MADAME RONZI DE BEGNIS.

Perhaps no performer was ever more enthusiastically admired than Ronzi de Begnis. Her beauty came on the spectator at once, electric and astonishing. You did not study her, nor trace out feature by feature, till you grew warmed into admiration; one looked fixed. Her personal perfection took the more sure hold, because it was not of the ordinary stamp. Her features, but not her complexion, were Italian. The characteristic of the latter was a fairness so perfect as to be almost dazzling, the more so, because so palpably set off by the glossy blackness of her hair. Her face was beautiful and full of intelligence, and made almost eloquent by the incessant brilliance of her eyes, large, black, and expressive, and in which the playful and the passionate by turns predominated; either expression appeared so natural to them, that it seemed for the time incapable of being displaced by another as suitable and as enchanting. Her mouth was so delightfully formed, that she took care never to disfigure it, and whatever she sang, she never forgot this care. Her figure, if a thought more slender, would have been perfect; perhaps it was not less pleasing because it inclined to exceed the proportions to which a statuary would have confined its swell. The form, when at rest, did not seem a lively one, but when in action, it appeared perfectly buoyant, so full of spirit, so redundant with life. The exquisite outline of her swelling throat, pencilled when she sang with the blue tinge of its full veins, admitted of no parallel-it was rich and full-ineffectual terms to convey an idea of its beauty. But to be thought of justly she must be seen.

The remuneration given to this attractive performer, for the part of the season in which she performed, was six hundred pounds. Her vivid delineation of comic characters made her the best artiste in the opera buffa I have known. And much as may be said of her beauty, more, much more, may be said of the talent of a performer, who was alike able effectively to sustain the characters of Fatima, in Il Turco in Italia, Agia, in the Mosè, or Pietro, and Donna Anna, in Giovanna. In the first, her beauty, gaiety, and that little touch of the devil so exquisite and essential in a comic actress, were almost too bewitching; but admiration

was blended with astonishment, when the representation of the coquettish Fatima, changing her walk, exhibited with a life and force that spoke to the soul, the wretchedness of the bereaved Donna Anna, when, in thrilling accents of despair, she calls on her dead father, and invokes her lover to avenge his fate.

It has so happened, that the very walks in which Ronzi was most singularly adapted to charm have, by coincidences as peculiar as unfortunate, never been fully open to her. Camporese, qualified by nature to sustain comic as well as serious parts, was too jealous of her station as prima donna absoluta to suffer a rival nearer her throne than was unavoidable. Camporese disappeared, but causes, similar in nature and operation, have too often debarred Ronzi from opportunities of displaying her talents to the utmost advantage.

APHORISMS BY WILLIAM GASPEY.

Departed friends are as gems whose setting is in the tomb, but whose full resplendency is not seen till they glit ter in the diadem of the Eternal.

The broken-hearted are not friendless; in their extremity of sorrow, hope brings to them the cypress wreath which is the passport to death's peaceful domain.

Farewell is a word never uttered in heaven, but the occasion for it in this world is the source of our most bitter affliction.

The only flower not indigenous to earth is love; for a season its leaves may look green, and its blossoms wear the hue of spring, but too soon it withers in the uncongenial soil, and of all that was, memory alone remains.

Men take opinion for their guide, without testing the value of its services.

The church-yard is the mirror of change; and the instability of all that change effects is reflected in its memorials. When Jesus wept over the tomb of Lazarus, his tears were the dew drops of salvation.

LONDON FASHIONS AND NOVELTIES.

LONDON EVENING DRESS.-Organdy robe over white gros de Naples; the border is trimmed with three bouillons, through which rose ribbon is drawn; tunic of the same material; the corsage is low, square, and very slightly drooped at the shoulders. Short tight sleeves, with a mancherons of the half-mameluke kind, decorated with nouds de page. The tunic is trimmed round the border with a bouillon, edged with a fall of lace. The hair is disposed in full clusters of ringlets at the sides, and a crescent bow placed very low behind. Gerbes of roses with their foliage are placed in the ringlets.

LONDON PUBLIC PROMENADE DRESS.-Pea green gros de Naples robe; a low corsage drooped horizontally, and Victoria sleeves. Mantelet of black filet de soie, trimmed with the same, is an antique pattern; the mantelet is made rather low in the neck, round which it is drawn by pea green ribbon; it is of a large size, and very full trimmed. Drawn bonnet composed of white filet de soie, the crown is lined with white gros de Naples, the brim is transparent, edged with a ruche of the same material, and drawn with pale pink ribbon. A ruche, a plat, and knots of ribbon adorn the

crown.

REMARKS ON THE PREVAILING LONDON FASHIONS.

This is the season in which fashion allows to her fair votaries more than usual liberty, for the light robes of summer, without entirely superseding the demi saisons costume, frequently mingles with it. Let us see then what the watering places afford us of what is most recherché of both to present to our fair readers.

Morning bonnets continue to be of the drawn kind, but we observe that transparent ones are but little seen, even on warm days; those of white and straw-coloured gros de Na ples are very numerous, and the pretty French cottage bonnet of rice straw retains all its vogue. The trimmings for silk bonnets have not altered, but we do not see so many decked with early fruits as last month; flowers appear more in faAll the smaller flowers of the early part of the season are fashionable, but the vogue of roses exceeds all others; we

vour.