O! small the tribute, were it weigh'd
With all she feels-or half she owes!
But noble minds are best repaid

From the pure spring whence bounty flows.

P. S. The little bearer begs a kiss

From dear papa, for bringing this.

"I need not, I think, tell you, the little bearer begged not in vain. The king was extremely pleased. He came into a room belonging to the princesses, in which we had a party to look at the illuminations, and there he stayed above an hour; cheerful, composed, and gracious! all that could merit the great national testimony to his worth this day paid him."

A ROYAL READING PARTY.

"In one of our Windsor excursions at this time, while I was in her majesty's dressing-room, with only Mr. De Luc present, she suddenly said, 'Prepare yourself, Miss Burney, with all your spirits, for to-night you must be reader.'

"She then added that she recollected what she had been told by my honoured Mrs. Delany, of my reading Shakspeare to her, and was desirous that I should read a play to herself and the princesses; and she had lately heard, from Mrs. Schwellenberg, nobody could do it better, when I would.' "I assured her majesty it was rather when I could, as any reading Mrs. Schwellenberg had heard must wholly have been better or worse according to my spirits, as she had justly seemed to suggest.

"The moment coffee was over the princess Elizabeth came for me. I found her majesty knotting, the princess royal drawing, princess Augusta spinning, and lady Courtown I believe in the same employment; but I saw none of them perfectly well.

best; and, indifferent as that was, it would rather have surprised you, all things considered, that it was not yet worse. But I exerted all the courage I possess, and, having often read to the queen, I felt how much it behooved me not to let her surmise I had any greater awe to surmount.

"It is but a vulgar performance; and I was obliged to omit, as well as I could at sight, several circumstances very unpleasant for reading, and ill enough fitted for such hearers.

"It went off pretty flat. Nobody is to comment, nobody is to interrupt; and even between one act and another not a moment's pause is expected to be made.

"I had been already informed of this etiquette by Mr. Turbulent and Miss Planta; nevertheless, it is not only oppressive to the reader, but loses to the hearers so much spirit and satisfaction, that I determined to endeavour, should I again be called upon, to introduce a little break into this tiresome and unnatural profundity of respectful solemnity. My own embarrassment, however, made it agree with me for the present uncommonly well.

"Lady Courtown never uttered one single word the whole time; yet is she one of the most loquacious of our establishment. But such is the settled etiquette.

"The queen has a taste for conversation, and the princesses a good-humoured love for it, that doubles the regret of such an annihilation of all nature and all pleasantry. But what will not prejudice and education inculcate? They have been brought up to annex silence to respect and decorum to talk, therefore, unbid, or to differ from any given opinion even when called upon, are regarded as high improprieties, if not presumptions.

66

"This had been said in attending her royal highness back. I could only confirm it, and that cheerfully, to hide fearfully.

"I had not the advantage of choosing my play, nor do I know what would have been my decision had it fallen to my lot. Her majesty had just begun Colman's works, and Polly Honeycomb' was to open my campaign.

"I think,' cried the queen most graciously, Miss Burney will read the better for drawing a chair and sitting down.'

"O yes, mamma! I dare say so!' cried princess Augusta and princess Elizabeth, both in a

ing to her reading to me, I have always frankly spoken almost whatever has occurred to me. But there I had no other examples before me, and therefore I might inoffensively be guided by myself; and her majesty's continuance of the same honour has shown no disapprobation of my proceeding. But here it was not easy to make any decision for myself: to have done what lady Courtown forbore doing would have been undoubtedly a liberty.

"So we all behaved alike; and easily can I now conceive the disappointment and mortification of poor Mr. Garrick when he read Lethe' to a royal audience. Its tameness must have tamed even him, and I doubt not he never acquitted himself so ill.

"The next evening I had the same summons; but The English Merchant' was the play, which did far better. It is an elegant and serious piece, which I read with far greater ease, and into which they all entered with far greater interest.

"The princess royal was so gracious when the queen left the room, upon our next coming to town, to pay me very kind compliments upon my own part of the entertainment, though her brother

the duke of Clarence happened to be present. And the two other princesses were full of the characters of the comedy, and called upon me to say which were my favourites, while they told me their own, at all our subsequent meetings for some time.

This is all I have been able to recollect of March in which my dearest readers might not themselves be writers. Chiefly I rejoice they witnessed the long-wished, long-dreaded interview with my formerly most dearly loved Mrs. Thralenot writing it saves me much pang."

POETRY IN A PALACE.

"You may suppose my recovery was not much forwarded by a ball given at the Castle on TwelfthDay. The queen condescended to say that I might go to bed, and she would content herself with the wardrobe-woman, in consideration of my weak state; but then she exhorted me not to make it known to the Schwellenberg, who would be quite wretched at such a thing.

I returned my proper thanks, but declined the proposal, so circumstanced, assuring her majesty that it would make me wretched to have an indulgence that could produce an impropriety which would make Mrs. Schwellenberg so through my

means.

And now to enliven a little: what will you give me, fair ladies, for a copy of verses written between the queen of Great Britain and your most small little journalist?

The morning of the ball the queen sent for me, and said she had a fine pair of old-fashioned gloves, white, with stiff tops and a deep gold fringe, which she meant to send to her new master of the Horse, lord Harcourt, who was to be at the dance. She wished to convey them in a copy of verses, of which she had composed three lines, but could not get on. She told me her ideas, and I had the honour to help her in the metre; and now I have the honour to copy them from her own royal hand:

nevertheless, the religious view in which your melancholy places it convinces me your grief will give way, when it can, and not be nourished repiningly or without effort. How, how shall I wish and pray, my dearest M., that a scene of new and permanent maternal comfort may repay, in some measure, your past afflictions, and awaken and enliven you to new happiness! I only fear the terror you will conceive from every possible alarm may lessen the coming consolation, by increasing its anxiety. Endeavour, my dear friend, endeavour, d'avance, to prepare your mind for a confidence without which you can enjoy nothing, and which, without exertion, will now surely fly you.

You

A singular instance of the unhappiness of wanting this confidence has lately fallen under my eyes. The mother of a very fine child felt and indulged a solicitude so great that, by degrees, it became a part of her existence; she was never without it,-in presence, in absence, in sickness, in health,- -no matter which,-prosperity and adversity made no difference; and the anxiety grew to such a height that she is now threatened with a consumption herself, from no other cause. know, and may perhaps divine her. She used to walk out by the side of the nurse with a watch in her hand, to measure, to a minute, the exact time it spent in the air. She started forward to meet every passenger, and examine their appearance, before she suffered the child to proceed in its walk; and turned it to the right to avoid one face, and presently back to the left that it might not see another. She rose in the dead of night to go and look at it; she quitted all society two or three times in a visit, to examine it; and, in short, she made herself, her husband, and all her friends miserable by this constant distrust and apprehension, and is now, in a languishing and declining state, sent southward to try the change of air for herself, while all the time the child is one of the most healthy, beautiful, and robust I ever saw in my life.

What a world is this! can one help to exclaim, when the first of blessings can thus be rendered a scourge to our friends and an infelicity to ourselves? For this lady, who, happy in her conjugal fate, had no wish but for a child, has never known a tranquil day since her boon has been granted."

THE KING'S BIRTHDAY.

"June 4th, 1791. Let me now come to the 4th, the last birthday of the good, gracious, benevolent king I shall ever, in all human probability, pass under his royal roof.

The thought was affecting to me, in defiance of my volunteer conduct, and I could scarce speak to the queen when I first went to her, and wished to say something upon a day so interesting. The king was most gracious and kind when he came into the state dressing-room at St. James's, and particularly inquired about my health and strength, and if they would befriend me for the day. I longed again to tell him how hard I would work them, rather than let them, on such a day, drive

me from my office; but I found it better suited me to be quiet; it was safer not to trust to any expression of loyalty, with a mind so full, and on a day so critical.

With regard to health, my side is all that is attended with any uneasiness, and that is sometimes a serious business. Certainly there is nothing premature in what has been done.

And--O picquet!-life hardly hangs on earth during its compulsion, in these months succeeding months, and years creeping, crawling, after years. At dinner Mrs. Schwellenberg presided, attired magnificently. Miss Goldsworthy, Mrs. Stainforth, Messrs. De Luc and Stanhope dined with us; and while we were still eating fruit, the duke of Clarence entered.

He was just risen from the king's table, and waiting for his equipage to go home and prepare for the ball. To give you an idea of the energy of his royal highness's language, I ought to set apart a general objection to writing, or rather intimating, certain forcible words, and beg leave to show you, in genuine colours, a royal sailor.

We all rose, of course, upon his entrance, and the two gentlemen placed themselves behind their chairs, while the footman left the room; but he ordered us all to sit down, and called the men back to hand about some wine. He was in exceeding high spirits and in the utmost good humour. He placed himself at the head of the table, next Mrs. Schwellenberg, and looked remarkably well, gay, and full of sport and mischief, yet clever withal, as well as comical.

No, your roy'l highness: your roy'l highness might make dem do dat," said Mrs. Schwellenberg.

"O, by - will I! Here, you (to the footman); bring champagne! I'll drink the king's health again, if I die for it! Yet, I have done pretty well already: so has the king, yet I promise you! I believe his majesty was never taken such good care of before. We have kept his spirits up, I promise you; we have enabled him to go through his fatigues; and I should have done more still, but for the ball and Mary-I have promised to dance with Mary!"

Princess Mary made her first appearance at court to-day: she looked most interesting and unaffectedly lovely: she is a sweet creature, and perhaps, in point of beauty, the first of this truly beautiful race, of which princess Mary may be called pendant to the prince of Wales.

Champagne being now brought for the duke, he ordered it all round. When it came to me I whispered to Westerhaults to carry it on: the duke slapped his hand violently on the table, and called out, "O, by -, you shall drink it!"

There was no resisting this. We all stood up, the duke sonorously gave the royal toast.

"And now," cried he, making us sit down again, "where are my rascals of servants? I sha'nt be in time for the ball; besides, I've got a deuced tailor waiting to fix on my epaulette!

Here, you, go and see for my servants! d'ye hear? Scamper off!"

Off ran William.

"Come, let's have the king's health again. De Luc, drink it. Here, champagne to De Luc!" I wish you could have seen Mr. De Luc's mixed simper-half pleased, half alarmed. However, the wine came and he drank it, the duke taking a bumper for himself at the same time.

"Poor Stanhope!" cried he; "Stanhope shall have a glass too! Here, champagne! what are you all about? Why don't you give champagne to poor Stanhope?"

Mr. Stanhope, with great pleasure, complied, and the duke again accompanied him.

66

Come hither, do you hear?" cried the duke to the servants; and on the approach, slow and submissive, of Mrs. Stainforth's man, he hit him a violent slap on the back, calling out, "Hang you! why don't you see for my rascals?"

Away flew the man, and then he called out to Westerhaults, "Hark'ee! bring another glass of champagne to Mr. De Luc!"

Mr. De Luc knows these royal youths too well to venture at so vain an experiment as disputing with them; so he only shrugged his shoulders and drank the wine. The duke did the same.

"O, your royal highness!" cried Mr. De Luc, gaining courage as he drank, "you will make me quite droll of it if you make me go on,- quite droll!"

"So much the better! so much the better! it will do you a monstrous deal of good. Here, another of champagne for the queen's philosopher!"

Mr. De Luc obeyed, and the duke then addressed Mrs. Schwellenberg's George. Here! you! you! why, where is my carriage? run and see, do you hear?"

Off hurried George, grinning irrepressibly.

"If it was not for that deuced tailor, I would not stir. I shall dine at the Queen's house on Monday, Miss Goldsworthy; I shall come to dine with princess royal. I find she does not go to Windsor with the queen."

The queen meant to spend one day at Windsor, on account of a review which carried the king that way.

Some talk then ensued upon the duke's new carriage, which they all agreed to be the most beautiful that day at court. I had not seen it, which, to me, was some impediment against praising it.

He then said it was necessary to drink the queen's health.

The gentlemen here made no demur, though

Mr. De Luc arched his eyebrows in expressive fear

of consequences.

The passage was made so narrow by attendants, that they were all forced to go one by one.

whom I recognized lord Courtown, Treasurer of

"Here are three of us," cried the duke, "all belonging to the queen; the queen's philosopher, the queen's gentleman-usher, and the queen's son; but, thank Heaven, I'm nearest!"

"Sir," cried Mr. Stanhope, a little affronted, "I am not now the queen's gentleman-usher; I am the queen's equerry, sir."

"A glass more of champagne here! What are you all so slow for? Where are all my rascals gone? They've put me in one passion already this morning. Come, a glass of champagne for the queen's gentleman-usher!" laughing heartily.

"No, sir," repeated Mr. Stanhope; "I am equerry now, sir."

-'tis an odd etiquette. These being passed, came the king-he saw us and laughed; then the queen's Master of the Horse, lord Harcourt, who did ditto; then some more.

The Vice-Chamberlain carries the queen's candle, that she may have the arm of the Lord Chamberlain to lean on; accordingly, lord Aylesbury, receiving that honour, now preceded the queen: she looked amazed at sight of us. The kind princesses one by one acknowledged us. I spoke to sweet princess Mary, wishing her royal highness joy; she looked in a delight and an alarm nearly equal. She was to dance her first minuet. Then followed the Ladies of the Bedchamber, and lady Harcourt was particularly civil. Then the Maids

us.

Neither gentleman objected; but Mrs. Schwellenberg, who had sat laughing and happy all this time, now grew alarmed, and said, Your royal highness, I am afraid for the ball!"

"Hold you your potato-jaw, my dear," cried the duke, patting her; but, recollecting himself, he took her hand and pretty abruptly kissed it, and then, flinging it hastily away, laughed aloud, and called out, "There! that will make amends for anything, so now I may say what I will. So here! a glass of champagne for the queen's philosopher and the queen's gentleman-usher! Hang me if it will not do them a monstrous deal of good?"

Here news was brought that the equipage was in order. He started up, calling out, "Now, then, for my deuced tailor."

"O, your royal highness!" cried Mr. De Luc, in a tone of expostulation, "now you have made us droll, you go!"

Off, however, he went. And is it not a curious scene? All my amaze is, how any of their heads bore such libations.

In the evening, I had by no means strength to encounter the ball-room. I gave my tickets to Mrs. and Miss Douglass.

Mrs. Stainforth was dying to see the princess Mary in her court dress. Mr. Stanhope offered to conduct her to a place of prospect. She went with him. I thought this preferable to an unbroken evening with my fair companion, and, Mr. De Luc thinking the same, we both left Mrs. Schwellenberg to unattire, and followed. But we were rather in a scrape by trusting to Mr. Stanhope after all this champagne: he had carried Mrs. Stainforth to the very door of the ball-room, and there fixed her-in a place which the king, queen, and suite, must brush past in order to enter the ball-room. I had followed, however, and the crowds of beef-eaters, officers, and guards, that lined all the state-rooms through which we exhibited ourselves, prevented my retreating alone. I stood, therefore, next to Mrs. Stainforth, and saw the ceremony.

Well, God bless the king! and many and many such days may he know!

I was now so tired as to be eager to go back; but the queen's philosopher, the good and most sober and temperate of men, was really a little giddy with all his bumpers, and his eyes, which were quite lustrous, could not fix any object steadily: while the poor gentleman-usher-equerry, I mean-kept his mouth so wide open with one continued grin,—I suppose from the sparkling beverage, that I was every minute afraid its pearly ornaments, which never fit their case, would have fallen at our feet. Mrs. Stainforth gave me a significant look of making the same observation, and, catching me fast by the arm, said, "Come, Miss Burney, let's you and I take care of one another;" and then she safely toddled me back to Mrs. Schwellenberg, who greeted us with saying, "Vel! bin you much amused? Dat prince Villiam --oders de duke de Clarence-bin raelly ver merry -oders vat you call tipsy."

ARCHINTA, MARGHERITA,

Was born in Milan towards the beginning of the sixteenth century. She was of noble birth, but more distinguished for her talent than for this accident of nature. She composed many lyric poems, and pieces of music, according to the taste of that age.

ARMYNE, LADY MARY,

DAUGHTER of Henry Talbot, fourth son of George, earl of Shrewsbury, married Sir William Armyne, and distinguished herself by her knowledge of history, divinity, and of the languages. She was very liberal to the poor, and contributed largely to the support of the missionaries sent to North America. She endowed three hospitals; and died in 1675.

ARNAUDE DE ROCAS,

ONE of the daughters of Chypriotes, who, after the taking of Nicosie, in 1570, was carried away by the Turks and held in captivity. Arnaude, destined by her beauty for the seraglio of the sultan, was, with several of her companions, put into a vessel about to sail for Constantinople. But, preferring death to dishonour, the heroic maiden contrived, in the dead of night, to convey fire to the powder-room, and perished, amidst the wreck of the vessel, with the victims of her desperation. ARNAULD, MARIE ANGELIQUE, SISTER of Robert, Antoine, and Henri Arnauld, was abbess of the Port-Royal convent, and distinguished herself by the reformation and sanctity she introduced there, and also at the convent of Maubuisson, where she presided five years. She returned to Port-Royal, and died in 1661, aged seventy. Her mother and six of her sisters passed the evening of their life in her convent.

She was early distinguished for her capacity and her virtues. While at Maubuisson, she became acquainted with St. Francis de Sales, bishop of Geneva, who continued through his whole life to correspond with her. She displayed peculiar skill and sagacity in the changes she introduced into the convents under her control. Careful to exact nothing of the nuns of which she had not set the example, she found, in the respect and emulation she inspired, an engine to which constraint is powerless. Self-denial, humility, and charity, were among the most prominent of her virtues.

ARNAULD, ANGELIQUE,

NIECE to the celebrated Marie Angelique Arnauld, abbess of Port-Royal, entered the cloister at six years of age, and formed herself upon the model of her aunts, by whom she was educated. She inherited their virtues and endowments, and was at length elevated to the same station, which she filled with equal dignity and capacity. She was distinguished for her taste and penetration, and for her eloquence and facility in speaking and composition. She died January 29th, 1684, at the age of fifty-nine.

ARNAULD, CATHARINE AGNES,

WAS chosen, while yet in her noviciate, by her elder sister, Marie Angelique, to be the mistress of the novices at the convent of Port-Royal. During the five years that Marie Angelique passed in the abbey at Maubuisson, Catharine was entrusted with the government of Port-Royal, and appointed coadjutrix with her sister, who was desirous of resigning it wholly to her management. Agnes, respected and beloved by the nuns, instructed them no less by her example than by her eloquent discourses. She was equally celebrated for her talents and her piety. She was the author of two small treatises, entitled 66 Le Chapelet Secret du Saint Sacrament," and "L'Image de la Réligeuse, parfaite et imparfaite." The former was censured by some members of the Sorbonne, and it was suppressed.

Catharine Agnes Arnauld died February 19th, 1671, at the age of seventy-seven.

ARNOULT, SOPHIE,

A PARISIAN actress, born at Paris, February 17th, 1740. Her father kept a hôtel garni, and gave her a good education. Nature endowed her with wit, sensibility, a charming voice, and great personal attractions. Chance brought her upon the stage, where she delighted the public from 1757 to 1778. The princess of Modena happened to be in retirement at the Val de Grâce, and was struck with a very fine voice that sang at evening mass. Sophie Arnoult was the songstress; and on the princess speaking of her discovery, she was obliged, against her mother's wish, to join the royal choir. This paved the way for Sophie to the Parisian opera, where she soon became queen. All persons of rank, and all the literati, sought her society; among the latter, were D'Alembert, Diderot, Helvétius, Duclos, and Rousseau. She was compared to Aspasia and Ninon de l'Enclos. Her wit was so successful, that her bons mots were collected. It was sometimes severe, yet it made her no enemies. She died in 1802. In the beginning of the revolution, she bought the parsonage at Luzarche, and transformed it into a country-house, with this inscription over the door, Ite missa est. Her third son, Constant Dioville de Brancas, colonel of cuirassiers, was killed at the battle of Wagram.

ARRAGON, JOAN OF,

WAS the wife of Ascanio Colonna, prince of Tagliacozza, who was made grand constable of the kingdom of Naples by Charles V., in 1520. He assisted the imperial forces when Rome was besieged, under the command of Bourbon, in 1527, and obtained a great reputation for bravery and military skill. Like all the petty sovereigns of that age of war and violence, his life was one of vicissitude and agitation. He died in the state prison of Castel Nuovo, at Naples, in 1557. He has been accused of traitorous practices with the French, at that time at war with his country; other authorities say that he was incarcerated by orders of the Inquisition. His son, Marc Antonio