CONSTANTINOPLE; PAST AND PRESENT. -and it looks gloomy, as if mutely sorrowing over hension of the whole affair. He dreads a Greek THE hollow tiles. However, let us regard the quarrel in whatever aspect we may, Constantinople must always command for its traditions and reminiscences the profoundest interest. It is the greatest existing historical landmark in Europe-for it is far older than the Rome of the present day. It was one of the seats of power of those magnificent Romans, who, however unscrupulous as conquerors, invariably carried into the countries they subjugated law and settled government, the arts, the sciences, and all the civilization that prevailed. It was the capital of a kingdom and subsisted for a thousand years—a kingdom that commenced in splendor and affluence, and ended its days in the midst of enfeebling luxury and chronic weaknessits invariable result. Wealth, therefore, has rather been a curse than a blessing to Constantinople: still the mind clings to it The largest open inclosure is the Hippodrome. It as a rich relic of the past. It is a glittering storehouse is at present three hundred yards long, and a hun- of historical associations-an eloquent witness of the dred and fifty wide. In it formerly stood the cele-stirring deeds of fourteen centuries. It was one of The frequent introduction of trees and shrubs some-brated group of four horses, originally brought from the earliest homes of the Christian creed; and we what relieves the monotonous ensemble; but, taken Rome, and afterwards removed to the Cathedral of are indebted to the piety of a Greek empress for the altogether, Constantinople reminds you of Shaks- St. Mark, at Venice. It still contains the grand obe-preservation of the only memorials that exist to mark peare's simile of an "apple goodly to the view, but lisk from Thebes, the broken pyramid of Constantine, the exact places of the scenes of the labors of the rotten at the core. However, as will be seen from shorn of its bronze plates, and between the two, the Redeemer. It witnessed the rise and progress of our illustration—which is an engraving from a photo- hollow, spiral brass column which once supported the that terrible power which eventually ingulphed the graphic view-the interior does not correspond with golden tripod in the temple at Delhi. The Turks Eastern Church, and threatened at one time to carry the exterior, which is both beautiful and impressive. continue to use the Hippodrome for feats of activity its fire and sword baptism of Christians to the Straits The public buildings make up this grand external both on horseback and on foot. show; and when we look at the position of Constantinople, with a sparkling sea flowing at its base, which spreads itself into splendid harbors and creeks -the mountains of Olympus in the background, the Bosphorous on the left, and Asia, with its myriads of associations, in front—and, in addition to this unrivalled topographical situation, there is overhead a cloudless sky and a dazzling eastern sun-we shall be at no loss to imagine the Turkish capital to be as imposing and beautiful as it has been described. 1 The palaces of the Sultan and nobility-but chiefly the mosques—are the structures that render the city so brilliant looking from almost any position from which it can be observed. The Seraglio is a purely But, grand as may be the outward appearance of Constantinople-commanding as its position may be, and beautiful as is the scenery by which it is surrounded on every side, we question whether, either commercially or politically, it is the Constantinople of ancient days. The diversion of the East India trade, the facilities afforded by steam, and the certain prospect of a ship-canal from the Atlantic to the Pacific, have all detracted immensely from its geographical importance. But to Russia its possession would be more valuable than all the gold in the Ural Mountains, or California and Australia together. France dreads this revolution, because France would have to contend with a new and terrible an of Dover. Since Having at last itself fallen a sacrifice to Mahommedan thirst for conquest, it has subsequently been the dumb spectator of the most stupendous events recorded in the annals of the human race. Mahomet gallopped into St. Sophia on horseback, a New World has been discovered-new modes of thought and action have been introduced among mankind-science, diving countless fathoms deep below the labors of antiquity, has changed the aspect of the world-art and literature have taken unto themselves eagle wings; and although the old dragon, war, still vexes the earth, civilization, with Christian love for a base, has presented its angel-face in every clime, and is now, with sublime devotion, conduct ing the descendants of the men of the sword and will endure as long as the globe will be permitted to round which it rolls with such unerring fidelity. move majestically between the stars and that sun shield, the lance and battle-axe, to conquests which Turkish edifice, shut out from the public by high tagonist on the waters and along the shores of the MIND. It is mind, after all, that does the work of the world: so that the more there is of mind, the more work will be accomplished. A man, in proportion as he is intelligent, makes a given force accomplish a greater task-makes skill take the place of muscles-and, with less labor, gives a better produce. If all the mechanical labor of England was performed by hand, it w require every full-grown MARIO AND GRISI. [We make no apology for publishing the following private note. Our esteemed correspondent, we fear, has relied too much on his musical dictionary, and his communication will explain much that is obscure in his criticism.-ED. NEW YORK JOURNAL.] Dear Sir: PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL. is eminently suitable. The rythmical sequences by which the composer descends in sixths, and the exquisite use that he occasionally makes of the subdominant chord, divests the music of the classic serenity by which it would otherwise have been characterized. All useless ornamentation is disregarded. The fierce resolve and subsequent agony of the heroine are expressed in simple rococo movements, changing spasmodically into rapid harmonics, and We mustn't be beat, you know. I got up the en- in the last act when the guilty woman wails her closed criticism with some difficulty. I think, how-heart out over the dead body of her son, what awful ever, that it is all right. I had a musical dictionary by me while I was writing it, and put in the technical words with a will. After all, that's what the public Give them lot's of words that they don't understand, and they fancy that the critic is an awful learned fellow. I think my criticism will take the wind out of the "Tribune." Rather! want. Yours, respectfully, sorrow is indicated in those few broken staccatos so CHIPS. VULGAR TRUISMS. IT is a wonder, when Eve went out walking, what she did without a parasol. Women are true to one another in all things but babies, and there it must be confeesed they do flatter each other a little bit. The strongest-minded woman shrinks from being caught in her night-cap. The Hen-Pecked Husband is happy enough if he were only left alone, but he generally has some kind friend, who is perpetually urging him "not to stand it." The man who hesitates between mutton and venison is lost to all sense of the Beautiful. Ask all the lodging-house keepers-there never was such a thing known in the lodging-house as a Flea! A man's ruin is never the result of his own folly it is sure to be the fault, or treachery, of some one Grisi's rendition of the part of "Lucrezia" was faultless, though I could have wished a little more allegro in her recitative. Her basso profondo notes were magnificent, and took the house by storm, while in her grand area, "Buono Giorno Signor," all the delicacy of her chest notes were apparent. But it was in her acting that I first began to be made aware of the presence of the great lyrical artiste. The Farnese Hercules is not more classic, than was the pose assumed by Madame Grisi when defying the nobles. Her head, neck and shoulders wore the pure Grecian curve for which Palladio was 80 In fashionable society nothing promotes conversaMARIO AND GRISI'S FIRST AP-renowned, and she seemed in her moments of reposetion so much as "a little music." more like a figure from the frieze of the Parthian temple, than a modern cantatrice. P. BODDY. P. S.-Could you accommodate me with the loan of one shilling, to be punctually repaid? My washerwoman has become impatient, and you are my only hope. I await your reply with anxiety. PEARANCE. P. B. NATURALLY zealous for the welfare of the "New York Journal," and knowing that certain paltry newspapers, and rival periodicals would seize this opportunity of endeavoring to show off their musical knowledge in elaborate but ignorant criticisms of Madame Grisi and Signor Mario, the most celebrated barytone and soprano of the age, I determined to lose no opportunity of competing with the critical corps on its own ground. I therefore-thanks to the liberal income which I derive from the "N. Y. J."purchased the very best seat in the house! You may wonder at this announcement, seeing that a blind and impetuous press has already coined a romance about the person who bore away the prize-seat at the trifling sum of $250. It is stated that this person is a lady who followed Signor Mario to this country consumed by an unrequited passion for the great singer. Her voice is a veiled barytone of great compass; and she makes large and effective use of the camera obscura tones. The quality of her voice is rich and expressive of intense passion. Her wailings in the last act were harrowing. Of Signor Mario, I scarcely like to trust myself to Mario's voice is a soprano, of extraordinary flexi- I no instruments were rather above pitch, though they Mr. Publisher, this is all nonsense. I am that lady. It was I, sir, who, donning for the first time an attire belonging to the gentler sex, sat in the prize seat, and listened to the airs of the opera, for which I calculated I had paid at the rate of about fifty dol-debut of these celebrated artists, though I regret On the whole, I was greatly delighted with the lars a-piece. All the rude men who came by to stare much that the generality of the daily press should at me, little imagined it was one of their own sex have made such ignorant and undiscriminating critithey were taking such trouble about; and my cisms on their performance. rival brother critics-who, if they had known of my presence would have stabbed me to the heart, for such is the reward of genius!-passed unconsciously before me. But there I sat, secure in my white enamel, and virgin charms, talking behind my fan to the King of Candy, who sat next me. P. BODDY. idea of lighting the "fire of genius." THE EARLIEST TUBULAR BRIDGE.-The "bridge of the nose." THE FATE OF UMBRELLAS.-When a person is never his own property-he "has just borrowed it carrying a cotton umbrella, it is, curiously enough, from a friend." If our own experience did not tell us a very different story, it would seem as if it fell to the fate of only cotton umbrellas to be borrowed! generally dispenses previous to dosing you with a quantity of physic! "ADVICE GRATIS."-What a chemist, or a friend, A KEY, to this advertisement would be verv ac ceptable: vise, on seeing this, to the old address, No. 11, or No. 173. Who can "Cin" be ?-and is the "lovely baby" the child of "Cin"?-and is it desirable at any time to follow the counsel of "Cin"?—and is not the "old address of "Cin" a locality to which no respectable person would think of making an application? THOUGHT engenders thought. Learn to think, and you will learn to write; the more you think, the better you will express your ideas. INACTION.-Nature knows no pause in progress THERE is a good story of an eccentric lady of unI confess-notwithstanding my prejudices in favor and development, and attaches her curse on all inacfortunately acquisitive habits, to the effect that she of Christy's Minstrels-that I was much pleased with tion.-Goethe. the performance. "Lucrezia Borgia" is to my mind THE GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL.-The Spartans, not- was on one occasion so affected by a charity sermon one of the most perfect operas that Scarfalatti ever withstanding their Doric austerity, prayed the gods as to borrow a sovereign from her neighbor, and— wrote. There is in it a deep cuisine of meaning, and to grant them "the beautiful with the good." put it in her own pocket! a hidden disclosure of the innermost springs of human tragedy that renders it unapproachable as a work of art. Humboldt. TO INTRIGUING MOTHERS.-Beware of getting your fingers burnt while endeavoring to obtain good For a sympathetic barytone like Grisi, the music | matches for your daughters. A SHOT AT THE EAST.-It is, or was till the other day, somewhat absurd to speak of the "Seat of War ;" for the War can hardly be said to have a seat while it is at a stand-still. N. P. Willis, lately published in the "Home Jour OUR TETE-A-TETE. nal," in which he touchingly indicates his hopeless WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY is coming back. He will be no longer a Newcome among us. He knows us by this time, and we know him. The fresh air of our New World soil has left its trace upon his memory. He remembered it in the Strand and in the crowded purlieus of Piccadilly. When he was sitting in his chambers writing about Baden-Baden, Lord Kew and honest Captain Jack and little Clara Pulleyn, he could not help thinking, doubtless, of the many pleasant days he passed in New York, and the jolly evenings spent among his artist friends here. The spell was strong upon him and he had to obey it; and in the fall, we shall see his spectacles and jolly countenance looming once more upon us. however, whether he will remain in New York. He himself told me that he thought he would go and live near Washington, for the benefit of his daugh I know not, ters, whom he intends, I believe to bring with him. Poor Thackeray's life has been a sad one. He inherited twenty thousand pounds at the death of his father, who was a government stationer at Calcutta, and spent it. Was hard up. Went to Paris and tried to live by painting pictures. Failed. Back to London to scribble for magazines and newspapers. Began to be known as M. A. Titmarsh in "Fraser's Magazine," and about this time married. His wife was an Irish lady, and unhappily soon developed symptoms of insanity. It is whispered, too, that Thackeray expected a fortune with her, which he never got. However that may be, she is now in a private mad-house, and he is, in his dearest hopes and warmest affections, a disappointed man. wonder that he sometimes takes a cynical view of life. No wonder that Ireland and Irish are among his prominent "hates." No wonder that every Irishman is with him a swindler, or a vagrant, and that women are cold, calculating and hypocritical. Poor Thackeray! He bought the experience which makes him so great a novelist, at the expense of everything that makes life holy ! No Withal, there is no jollier companion over a supper-table than W. M. T. He sings his own songs with peculiar gusto, and drinks his wine like a man who enjoyed it. His face, though anything but handsome, has a beaming, joyous, school-boy look about it that not even his white hair can destroy, and as he looks over his spectacles, and cackles out a joke with a rich, oily accent, one would fancy that he never had known a moment's care. When W. M. T. gets back among us, he will find all his artist friends installed once more in their studios. Hicks has just got back from Trenton Falls, where he has been finishing a picture of Mr. More and his family, which is admirably treated. Darley has returned from Schooley's Mountains in renewed vigor, and will doubtless pour out more of his graphic sketches of men and things this winter. Kensett is still at Newport, with the Howadji of Potiphar notoriety, but will soon be at his rooms in the Waverly, brimming over with those cool, woodland sketches, that hereafter will be perfected on canvas. ness of recovery. Willis, with all his faults, is a man of ability, a very graceful writer, and a delightful companion. His doctor says that he cannot live more than two years, yet meantime he is wonderfully hale and hearty for an invalid. He rides eight or ten miles every day; is cheerful, and full of relish for life, though one can see through all his natural vivacity an undercurrent of gloomy anticipation. I hope, however, to see many a lively page from his pen yet. The Century Club is regaining its members for the winter season. Gradually the cosy rooms of that pleasant rendezvous in Eighth Street are filling, and artist and author, with a sparkling of Macenases, like Abraham Cozzens and Ogden Haggerty, are gathering around the marble tables, decorated with toddies. There, goes on much talk about art. There the rich members patronize the poor artists, or try that fraternity who are rather too high-spirited to to do so, because they sometimes meet members of be patronized, and much gossip circulates from group. Clique abuses clique, and rival depreciates rival, but all good-humoredly enough, whatever sting may rankle in secret in member's bosoms afterwards. The New York Sketch Clubcomposed as it is of wealthy Know Nothings, with a sprinkling of two-penny artists, will soon commence its periodical suppers, and the Fifth Avenue members will talk of art as if they knew something about it. Apropos of literature and money, a poetess, and well-known lion-hunter of this city, whose receptions are remarkable for drowsy conversation, and imported celebrities, has lately cleared something handsome. A monied and mercantile friend of hers invested a few thousands for her so successfully as "clear to realize twenty thousand dollars profits, grit," so we may expect to see her salons newly decorated next winter, and a "cold cut," perhaps, added to the cold conversation. Barnum has actually signed an agreement with Redfield to publish his memoirs! They are written, and written too, in a perfectly candid style. He lets the public literally behind the scenes-exposes voluntarily all his tricks-explains how all his speculations were successfully put through, and involves a number of persons in the exposé, who would give thousands to be left out of it. The history of the Jenny Lind business is given from beginning to end-the original agreement published, and the thousand shifts by which her unmerited popularity was achieved, are placed in the pure daylight. Barnum is a plucky man, but it required no ordinary courage to unmask such a life of humbug. I confess I am anxiously awaiting the publishing day P. BODDY. CHESS. TO CORRESPONDENTS. C. M.-The game sent is very creditable as a specimen of dashing play; but until we get a little further advanced with preliminary instructions, we can scarcely afford room for such matter. D. E. B. (of New Orleans.)-We are pleased to hear of the contemplated organization of a Chess Club in New Orleans. As to "Bye-laws," concerning which you ask advice, we consider them a sell; and would recommend you to eschew them altogether, or as nearly so as possible. A sufficiency of subscribers to defray the expense of one or two airy and accessible rooms, and the constant attendance on play days, or nights, of some three or four sturdy players, as a nucleus, will go far to ensure permanency to the undertaking. With regard to the tools, Mr. H. Rohde, at the corner of Maiden-lane, has the best Club men made in the country. M. T.-The average of Chess play at Philadelphia, is fully equal to that of New York. A match by telegraph between the two cities, would certainly be very interesting. Can it not be arranged? The amateurs of the former place have excellent accommodation at the Athenæum. QUEENING THE PAWN One more peculiarity attaching itself to our little fiiend, the Pawn, we must not forget to exemplify before we take of him a temporary leave. Having already shown that Pawns have no retreating power, the uninitiated may be well supposed to wonder what is to become of such a venturesome member of the fraternity, as, having run the gauntlet through the enemies' forces, shall arrive at the opposite extremity of the board from which he started? The solution of this difficulty is simply that, in such event, the fortunate possessor of the Pawn is permitted to substitute in his place any superior piece, excepting a king, which he may consider most subservient to the interests of his game; EDUCATION.-Every boy should have his head, his whether Queen, Rook, Bishop, or Knight; altoheart, and his hand educated. SYMPATHY.-There is a secret drawer containing valuables in every human heart, if we only know how to touch the spring. gether irrespective of the fact, that he may, at same time, have his full compliment of pieces. board. For the reason that in by far the majority of cases PATIENT SUFFERING-That we may suffer less, let the Queen, for her superior value is chosen, this process is denominated Queening a Pawn. I know of nothing sadder than that letter from us suffer patiently.-Frederika Bremer. . CASTLING. Castling is a combined movement of King and Rook, forming, in more particulars than one, a striking exception to the ordinary principles of Chess. It can be effected but once during a game by each player, and then only under the following restric tions : In the first place, neither King nor Rook must have been previously moved. Secondly-The King must not be in check when the move is made Thirdly-There must be, at the time, no intervening piece, either friendly or adverse, between King and Rook. And, finally, no square over which the King passes must be en prise, or attacked by any adverse piece. With these provisos, the double movement of Castling is performed as follows: The Rook is placed on the next square to that occupied by the King, and the King then moved to the next square on the other side of the Rook. Consequently, in castling on the King's side, the King is played to his Knight's square, and the Rook to that of King's Bishop; and when on Queen's side, K. to Q. B. and R. to Q's square. Secretaries and other officers, or members of Chess Clubs in the United States and British North America, are requested to put us in possession of such information as will enable us to publish the times and places at which their meetings are held. Communications on all subjects of interest connected with the game, from amateurs generally, will be always acceptable; and due attention to all queries as to the Laws and Customs by which Chess play is regulated, may be at all times relied upon. IRISH EMBROIDERIES.-The effect of the British School of Design, established a number of years since under the auspices of Sir Robert Peel, has been to create a taste for works of art and artistic occupation among the people of the British Islands, and to provide a means of agreeable support for thousands who hitherto had been without employment, and often without taste or inclination to seek it. In Ireland it has created a sort of revolution among the poorer classes, a great number of whom, once idle and vicious, and without any means of support, discovered that they could work upon embroidery. The unskilled could, with a little patience and instruction, soon learn to accomplish simple work, while those who had nimble fingers and a correct eye could accomplish work of a higher finish. Now, there is one firm in this city, which expends 200,000 dollars a year for the embroidery produced in some of the parish schools and convents of Cork, Galway, Kildare, and other places. The successful introduction of this branch of the arts into Ireland, has shown that to no one country, not even to France, need the highest refinements in the way of skilful labor exclusively belong. Queen Victoria clothes her neck and arms in Irish embroidery; and it is said, that although other laces may be more expensive and magnificent, none can deserve higher praise for neatness, artistic taste and skill. As a consequence of these changes-which were first started into existence by the daughter of an Irish clergyman, named Ellis-the importation of these British manufactured goods into this country has increased to more than two million dollars. ST. FLORE. A NEW HISTORICAL ROMANCE. (FROM THE GERMAN OF HORN.) (Continued.) My God!" said Maugiron, with something like scorn, "it must have been dreadful indeed to have moved a gipsy's heart!" The old woman overheard the speech, but preserved a dignified silence. Gui testified some uneasiness at Maugiron's manner to Adelma, which he deemed impolitic and ungrateful. "She alone," he said, "can save us in this emergency, and direct us in a path quite unknown to us. Follow with a good will, Maugiron; I have the highest opinion of her fidelity." 'I don't undertake to say that," said Gui, “but I know that the diamond sometimes is concealed under the roughest exterior; and why condemn her because some of her tribe may be bad?" 66 Be content, Viole; I see you take a warm interest in the old lady, but do you not think it possible that she may, for some purpose of her own, take advantage of our position to decoy us back to Rouen ?" Adelma was at some distance, and did not hear their conversation; but now she stood still, as though to recover breath, and interrupted Gui in the reply he was about to make. "Believe me," she said, "your countrymen at Rouen are more bloodthirsty than savages. I saw the child murdered at the breast,-wives and maidens dishonored,-old men strangled,-houses plundered. I saw and I shudder as I tell you-one gray-haired man, of advanced age and venerable aspect—even the honored Marlorat-on the gallows in front of the Cathedral!" Adelma, sharply. "Sarcasm is insulting to any one-I will not remind you wherefore it is so to "Come, come, mother, don't be angry," said The gipsy could not conceal a smile at the comical manner of the gay Captain, and peace was restored. Gui then asked Adelma to explain the hint she An animated dispute then took place between the friends as to the justice or injustice of Crosé's lot. Maugiron was indignant at Condé's conduct, and called him a traitor to his country for delivering into England's power a port which commanded the Seine itself, and through that river rendered easy the way of access into the very heart of France. The old Adelma quietly listened to the disputants, but at length, in the heat of the argument, she reminded them that their voices were raised too high, and that it would be the part of prudence to continue their journey in silence. They had not pursued a straight line on the road to Orleans, as Adelma deemed it more prudent to diverge somewhat from the beaten track; and it was, therefore, under extreme fatigue and exhaustion that they reached that place in safety. The Huguenot army was still quartered there in a state of inaction, from which it needed an event like that of the reverses of their cause at Rouen to "Marlorat !" said the friends at the same moment. arouse them. The arrival at this time of the Dutch "Marlorat ?" army, under the command of D'Andelot, Coligny's "Even so; and what think you will be the harvest brother, and the brave Rodelhaussen, at length of such a deed?" "Are you going to give a political lecture, Mother?" said Maugiron. "Come, leave that, and tell us what you know of Captain Montgommeri." "Montgommeri? He who killed Henry at the Tournament ?" "The same." "I know him; he was in command. He escaped the fate which befel Captain Crosé," she replied. Maugiron was astonished at the old woman's information; but with all his joy, he could not dispel some doubts, and asked again if Adelma was sure of his safety. "Adelma does not lie!" was her indignant reply. "I tell you it was my own son-my eleventh-who rescued him." "May he be nobly rewarded!" said Maugiron; "and thou truly, mother, hast seen some service. She who gives eleven brave sons to the world, indeed, and hovers like a compassionate raven over battle-fields and scenes of slaughter, deserves some remembrance !" "Maugiron! You here?" Maugiron, who, with his companion, Gui, had assumed the diguise of a gipsy, now stepped forward. "Alas!" said he, "alas! in this digraceful disguise, and saved almost by a miracle, I and De Viole, and, as I hope to God, the brave Montgommeri, have escaped from the common sea of blood; but would to heaven I had fallen on the walls of Rouen!" The two leaders of the Huguenot party stood amazed They could scarcely believe their ears, when Maugiron related the scenes which he and Adelma had witnessed. The Admiral, although deeply moved, bore the intelligence with dignified composure. Not so Condé. He gave way to a burst of passion, and swore to hasten at once to Paris and take bloody revenge on the murderers of Marlorat and Crosé; but Coligny knew his temperament, and silently suffered his anger to evaporate. After a few moments he looked at the matter more calmly, and agreed with Coligny that the time was come for them to arise to action. Maugiron and Gui lost nothing in the opinion of their leaders. From their account of the length of the siege, and its attendant horrors, it was evident that they had made a brave and manly resistance. A few days elapsed, and Montgommeri returned, fully confirming their report; and the meeting of the three friends was hearty and joyous. When the news from Rouen spread in the Huguenot army, the bitterest indignation was excited against the Catholics. With one voice they demanded at once to be led to the field. Their generals, seeing no alternative, consented; and Coligny, whom no calamity could dishearten, was unwearied in his preparations for the attack. Condé, indeed, troubled himself but little with the details. His was a mind which was never aroused to activity except in great emergencies; and although Coligny continually urged upon him the policy of governing his feelings of revenge towards the Constable, he could not restrain his burning desire not so much to avenge Marlorat's murder, as that of Crosé, who had but obeyed his commands, and whose destruction, therefore, he felt to be a personal indignity Condé and Coligny sat in earnest consultation and insult. Henceforward it seemed as though over some letter of importance, after the arrival of every undertaking of the Huguenots was doomed to D'Andelot. The uncertainty of the fate of Rouen failure. Rouen was gone, and only Lyons and oppressed them greatly. No news of the result of Orleans remained in their possession. The English, the siege had yet reached them, and they were still with whom Condé had concluded that important flattering themselves with hopes of the success of treaty, and to whom Havre and Dieppe were ceded, the expedition, when two gipsies were announced, bringing news from Rouen, which, the servant said, could only be delivered to the Admiral or Condé. stirred them up to the life and decision in which They were at once admitted. did not fulfil their promises according to Conde's expectations. The forces which Duras led out of Guyenne were greatly weakened and scattered by the formidable Montluc; and it was only with a miserable remnant that Larochefoucault entered Or "What tidings?" said Condé, hastily, "Do you leans. But all these misfortunes failed to daunt the come from the neighborhood of Rouen!" intrepid Coligny. Cheered by the arrival of La"From Rouen itself," answered the elder," which rochefoucault and his detachment, and D'Andelot, is in the hands of the Constable." "You should not jeer at the old woman," said tify." who, after immense fatigue and suffering, had, with his 8000 German soldiers, accomplished the journey to Orleans by circuitous routes, he was determined once more to engage in the defence of his cause. Every heart seemed animated with new zeal, and the sound of rejoicing was heard in the army. Gui and Maugiron, who wished for nothing better than an engagement, shared in the feeling of satisfaction, |