Colline's coat deserves particular mention. In the first place, it was of a very positive blue, so that its owner used to say "My black coat," merely from a way he had. And as his was the only dress-coat belonging to the association, his friends had also fallen into the way of saying, when they spoke of the philosopher's official garment, "Colline's black coat." Moreover, this garment had a peculiar cut, the most bizarre possible; its very long skirts, attached to a very short waist, were furnished with two pockets, perfect abysses, in which he used to stow a score of volumes which he always carried about with him; so that his friends said that when the public libraries were closed, the literary public might apply to Colline's skirts, where a library was always open.

That day, for a wonder, the coat contained only a quarto volume of Bayle, a three-volume treatise on the Hyperphysic Faculties, one volume of Condillac, two of Swedenborg, and Pope's Essay on Man. Having emptied his portable library of these, Colline allowed Rodolphe to put it on.

"Eh!" said the latter, "this left pocket is very heavy still; you have left something in it." "True," said Colline, "I have forgotten to empty the foreign-languages pocket." He drew out two Arab grammars, a Malay dictionary, and a Chinese guide, one of his pet books.

When Rodolphe returned, he found Marcel playing at pitch-and-toss with five-franc pieces to the number of three. At first he was ready to reject his friend's offered hand, thinking he must have committed a crime to get the money.

"Make haste! make haste!" cried Marcel. "We have the fifteen francs requisite-even thus: I found an antiquary at the Jew's. When he saw my coin, he all but fainted; it was the only one wanting in his collection. He had sent all over the globe to fill the gap, and had lost all hope. So, after carefully examining my crown of Charlemagne, he did not hesitate to offer me five francs for it. Medicis pushed my elbow, and completed his explanation by a look, as much as to say, Share the proceeds, and I'll bid against him." We went up to thirty francs; I gave the Jew fifteen; here is the rest! Now let out guests come! We are in a condition to astonish them. Hallo! you've got a dress coat!"

"Collin's coat," said Rodolphe. He felt for his handkerchief, and brought out a little volume of "Manchou," which had been forgotten in the foreign-languages' pocket. The two friends proceeded to their preparations immediately. The room was put in order; a fire

The ladies were to sit in the middle. Ah, but we are short of chairs!" said Rodolphe.

Oh," said Marcel, "there are some along the wall on the landing. Let's borrow some.' "Certainly we will," quoth Rodolphe, going out to appropriate the neighbours' chairs.

The clock struck six; the friends made a rapid dinner, and hastened to light up their rooms. The effect astonished themselves. At seven, Schaunard arrived with three ladies, who had forgotten to bring their jewelry on their bonnets. One of them wore a red shawl with black spots. Schaunard commended her particularly to Rodolphe.

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"She is a very respectable person," he said; an English lady driven into exile by the fall of the Stuarts. She supports a modest existence by giving lessons in her language. Her grandfather was Chancellor under Cromwell, she says; so you must not be too familar with her."

Several steps were heard on the staircase. It was the guests arriving. They seemed much astonished to see fire in the stove. As soon as there was a score of people assembled, Schaunard asked if it was not time to take a drink of something.

"In a minute," said Marcel. "We are waiting for the arrival of the influential critic to kindle the punch."

By eight, all the guests had arrived, and the programme began to be executed. After each entertainment the company took a drink of something, nobody could tell exactly what.

About ten, the white waistcoat of the influential critic made its appearance. He only staid an hour, and was exceedingly temperate in his libations.

At twelve, as the wood was all gone, and it began to be very cold, such of the guests who possessed chairs, drew lots for who should throw his into the fire. By one o'clock everybody was standing.

An amiable gaiety reigned throughout this memorable evening, which was a nine-days' wonder in the neighbourhood. Schaunard's friend Phemy, who had been the queen of the party, used to say to her friends, “It was real splendid, my dear: they had lots of waxcandles."

MY DEAR C,

When I say that March has been an ill-fated month in "le plaisant pays de France," as Mary Stuart called her adopted country, I do not exaggerate. After having spring in February, we have had winter-cold, snowy, dark winter-in March. Add to that, rumours of war with Prussia and an alliance with Austria, great annoyances of the majority in the Corps Législatif from the attacks of the opposition, who desire to be consulted on a question before it is accomplished-not after, as in the affair of the garden of the Luxembourg, which has been diminished and changed according to Mr. Haussman's taste a good deal of money spent for nothing; and now he asks the permission of the " Corps Législatif." Several journalists and orators have been condemned for disrespect to his Majesty. But what has most excited the public indignation, is the horrible discovery at Montauban, of the wholesale murder of children by the woman Delpech. Nine poor little skeletons were found buried in her room, belonging to babies she acknowledges to have killed by pouring boiling water over their heads, and the jury found extenuating circumstances!

But such horrors are not good to dwell on : let us rather look on the sunny side of humanity, and, thank God, humanity has good sides also. There is Monsieur Paul Demidoff, who in memory of his late lamented young wife, has just established a kind of refuge for poor women whose babies and children are taken care of and instructed, while work is given to the mothers. I cannot enter into the details, but it is admirable, quite worthy of an English philanthropist. The Prince Imperial's birthday was celebrated at the Tuileries by a dinner of young gentlemen of his age. He was thirteen on the 16th of March. In the morning his cousin, the Princess Matilde, sent him a very handsome vélocépède." On his side he made a present of the same fashionable vehicle to twelve of his young friends. Vélocépèdes become more and more the rage, they are in the taste of the agego ahead! As the best comes from England, I conclude that the malady exists in London as well as in Paris.

The spring races have already commenced, and in spite of the bad weather, the fair Parisians are in numbers. A new costume is now "de rigueur:" short dress of dark or black silk, with a long train of the same added. This train surrounds the bottom of the dress when the lady reclines elegantly in her carriage, and is very much prettier than the short petticoat alone. When she alights the train is looped up by a cord passed in the waistband, on the left side, a kind of scarf mantle of the same material as the dress, and a high crown'

hat with long feathers finish the costume, and make the beauty quite irresistible. Gentlemen are expected to lose both heart and senses before the end of the season.

It is with regret I have to record the loss of the musician and composer Berlioz, of fair fame in our gay capital, as well as in foreign parts, but known in England as the husband of the tragedian, Miss Smithson, who, in 1833, directed an English theatre in Paris. Berlioz was then a young man, a musical student, who, at a representation of "Romeo and Juliette," became passionately enamoured with Shakespear and Miss Smithson, although he did not at that epoch understand a word of English; and could only follow with the aid of a translation. Both families were against the match; but when Miss Smithson became ruined and in debt, Berlioz married her, in spite of both families. She died about five years ago. His parents were greatly incensed, and would give nothing to the young couple, and although he was what we call here "a prix de Rome," he was glad to accept a place of chorist in a secondary theatre. His last work was "Les Troyens," which met with only a half success. Critics say that his compositions are very learned, but cold; some refuse him inspiration. At a festival once, where Berlioz directed his own compositions, a funeral-march rather too long began to send some of the audience into a gentle doze. A colleague of Berlioz, who was behind him, pulled him by the tail of his coat: "Friend," said he, "the cemetery, then, is at a great distance?" Berlioz was once at Vienna, organizing a concert at the old Prince de Metternich's, who was very ignorant in music. "It is you, sir," said the Prince, addressing Berlioz, "who compose pieces of music for five hundred musicians!" "That does not often happen to me. More generally I only compose for four hundred and fifty," answered Berlioz, very seriously.

Speaking of musicians recalls to my mind an anecdote of Liszt-now l'Abbé Liszt, but who was far from being an abbot at that time (ask Madame d'Agoût). He and Rubini gave a concert in a large town of France. Fifty spectators alone honoured them. The celebrated musicians could scarcely believe their eyes-they who attracted crowded rooms in Paris and London! Rubini sang, Liszt played, the audience yawned. "Gentlemen and Madam [there was one lady], I think you have had enough music: may I venture to ask you to come and sup with us?" said Liszt, in his most seductive manner. The company looked at each other; found the proposition original, and accepted. The supper cost Liszt £50, but he did not give a second concert.

The theatres have been rich in successes this

month. Three real "hits" at least. "Les blancs et les bleus" of Alexandre Dumas at the Chatelet, after much hesitation on the part of the censors, has at last been given to the public; and the "Chant du départ," which was feared would excite the good Parisians, only pushed them to "encore" it four times. L'Opera-Comique has given "Vert-vert," by Offenbach, full of gaiety and spirit. The words are a reminiscence of the celebrated poem, "Vert-vert," by Gresset, published in 1734: a graceful badinage, full of wit and playfulness. The history of a parrot brought up and educated in a convent, but who became perverted on board a ship conveying Poll up the Loire, while going on a visit to another convent.

But the most brilliant success of all is "Patrie," at the Porte St. Martin, by Sardou. The drama takes place in Flanders, under the reign of Philip II., when the atrocious Duke of Alva filled that country with horrors. The inhabitants had called to their succour William of Orange; a conspiracy was formed in Bruxelles to admit that valiant captain with six thousand men, but Dolorès' the unfaithful wife of the Count de Rysoor, one of the conspirators, to get rid of the impediment to her marriage with Karloo, betrays her husband. Karloo is a friend of the Count's, and, unknown to Dolorès, is also a conspirator. The Count finds out that Karloo has seduced his wife, but when on the point of plunging his sword into his rival's heart, he thinks of his country, and spares Karloo. Meanwhile, the patriots find out that they are betrayed, though they little expect who the traitor is. Dolorès has asked for the price of her treason a safe conduct and the life of her lover Karloo, which is accorded. The fire is lighted, and the conspirators are conducted to the stake. Karloo alone is told that his life is spared; but before parting with the Count he receives a poignard from him, which he swears to plunge into the heart of him who has betrayed their country. The Count kills himself with

the poignard, after the oath. Karloo is conducted to Dolorès, who is waiting for him in a room in the Palace, the windows of which look on the place of execution. Dalorès, palpitating with fear and criminal hope, flies to him and tells him that it is she who has saved him. Karloo, horrified at finding out who has betrayed Flanders, recoils with disgust. The enchantress folds her arms round him, clings to him, and Karloo is about forgetting his oath, when the rolling of the drums recalls to him the burning pile beneath the windows. He seizes the poignard, plunges it into Dolarès' heart, after showing her the scene, and then leaps out of the window into the flames.

The poet Longfellow has just arrived in Paris. It seems he is enchanted with the cordial reception he met with in England. I suppose we shall not be less desirous of féting one who has also celebrated the beauties of France: in fact, for the moment, Americans are at a premium-that is, the lady part: they pass for being so rich, and we have so many ruined men to provide for.

A curious decree of the Bishop of Coutance's during this last Lent: "We allow vegetables prepared with butter; but neither eggs, fish, nor meat, except in particular cases. However, the faithful may eat for their collation' small shell and other fish that, by their nature, can never become large ones!"

Why do you tell so many lies?" said a judge to a prisoner, who was trying to get out of an intricate case: have you not an advocate for that?"* Au revoir,

S. A.

*We regret that, while in the course of being printed, a portion of this letter was destroyed by fire, and the rest much mutilated.--ED.

Though the University education and examination of women is an experiment new to England, it is by no means, as some of our contemporaries have too readily taken for granted, a perfectly novel institution. It has already found favour to some extent among our transatlantic cousins, and those who are familiar with the history of Italy ought to know that at Bologna, at Milan, and at other Italian Universities, women were not only educated, but in some cases the professorial chairs were occupied by learned and distinguished creatures of the

better sex. In 1732, La Dottoressa Laura Bassi became Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Bologna, in which she had passed the brilliant days of her undergraduateship, and when she died, honoured of all as she deserved, her Doctor's gown and her silver laurel wreath were carried in funereal pomp to her grave. One of the most successful teachers of the Greek language known at any time in Italy was Clotilde Tambroni, a lady Professor at Milan University. We are by no means inclined, with some writers, to attribute the comparatively

high education of Italian women to that reverence for the gentler sex which comes naturally, we are told, from "the cultus of the Blessed Virgin," with its tendency to elevate woman in the scale of society. We, on the other hand, solve this problem, simply by pointing out the fact that the Italian language is to the old Latin very much what the Italian woman is to the old Latin matron, as we find in each the essential elements still extant.

Now, of all women of antiquity none displayed a more marked predilection for arts and literature than did the Roman. The position of a Roman matron was the very reverse of a Greek wife. The Roman presided over her whole household educated her children, and, as the materfamilias, she shared the honour and respect due to her husband. Italian women have degenerated less from the old Roman type than have Italian men, notwithstanding that their minds have been thwarted and twisted by the pernicious influences of Popery. Another solution may be found in the fact, that Italian women are more remarkable for their public than their private virtues and capacities; and a country that was once ruled by a Pope Joan is by no means a country unlikely to encourage a staff of female professors in its public Universities.

Cordially do we rejoice at the prospect now spread before the educated womanhood of this country. It is to our reproach, as a nation, that the higher education of women amongst us has declined since Queen Elizabeth harangued a University in Latin, and Lady Jane Grey wrote Greek. It is something for the Universities to put forth worthy aims and objects to those who would otherwise be aimless and objectless in their studies. It is something to encourage studies which have a marked and incontestable tendency, not only to supplement the wants and to strengthen the weaknesses of the female mind, but to add grace to its grace and beauty to its beauty. It is something to bring the heads of our girls to apply themselves to what is more valuable and during than chignons, and to subtract something of the time and attention now dissipated upon the modiste, for the purpose of investing the mind with a garment of glory and beauty which changes with no changing fashion and grows in beauty as it grows in years. It is something for our big girls to practically learn by patient study and settled plans, and a rigid economy of time, those moral and social virtues of patience, self-denial, self-restraint, regularity, and order, which go very far to make up the good woman, the exemplary wife, and the true and tender mother, as well as those intellectual excellencies, such as judgment, taste, prudence, and quickness of apprehension, which, when sanctified by religion, strengthen

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the weakness of women, and entrench her bebind a wall of adamant. Such, we conceive, are some of the social advantages which may be derived by the fairer portion of society from these University examinations. Of the literary advantages we say nothing, as these speak for themselves.

We are especially pleased to notice that Cambridge has not forgotten its duty as a Christian University in holding forth the study of the Christian religion to its aspiring candidates. Without a knowledge of God, in truth, all other knowledge is but folly. The light that leads to Heaven is verily worth more than all other lights, and sad evermore is the life voyage of him or her

"On whom there shone

All stars of heaven except the guilding one."

Knowledge and wisdom are not far apart from each other. Society has no such ally in the cause of civilization and Christianity as that of a woman, true to the innate tenderness and the purity of her sex, going forth with a richly cultivated intellect, with a disciplined mind, and a heart sanctified by the indwelling spirit of her God, to teach by the silent eloquence of a noiseless, charitable, gracious, and gentle life, the invaluable lessons of a living Christianity, to live the light and joy of her own home, and the fruitful blessing to her own generation. In conclusion, to all who seek to benefit themselves by such examinations, whether women or men, we must remind them not to rest content with making their brains temples of light, however brilliant, but to dedicate their hearts as temples to Him who has promised, if we are in Him, to dwell in us.-The Rock.

"LITTLE PITCHERS."-We do not wonder at the rapid increase of the deplored fault, under the circumstances. If you wish to cultivate a gossiping, meddling, censorious spirit in your children, be sure, when they come home from church, a visit, or any other place where you do not accompany them, to ply them with questions concerning what everybody wore, how everybody looked, and what everybody said and did; and if you find anything in this to censure, always do it in their hearing. You may rest assured, if you pursue a with intelligence; and, rather than it should be unincourse of this kind, they will not return to you unladen such a manner as shall not fail to call forth remarks teresting, they will by degrees learn to embellish in and expressions of wonder from you. You will, by this course, render the spirit of curiosity-which is so early visible in children, and which, if rightfully directed, may be made the instrument of enriching and enlarging their minds a vehicle of mischief, which shall serve only to narrow them.