggling with the hereditary curse of his house-the doomed victim and instrument of the vengeance of an implacable destiny.

"Anything more thoroughly heathenish than the play I cannot conceive, and I much question if an English audience

would sit it out-on that score-not to mention others. We should find it our duty to be shocked. The audience last night was thin; those who went were probably attracted by Schiller's name, and knew that such "horrid opinions" once existed in Greece, and that a poet imitating Greek tragedy might represent Greek modes of thinking. In short, we did not feel ourselves the least compromised by the Queen of Sicily's attack upon the gods-nor the least more disposed to quarrel with our fate.

"The Chorus is, as in duty bound, versöhnend (conciliatory). The amount of the comfort, it is true, often is, 'It can't be helped;' but even this is so nobly and beautifully expressed that one is satisfied. The Chorus has every imaginable claim to be a bore. They deal in good advice, moral reflections, and consolation of the new and satisfactory kind above mentioned. Yet so great is the majestic,, harmonious, composed beauty of Schiller's verse, so much greater the eternal beauty of truth and virtue, that the old men's words fall on one's heart like drops of balm, and one feels calmed and invigorated for the struggle with life. The Chorus spoken, and in parts by all the voices at once, can never have a good effect-but somehow or other cela allait. Such are the triumphs of the true poet and artist.”

The following anecdote dates from before the Russian emancipation :—

"The Archbishop of Erlau told me that at the time the Russian troops were stationed in Hungary, he and another gentleman were walking in the streets of

and suddenly heard a woman cry out. In a moment she ran into the street exclaiming that a Russian soldier had robbed or was about to rob her. Such complaints were very frequent and sometimes unfounded. The soldiers could not make themselves understood, and took up things without meaning to rob. Be that as it may, two Russian officers were passing and heard the woman's story. They instantly collared the man, threw him down on the pavement, and, without making the smallest inquiry into the facts, they then and there spurred him to death. This, said the Archbishop, I saw, with infinite horror and disgust."

Here we have a story which, though not absolutely new, is too good to be omitted:

"Dr. F― told me the following story of Voltaire, which I never met with before. Voltaire had for some reason or other taken a grudge against the prophet Habakkuk, and affected to find in him things he never wrote. Somebody took the Bible and began to demonstrate to him that he was mistaken. C'est égal,' said he, with an air of impatience, Habakkuk était capable de tout!'

"Two days before we left Dresden, as I was dressing to go out, Nannie, my maid, came into my room and said two ladies wanted to see me. She said she had never seen them-they said I did not know them. I sent to say that I was sorry but I could not receive them, as Madame de S― was already waiting for me. Nannie came back with the answer that they would wait in the anteroom-they only wanted to speak to me for a moment. Annoyed at being forced to commit a rudeness, I hurried on my gown and went out. In the anteroom were a middle-aged lady and a young one. I broke out into apologies, &c., upon which the elder lady said, in German, Pardon me for being so pressing. I only wished to give my daughter strength for the battle of life.' I was literally confounded at the oddness of this address, and remained dumb. It seemed her daughter wished to translate from the English. After a short explanation she turned to her daughter, and pointing to me, said, 'Now, my dear, you have seen the mistress, so we will not keep her any longer.' And so they went. I threw my self into a chair, and, alone as I was, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. This is as good a piece of Germanism as is to be found in any novel. Even my Dresden friends thought it quite amazing.

"Dr. Waagen and I were talking of the danger of disputing the authenticity of pictures. I said I had rather tell a man he's a rascal than that his pictures are copies. Yes,' said Waagen, 'I always compare a man, the genuineness of whose pictures is attacked, to a lioness defending her young.'

We afterwards came upon intercourse

with princes. Waagen said, Wilhelm von Humboldt, who was a great friend and patron of his when a young man, once said to him-' My dear friend, your position will probably bring you into frequent contact with royalty. Take one piece of advice from me; always regard them as wild beasts in cages, and the courtiers as keepers. You see how noble and gentle and beautiful they look. But if you begin to put your hand through the bars and play with them, then you'll feel their claws and fangs. Always ask the keepers first what sort of humour they are in.'

"Countess H——, wife of the Mecklenburg Minister, a Rubens beauty, and a very good-natured woman, told me she was invited to a grand dinner party at V-- to meet an English great lady. The hour was five. After everybody waiting till six, the hosts determined to sit down. Some time after dinner was begun, Lady came in. The hostess began to regret, hoped nothing had happened, &c.

666

Non, madame, c'est que je n'avais pas faim,' was the refined and graceful reply.

66

At a dinner party we were talking of Niebuhr, Varnhagen von Ense's article, &c. They spoke of his arrogance and caprice, which they said he had in common with all Holsteiners. He was much disliked by the Germans at Rome, partly for these qualities, partly for his parsimony and want of hospitality.

"Herr von Raumer said-'I went to his house one evening, and we nearly succeeded in boiling some hot water for tea, but not quite.' Niebuhr told him that it was a serious thing to associate with Amati the Roman archeologist, because he frequented a certain winehouse called the Sabina, where the wine was dear. Amati was keeper of the Chigi library, and held a post in the Vatican. His learning and judgment were universally acknowledged. was particularly well known for his transcription and collation of codices, and a man whom any one might be proud to know.

He

"When the late King was at Rome Niebuhr did the honors so badly that the King was quite impatient. He showed him little fragments of things in which he could take no interest, and

none of the great objects. One day Niebuhr spoke of Palestrina. 'What is that? said the King. 'What, your Majesty does not know that?' exclaimed Niebuhr in a tone of astonishment. The King was extremely annoyed, and turning round to some one said, 'Stuff and nonsense; it's bad enough never to have learnt anything, without having it proclaimed aloud.'

"Niebuhr's ideas about his own importance, and his excessive cowardice were such, said B, that at the time of the Carbonari affairs, he actually wrote home to the Prussian Government that the whole of this conspiracy was directed against himself.

'In the steamer from Mainz to Bonn was-inter alios-an individual of the genus Rath. He sat opposite to us at dinner on the deck, and first attracted my attention by the following reply to his neighbor, a man who appeared to entertain the profoundest admiration for

him. 'Oh, yes, there are lots of theorists in the world, only too many. I represent den gesunden Menschenverstand (sound common sense).' Delighted at this declaration, I raised my eyes and saw a face beaming with the most undoubting self-complacency. He went

on to detail certain schemes of his for the good of his country-Oldenburg, as it seemed. My husband began to interrogate him about Oldenburg, and I said all I knew of it was from Justus Möser. The worthy Rath looked at me amazed, and said this was the first time he ever heard Justus Möser mentioned by a lady. I said so much the worse, there is an infinity of good sense in his writings. Yes, but he never expected to hear of his being read by a lady, and that I was evidently the second representative of sound common sense in the world, worthy to be my disciple,' added he with emphasis.”—Macmillan's Magazine.

RECENT telegrams from India told us that, in addition to large numbers of poor employed on various relief works, there was more than a million of people still receiving charitable relief, and further that the prospects were still bad in Madras.

It is hard to realise the intensity of misery that is condensed into this brief report, or to understand what a terrible state the country must be in before so many thousands have been reduced to that abject stage of suffering, which has compelled them to seek for help at the charitable hands of Government.

Famine is unfortunately of late years no novelty in India, so that many of us, whose lives are spent there, know from hard experience how awful the calamity now impending over India is; and possibly a short account of the personal experience of one official, telling what was done and suffered a few years ago in one district, may be useful in showing how great the difficulties are that have now to be encountered, and what vast efforts to save life are necessary.

It must be remembered that this account only refers to one district where the famine, as it now does, spreads over

large areas, the difficulties of dealing with it satisfactorily are immeasurably increased. Misery is in no degree lessened by being wider spread, and all the various episodes of suffering are multiplied to an unlimited extent.

In 1868-69 many districts of the Central and North-west Provinces suffered severely from long-continued drought and its after-effects. Fortunately the area thus affected was limited, so that Government was able in great measure to cope with the enemy and ward off many of famine's worst attributes; still, even when Government does its utmost, the areas to be suplied are so vast, and the numbers so unwieldy, that the sufferings of the masses cannot but be terrible. In the year 1866 to 1868 the Jubbulpore district was peculiarly unfortunate. In one year the rainfall was slight, so that but a poor crop was gathered; in the next the rainfall was so heavy that almost all the grain sown in the rainy season was destroyed; in the third year the rains failed altogether. Where as a rule sixty inches of rain fell, in 1868 there were not more than twenty-five. In consequence all the rice and millet crops-the staple

At that time Jubbulpore was much more cut off from the world than at present now the main line of the Great Indian Peninsular Railway has its terminus in Jubbulpore, where it is met by a branch of the East Indian Railway from Allahabad. In 1868 the first of these lines was in course of construction, and thus not available for the transport of grain. The famine affected the neighboring districts on both sides, though not as much as Jubbulpore itself; still little assistance could be obtained from them, while in the native states to the North-Rewah, Punnah, Myhere and others-the distress was equally great, and the arrangements for relief not so good. In consequence the difficulties of the officials were very greatly enhanced by the streams of emigrants which poured into our relief camps on the first whisper of Government aid to the distressed being bruited abroad. The East India Railway from Allahabad to Jubbulpore was open, but grain was so scarce in the North-west, and prices ran so high there, that it hardly paid private speculators to import by rail. At first the markets were scantily supplied through the local merchants, but as this was the third year of trial, the existing stock in the hands of the better classes of land-owners was soon exhausted, and grain had to be imported by rail from Patna and other places where fortunately it was procurable at reasonable prices. From the terminus at Murwarra, in the absence of carts, it was conveyed to the various relief centres on pack bullocks, which fortunately were that year available. Inland carriage is always a serious difficulty in these emergencies, for in the rains the roads are quite impracticable for wheeled conveyances of any

sort.

The famine was at its worst from March to July 1869; but pressure had begun to be felt as long before as November 1868, when it was seen clearly that all the wet crops had failed through want of rain. The population of this

As soon as it was fairly understood how grave the situation was, every effort was made to meet the difficulty. The Chief Commissioner of the Provinces gave the district officials authority to act to the best of their ability to save life; he also authorised suspension of the Government demand for revenue wherever such was found to be desirable. He himself visited the most distressed part of the district, and after 'inspecting the various measures for relief gave permission to draw on the Government Treasury for such sums as were found to be absolutely necessary to save life and suffering A commencement was first made by converting police posts into centres of relief. This was done very early in the year. When the police officer on his tour found that the poorer classes were even then beginning to fail, he supplied his subordinates wtih funds and directions to succor the distressed wherever it laid in their power. The village watchmen and the proprietors generally were ordered to report at once to the police, or to district head-quarters, the existence of all such distress as the village community could not allay of itself. Schoolmasters and village accountants were employed in the same service; and finally twenty-seven relief camps were opened for such poor people as had nothing. The Government was most liberal: relief works were opened throughout the localities where. the distress was most prevalent; and for people who could not work either on account of age, illness, or suffering through their privations, huts were set apart and attendants to minister to their wants.