scenes are, according to Mr. Vining's specia notice, still retained, though by all accounts they have been considerably modified since the first representation. We doubt if we shall summon up courage to visit the Princess's during the run of a piece which constitutes the entire performance, even were it not the degrading exhibition it is stated to be. Theatres generally appear to be doing well. The Haymarket opened with a crowded house to the "School for Scandal," as well acted as we must expect in these degenerate days. Mr. William Farren as Charles Surface received his usual compliment of being called after his exit in the fourth act. In Dublin this actor retired laden with bouquets which were thrown to him when he appeared before the curtain at the end of the comedy. Miss Nelly Moore is an improvement on recent Lady Teazles. We will not be so ungallant as to specify further. Mr. Webster has discovered an American gold mine in the person of Mr. Jefferson, inasmuch as it is announced that in consequence of that actor's success "the free list is entirely suspended." Very few of your readers may be aware of the existence of a regular theatre which is denominated "The Effingham:" it is in the classic Whitechapel Road; and thither we repaired a short time ago, to procure a curiosity in the shape of a record of a performance of "Othello" headed "5 Othellos, there being a different performer for each act, which must have had rather a strange, not to say a ludicrous effect, the difference in voice and person being no doubt considerable. We were politely allowed to take a peep at the interior, and were surprised at the size of the house and the order maintained therein. We suppose we shall not do wrong in alluding to a recent performance of Shylock by Mrs. Macready, at an East-end theatre, as the greatest dramatic sensation of the hour. Mr. E. T. Smith's advertisements are generally couched in forcible language, but the following is such a delicious morsel, that we are tempted to quote it:-" An imperative duty is due to the public to at once intimate the necessity of securing places early (thereby preventing bitter disappointment)." The italics are our YOUR BOHEMIAN, own. OUR PARIS CORRESPONDENT. MY DEAR C—, The fear of the cholera keeps the Parisians still far from Paris, and those who can are pro longing the season in the country, in spite of the cold that has at last declared itself. Every quarter in the capital has had several cases, although it seems there are more recoveries than deaths, and that, on the whole, our cruel guest is less cruel than on former visits. Of course this is the great pre-occupation of the moment, and the timid take every little indisposition for an attack of the malignant disease. At Marseilles the inhabitants kindle great fires in all parts of the town, which do much good: the flames purify the atmosphere. The town of Arles is completely abandoned: its inhabitants seek refuge from the contagion on board twenty or thirty vessels floating on the Rhone. It was said that Nice had also been invaded by the terrible epidemic; but the mayor of that town has declared that there has not been one case yet. They are expecting the King of Belgium and the Prince of Wales to winter there. Two of the Ministers of State (M. Drouyn de Lhuys and M. de Béhic) have proposed a conference in order to discover the best way of preventing the frequent returns of this disastrous malady. It appears that Constantinople will be chosen for the meeting, it being from the east that the cholera always comes to us. A commission sent out to examine the cause, think that the assembly of Mohammedan pilgrims of Djeddah and Mecca sent it to us this year their fatigue, their privations, their uncleanliness, and their mode of travelling render them apt for all kinds of distempers, and particularly for the cholera. The clerical papers pretend that it is the wickedness of the times that has brought down upon us this chastisement from God. Then, object the non-clerical papers, why are the good punished with the wicked? and why are not the Freemasons, whom the successor of St. Peter has just excommunicated, more afflicted than the rest of mankind ? It seems that the splendid funeral of Marshal Magnan, grand-master of the order in France, has greatly incensed his Holiness, and that he even gave vent to his ire against the French Government on the occasion, and received a gentle admonition from the French ambassador on it. The great homage paid to the memory of General de Lamoricière by the Romish Church, and the staunch Roman Catholic principles attributed to him by its members throughout his career, has raised a hue and cry in the press. The Opinion Nationale has ust published two letters-written by the late hero of Castelfidardo, when a young man, in Algiersletters in which he declares himself an enthusi astic "Saint Simonian." However, let his faith | through Paris en route for Belgium. These have been what it may, everyone, of all opinions, latter Sovereigns are to spend a few days at acquiesces in acknowledging that he was a brave Compiègne, on their return from England and and loyal soldier, and worthy the respect of his Germany. fellow-countrymen. A certain priest was wont to say, when speaking of the General, that he certainly loved God sincerely, but was rather too fond of invoking him. This habit of swearing, it seems, often produced a singular effect: thus, one morning at mass, when, according to the custom in the Church of St. Philbert de Grandlieu, the collector went round with the plate, on which he made the great sous sound by way of asking your charity, in one hand, and a snuff box in the other, the General gave his sou and accepted a pinch of snuff; but finding it bad, "D-ed snuff!" he grumbled. This custom of offering a pinch of snuff when collecting at church is tolerated in several parishes in the Loire-Inférieure. The parish of St. Philbert de Grandlieu spends two francs a month for the noses of the faithful. The Marquis de Bellune, grandson of Marshal Victor and brother to the Duke de Bellune, has just retired from society, and has entered the Seminaire of St. Sulpice, an establishment of young priests-a step which has very much astonished the beau monde of Paris, especially as the cause of it is unknown. This gentleman is a first-rate musician, has written novels, and several of his comedies have been performed at the Vaudeville. If the late young Duke Grammont Caderousse had re formed, and thus finished his earthly career. his family, I imagine, would have easily consented. This young madcap has, ever since he came of age, been the talk of Paris, lavishing his immense fortune on horses and women, until his family tried to have him declared incapable of directing his affairs, but in vain. He squandered his money on the infamous actress Mdlle. Sc'heinder (a woman old enough to be his mother), until his death, and has left her a large sum of money, and the rest of his fortune to his doctor, determining that his family should not have a penny of it. How sad it is to see men pass through life, not only so uselessly, but so disgracefully, when they might have done so much good in the world, and have relieved so much misery! And, alas! how many we have, resembling this poor, foolish young man! But let me turn to something more refreshing to the heart. You remember I spoke to you of the Empress's visit to La Roquette prison for young culprits? Her Majesty has had the poor children all sent from the prison into the country: they have been divided into so many parties, and sent to different agricultural establishments, where they are to remain until able to gain their own living. It is said that the Empress intends visiting the penitentiary house of Mettray, before the Court leaves for Compiègne. The Emperor and Empress returned to St. Cloud last week, just in time to see the King and Queen of Portugal, when they passed During the sojourn of the Court at Biarritz, M. Emile Girardin lost his little girl, a child of seven years old. The Empress visited the sick child, and the young Prince Imperial hearing that it was essential for her to drink, which she refused to do, wrote her a very touching little letter, begging her to try, which she did, bat died soon after. The Princess Clotilde and King Jerome had stood for her. Of course the grief is immense for the little Marie Clotilde, she being an only child. The papers have been full of words of condolence to the father, to whom the Emperor wrote also on the occasion. At the Exhibition of Insects, which has recently been closed, after a distribution of prizes, the bee attracted great attention-one in particular, the American bee (the Melipone), which has no sting, therefore easy to be robbed of its honey, which it produces in great abundance. These little creatures live in large swarms in the hollow of trees. In Mexico, they sometimes inhabit earthen hives, suspended by cords to the roofs of the houses; a small hole is made on one side, just large enough for one bee loaded with spoil to enter. At this entrance a melipore constantly stands as sentinel, and is obliged to move away every time another goes in. It has been proved by experience that the same bee wil stand sentinel for a whole day. A Monsieur Antoine, at Rheims, has also discovered a way to master bees that have stings without hurting them. There were several other curious and interesting little things that I have not room here to speak of, but what was anything but agreeable to look at were those horrid little serpents or worms that wander about the human body; it made me shudder to see them, and made my flesh all alive for an hour after. I do wish that naturalists would keep such disagreeable secrets to themselves. Apropos of naturalists, Buffon has just had a statue erected to his memory at his birthplace, Montbard; the old château that he used to inhabit, may be seen from the train by travellers going from Paris to Lyons. When Buffon was asked whom he considered great men, he replied-not even modestly"I only know five: Newton, I, Bacon, Leibnitz, and Montesquieu." Watteau, whose graceful and sunny scenes the visitors at the Louvre have 80 often admired, had also a white marble bust, by M. L. Auvray, placed on his tomb the other day, at the village of Nogent-sur-Marne, near Paris: there was a large assembly of notables from Paris on the occasion; and what rendered the scene more interesting was, that after the mass that was chanted before the monument was uncovered, a M. Watteau, grand-nephew of the painter, a simple artizan, came forward with trembling voice to thank the assembly for the honour conferred on the family. There was luncheon after the ceremony, when no end of toasts were drunk with great gusto; for toasts are as necessary after a ceremony in France as in England, in spite of what some people say. The Count of Montalembert has gone to Spain, in search of materials necessary for the continuation of his History of the Monks of the West. For theatrical news, there is not much going on yet. The Grand Théâtre-Parisian announced a new opera, "Jeanne d'Arc;" but at the first representation the heroine was taken ill, and the representation postponed, after returning the spectators' money. Monsieur Mermet, the author of "Roland à Roncevaux," is now occupied in composing the words and music of another opera in honour of the fair maid of Orleans, so that we shall have two Jeannes d' Arc; though the latter one is only to appear in two or threeyears. M. de Lamartine has just returned to Paris, from his country seat Saint Point, for the general rehearsals of his opera, at the Opera Comique, "Fior d'Alisa." Prince Chimay, grand-nephew of Madame Tallien, has notified to the director of the Théâtre Français, that he prohibits the representation of the new drama, "Madame Tallien," by Ponsard. Since the liberty has been given to the theatres, they spring up in every direction: they talk of four new ones soon opening, one to contain more than four thousand spectators. Another on dit says, that amongst the curious things in preparation for the Exhibition in 1867, is a methodical collection of specimens of all the popular costumes in France. How do you like the text of the Egyptian law, quoted by Madame Royer, one of the orators at the late congress at Berne? "Women have a right to go and come. A woman must not go out without shoes. It is forbidden to any shoemaker to sell her a pair of shoes." Madame Royer declares that it is thus with the women of the nineteenth century. I do not think that M. Dupin is of the same opinion. And so Lord Palmerston is no more? Peace to his manes! He has run a glorious career, and his enemies here, even, bow with respect to his memory. May England find as true an Englishman to replace him! Adieu! Yours, truly, S. A. LEAVES FOR THE LITTLE ONES. THE AMBITIOUS EAGLE. An Eagle, a little vain, but of an excellent disposition, one day ventured on a longer flight than usual. He was urged thereto by an apparent friend, but a real enemy, who envied him his good fortune. He alighted on a far-distant rock in the ocean; but on preparing again to fly, he found his left wing was injured. He could not think how it had happened, but probably it was owing to over-fatigue having caused him to descend too precipitately. Night came on, the next day came and went, and his sufferings grew very great. "Oh," said he, "that I were once more with my wife and children! never again would I be led into such an act of folly; bitterly do I repent, but what avails it? Here must I die, far away from all I love!" As he thus spoke he could scarcely repress a few tears; but being a noble bird, with only this one failing, he subdued the desire. Night again drew on, and morning found him still unable to fly. Had a whole brood of chickens been within easy flight of him, he could not have helped himself to one of them. "Oh," said he again, "how often has my faithful friend warned me not to be led away by a vain desire for applause! But all is past may my untimely end be a warning to my little ones to refrain from folly!" Having thus spoken aloud, he drew a deep sigh, and resigned himself to death. But he was not so near it as he imagined. He fell asleep; and not many hours had elapsed when, the sun shining with great splendour, he awoke, and found himself considerably refreshed. He was able to notice things around him, and gradually became aware of a strange sound, apparently proceeding from under the point of rock on which he lay. He hearkened attentively, and a sort of cooing was indistinctly audible. Hope began to revive within him. He turned himself round; but whether from the noise he made in doing so, or from some other cause, no further sound was heard. He determined to bear his sorrows with fortitude. He lay perfectly still; and what was his astonishment and joy, when day once more broke, to see a large object high up in the sky. He endeavoured to attract attention by fluttering his wings. It drew nearer, and Oh! moment of rapture! he beheld a gigantic Falcon! his best friend, coming to his relief. Down he came, every moment nearer; and at length he alighted on the ground close to him. They gazed on each other with delight, and the Falcon proceeded to relate how he had found out the lonely rock. He told the Eagle that notwithstanding his great goodness and kindness, he had often feared his ambition would endanger his life; that he had overheard two wicked but powerful Eagles talking together and saying they would destroy his influence for ever, that CHARLIE'S TRIALS; OR, THINGS OUT they would ridicule him, and he would thus undertake a journey beyond his strength. On hearing this conversation the Falcon had felt great anxiety; but knowing the fault of his friend he feared to speak to him on the subject, but determined to watch over him. Unfortunately, just at that time a neighbouring falcon had requested his company to a spot several miles distant, where a covey of partridges had been discovered, and thus for several days he had been unavoidably absent. What was his dismay, on returning, to find that, unknown to his loving wife and little eaglets, his friend had flown away! He made many inquiries, but when the two wicked Eagles were questioned they took to flight, saying they must attend to their own business. At length he managed to gain some information from a young Falcon to whom the Eagle had once been very kind, and thus he had arrived at the rock. "But now," said he, "what can we do? without food you cannot return." 66 Do not concern yourself about so foolish a bird as I have shown myself to be," said the poor Eagle. "Return to your loved mate: leave me to the just punishment of my folly." "Not so," said the Falcon. "Can I ever forget your kindness to me? When a cruel accident obliged me to remain in my nest, did you not bring every day the sweetest pigeons and the tenderest chickens for me and my young ones?" While he thus spoke he observed at a little distance what he at first thought was a piece of white foam, but while he looked it was withdrawn. He told the Eagle what he had seen, and the Eagle then related what he himself had remarked. Both remained still and silent, and presently a little head was seen peering out. Now the piece of ground on which they were was high above the sea on a jutting rock. The Falcon crept carefully down, and observed a small fissure, through which he could see multitudes of small birds. With great joy he told his friend; and in the twinkling of an eye several were caught and brought to the Eagle, who soon became strong and vigorous. Before long they resumed their flight; and in due time the two birds regained their homes, to the delight of all who knew them. Never again did the Eagle venture on a longer journey than he could well accomplish; and when any of the young ones boasted of his strength, he related to them the sad consequences which were near occurring from his weakness. He told it with so much humility that it failed not to effect his purpose and to turn them to the right path; and all his family grew up strong, good, and sensible. OF PLACE. BY COUSIN ANGIE. "Hang up your cap, my son," said a mother, as a little fellow ran into the house and threw that article on to the floor; "then you will know where to find it when you want it; besides it will get so dusty upon the floor." The little fellow picked up his cap, at the same time saying, "You are so particular, mother; I don't see the use of always putting away things the minute one is done using them." "You know, my son, that if we leave things, thinking, 'I can attend to them some other time as well as now,' that time quite likely will not come till either the things are injured or destroyed, by our negligence." "Ah, mother, I know you are thinking of my kite that the cat tore to pieces last week, because I did not hang it up; and of your clothes basket, that I did not bring in when you told me, and the cow tossed and nearly spoiled. I am so sorry about the basket, dear mother, I will try and put things where they belong, and mind you better too," and he sealed the promise with such a warm, loving kiss, that I am inclined to think he kept it. If the coat “Ah, Eddie, it must be that. fits, one will put it on.' I did not even think of the kite or basket. Are you in a mood for a story? If so, I will tell you of a little boy that saw a great deal of trouble, just because he would not put things in their proper places; and I think it will convince you that it will be for your own good, and for the comfort of the whole family, if you learn, while a little boy, to have a place for everything, and everything in its place." As a matter of course, Eddie was eager for the story, and was all attention. "Years ago, Eddie, when I was a young lady, I went to spend the summer with an old schoolmate and intimate friend, Kate Stanton. Kate had one brother, named Charlie, a black-eyed, full-faced, rosy-cheeked boy of a dozen years, as full of fun and mischief as ever boy could be, and with a heart as full of love and kindness as any that ever beat under a roundabout, and nothing could induce him to intentionally cause pain to a person or creature; but you will see he often did this, and suffered himself also from one bad habit. I had been there only a few days, when one morning Charlie came rushing into the sitting-room, crying out, "Oh, mother, where is my arithmetic? I can't find it, and I shall be late to school.' His mother had not seen it. Around flew Charlie, scattering books and papers. Kate and myself secured our work-baskets, holding them with a tight grasp -while his mother, interested in hunting for the missing book, never thought of hers, till Charlie upset it, scattering the contents to the four corners of the room. "Oh, Charlie,' sighed Mrs. Stanton, will you never learn to be more careful?' 1 "Mother, I am sorry I upset your basket | kept him employed till about half-an-hour before school, then he said it was too late to get his books about, and he must rest: he would go and spin his new top. Quarter to nine the academy bell rung, warning the scolars it was time to be on the move if they intended to be in good time. if you will let the things be till noon I will pick them up, but now I must find that book. Oh dear, where can it be? I shall be tardy! I do wish folks would let my things alone. I believe some one has hid it, just to plague me.' "At this moment his mother remembered where she had seen him put it the night before, and inquired, "Did you take it out of the tree when you came into the house last night?' "Oh no, I remember now;' and away went Charlie. The book was not in the tree, but he fouud it in the grass under it, its appearance not the least improved by its dew bath. Washing the cheeks in dew may improve their colour, but Charlie did not like to have the French receipt applied to his book again. "At that moment the academy bell rang for school, and though Charlie made all possible haste, the door was closed before he got there, and he was obliged to wait outside till the school was open, and tardy was written against his name. He sat down on the door-step in no very enviable mood, and, like many another, sought to put the blame upon other shoulders, and at last laid it upon the teacher." "Why, mother," said Eddie, "how could he?" "He saw the teacher close the door just as he entered the yard, and thought he might have waited for him-forgetting that he never waited for any one that was late. "Charlie began scolding to himself. This is a pretty way to use a fellow; almost shut the door in his face. I think he might have waited a minute or two, he must have seen me. My way of thinking, it was rather mean in him. To think I have been so near through the term, without a tardy mark, and here in the last week to get one. Now I shall lose the book promised me if I would not be tardy this term. Oh dear, it is too bad!' and the tears came thick and fast, and with them came a better state of feeling; for almost instantly he was ready to acknowledge that he alone was to blame, and that he had brought it all upon himself by not putting his book where it belonged. Throwing things down just where it happened was Charlie's great fault, and it often caused serious trouble. "Soon after this Mrs. Stanton called: Charlie, did you know the first bell bad rung? "Yes, mother, I am all ready, and I can go in five minutes. I am watching the clock.' "Five minutes before nine he went for his arithmetic, and you know the rest. When he came home at noon, his mother inquired if he was not tardy. He told her all about it, how angry he was, and just how unkindly he felt towards his teacher; and said he, 'I was so ashamed of it, that I almost wanted to ask him to forgive me for feeling so, though he knew nothing of it; and then to think I have lost "Robinson Crusoe," that father promised me as a reward for punctuality, only four days more of school. It is too bad!' and his black eyes were full of tears, and he felt very sad. "I am sorry for you, my son,' said his mother, and I hope you will learn a lesson from this, and put things in their places. Also, that it is not safe to play till the last minute, leaving only time to perform some duty in; something may occur to hinder you, as there did this morning, and cause trouble.' "This affair did teach Charlie a lesson, for though sometimes tempted to do differently, he always after that put his books where they belonged, when he came in from school; and he went through the next term without a tardy mark, and received the promised Robinson Crusoe.' But Charlie had many lessons to learn from that stern teacher, Experience. Only a few days after this affair, he came into the house one warm afternoon, tired and heated with playing. Taking off his shoes he left them in the corner of the front hall, and threw his hat over them, and laid himself on the sittingroom lounge. His mother, passing through the hall soon after, said, Charlie, you had better put your shoes where they belong, and hang your hat up; there's no knowing what may happen to them.' 666 'Oh, I guess nothing will happen to them; I am so tired I can't get up.' "When he reached home the night before, he found two cousins in the garden waiting for him. He was in such haste to play that he "So the hat and shoes laid in the corner, could not spare time to take his book into the and Charlie on the lounge, where he was soon house, and put it where it belonged, but put it sleeping soundly, and did not wake till called in a tree, which really took him longer; for the to tea. After tea his father went to the liverytree was small, and the book required consider-stable, and returned with a nice horse and carable 'fixing' before it wonld stay where he put it. His mother saw him at work, and kindly said, 'Charlie, had you not better bring your book into the house, and put it where it belongs? you may forget it.' "Oh no, no danger. I have to study byand-by. I am sure I can't forget it.' "But you see he did. His cousins spent the evening, and when they left it was too late, and Charlie too tired to study; and in the morning his mother had an errand for him to do, that riage to take Charlie and his mother to ride. Delighted, Charley run for his hat and shoes, but they were nowhere to be found, though mother and all the family joined in the search, looking into every possible and impossible place for them (Kate even looking into the jar of quince preserve), and he came to the conclusion that they had been stolen; for the outside door had been open during the afternoon. Yet he could not but wonder that coats and shawls were not taken too. Though Charlie could ride in |