diminutive dog, Busy, full as great a favourite, and never out of my lap: I have already, in case of an accident, insured it a refuge from starvation and ill usage. It is the least we can do for poor, harmless, shiftless, pampered animals that have amused us, and we have spoilt.' Touton fully justified the character formerly given of him by his behaviour upon his arrival at the Gothic villa of his new master. 'He began by exiling my beautiful little cat,' he writes, upon which, however, we shall not quite agree. flew at one of my dogs, who returned it by biting his foot till it bled, but was severely beaten for it. I immediately rang for Margaret to dress his foot; but in the midst of my tribulation, could not keep_my countenance, for she cried, "Poor little thing, he does not understand my language!" I hope she will not recollect, too, that he is a Papist.'

He then

We will conclude this paper with the sketch of another famous foreigner, the Countess of Albany, the wife of Charles Edward the Pretender, but more celebrated for the attachment which existed between her and Alfieri, to whom some allege that she was privately

married.

'The Countess of Albany is not only in England, in London, but at this very moment, I believe, in the palace of St. James's-not restored by as rapid a revolution as the French, but, as was observed last night at supper at Lady MountEdgcumbe's, by that topsy-turvyhood that characterizes the present age. Within these two months, the Pope has been burnt at Paris; Madame du Barry, mistress of Louis Quinze, has dined with the Lord Mayor of London, and the Pretender's widow is presented to the Queen of Great Britain. Well! I have had an exact account of the interview of the two queens from one who stood close to them. The dowager was introduced as Prin

cess of Stolberg. She was well dressed and not at all embarrassed. The king talked to her a good deal; but about her passage, the sea, and general topics: the queen in the same way, but less. Then she stood between the Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence, and had a good deal of conversation with the former, who perhaps may have met her in Italy. Not a word between her and the princesses, nor did I hear of the prince; but he was there, and probably spoke to her. The queen looked at her earnestly. To add to the singularity of the day, it is the queen's birthday. Another odd accident at the Opera at the Pantheon, Madame D'Albany was carried into the queen's box and sat there. It is not of a piece with her going to court that she seals with the royal arms.' He thus describes her personal appearance, rather disappointing to those who have thought of her as the idol of one of Italy's most inspired poets, and illustrating the fact that intellect, as well as beauty, is a power even when bestowed upon the weaker sex. I have seen Madame D'Albany, who has not a ray of royalty about her. She has good eyes and teeth, but I think can have had no more beauty than remains, except youth. She is civil and easy, but German and ordinary.'

Enough of foreigners!' the reader will exclaim; we would fain return to the bright bevy of English maids and matrons, who cluster like blush and damask roses in the pages from which we borrow the glow. With the permission of the courteous editor of these pages, this gallery of the portraits of wits and beauties of a bygone day will be reopened by the same showman on the first of the ensuing month, and the description resumed of the famous women who spring into life, recreated by the pencil, unrivalled in its powers of truthful and brilliant portraiture.