naturally attracted the notice of the people as she traversed the streets or the promenades of Petersburgh. Her death overwhelmed the Emperor in distress. Madame N was spouse of Le Grand Veneur, who either winked at his lady's infidelity, or was obliged to wink at it: for, in the north, notwithstanding all the advance towards refinement, despotism, in some instances, maintains its ground, and acts as it wills, contrary to law, justice, humanity, and religion. The lady just alluded to had a handsome establishment allowed her by his imperial Majesty, and, besides an excellent town-house near the residence, she had also a country-house in one of the islands formed by the branches of the Neva, and not far distant from the Emperor's summer palace. There she, and her illegitimate offspring, generally spent the fine season of the year. The Empress had often, in vain, remonstrated with the Emperor respecting his connexion with Madame N; and she had frequently threatened to abandon her throne, and to retire to her relations in Germany. But the Dowager-Empress, who really loved and pitied her imperial daughter-in-law, partly by caresses and intreaties, partly by prudential measures and persuasion, and partly by her disapproval of Alexander's conduct, and her severe remonstrances to her imperial son, succeeded in delaying her designs. Yet, however sincere might be his vows of amendment at the moment, the Autocrat of all the Russias, like other mortals, found that the chains of love are not easily ruptured; and, after a short absence and repentance, he returned to sin again. Such was the Emperor's conduct, for many years, toward Madame N- ; and, as mentioned, the fruit of the intercourse was a young family. The Emperor also showed a decided predilection to some other females, and among the rest, to the wives of two merchants, whom the author of this sketch has seen to receive marked attention at the grand annual masquerade, held on the 1st of January, to which all grades of the Petersburghers are freely admitted, provided they be in proper dresses. passion for a few females, and inferred, that Alexander had beauties of the court, of the From the open manifestation of his from his amorous constitution, it was many secret intrigues besides with the theatres, and of the metropolis; and there is strong reason to presume that the inference was just. In consequence of such conduct, it was very reasonable for the Empress to be highly discontented. In the years 1814-15, she was in Germany, and it was reported that she had refused to return to Russia, unless the Emperor would bind himself under a solemn oath, that he would banish Madame N- from the Russian empire: and even after a deed to that effect was obtained, it required the persuasions and the cunning of the Dowager-Empress to get her imperial Majesty in motion for the northern metropolis. Madame Nwas accordingly necessitated to leave Russia with her children. She went to France, and at present she resides in Paris. Since that event, it is stated that the Emperor Alexander had shown his regret at the frolics of his youth, by repentance, and the kindest conduct to his imperial consort, with whom he passed much time in his evenings.* Before concluding, we cannot avoid alluding to an event which well illustrates the "freaks" of public as well as private caprice and fancy. Having joined Great Britain in the maintenance of a necessary and successful war against France, and having assisted to hurl the greatest hero, and the greatest tyrant of history from his throne, the monarch of the North, and the King of Prussia, landed upon the shores of England, amidst the splendour of Majesty, the shouts of triumph, and the varied magnificence of royal and civic feasts. In the language of the day, Alexander was the decided favourite of the British public. The sovereign was handsome; his physiognomy most prepossessinghis temper amiable-his demeanour was dignified without pride, and condescending without meanness; indeed, his accomplishments were the theme of thousands of tongues; and his virtues were sounded throughout these islands: he was almost perfection, nay, for a short time, he was nearly a Demi-God. Then all the monarch's affairs of honour were forgotten, his mistress and her offspring were never remembered his neglected and melancholy, but virtuous consort, cast into the shade in a word, all the failings of the Autocrat were concealed, and his virtues were set forth in their fullest splendour.† The reception Alexander met with in London from all ranks of the people, and from all denominations of Christians, was' most cordial and flattering, and must have delighted him. Yet, at this moment, though a better man than in his younger years, he is no longer the favourite of the inhabitants of Great Britain, nor of the greatest part of our Continental neighbours. The Holy Alliance has made him innumerable enemies, and his public and private character have been more keenly examined. Of these we shall speak again in another sketch. THE LUTE. THE Lute, whose music sweet and tender Oh! since thy lute such faith discloses, Repose an equal trust in me; When deck'd in smiles, and crown'd with roses, Think not my love can stray from thee; The world's vain spells can ne'er deceive me, My outward looks on all may shine, But never can my heart, believe me, Thrill to another touch than thine! Travels in Russia, vol. ii. page 424. M. A. + It is said that a high personage thought Alexauder paid too much attention to dress; and hence bestowed upon him the appellation of the SCYTHIAN DANDY. MEMOIRS OF THE MARGRAVINE OF ANSPACH.* THIS lady is the most amiable of blue-stockings, and the most profound of princesses. She gossips, with equal liveliness, about love, free-masonry, politics, the nursing of children, the sculpture of Phidias, the toilette, religion, Polish girls, Doctor Johnson, education, the perfidy of the male sex, philosophy, Alderney cows, ethics, Italian countesses, ancient Greece, Frederick the Great, his present Majesty, &c. &c.; and all these, and a hundred other subjects, are discussed with so much good temper, and are moreover garnished with such piquant anecdotes, as to make her book the pleasantest of all light reading; though, at the same time, it is by no means deficient in matters of more touching in terest. The auto-biography of a lady is, of all works, the best calculated to be welcomed by the generality of readers. Men will, of course, feel interested in any genuine record from head quarters, of that inexplicable thing, the female heart; and women always burn with anxiety to know by what steps any celebrated individual of their sex has arrived at distinction; to ascertain, for instance, clearly and from authority, how she was dressed on her coming out; what passed between her and her sister about the gentleman who said the first gallant thing to her; and whether she eloped, or was married by consent of parents. Among the Margravine's undisputed merits, may be reckoned the pre-eminent one of being (if the picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds may be credited) a most beautiful woman. Her beauty, too, was tempered with such mild sweetness of expression, (the finishing grace of female loveliness) as must have made her charms irresistible. Of the power of these, indeed, and of the equal attraction of her mental character, she seems fully aware; and it is amusing to see how, in the frankness of her temper, she goes on throughout the book, sounding her own praises. We are fain to believe she deserved them all, especially when we look at her likeness, engraved from the above-named picture; the composition of which has often been considered as one of the happiest of Sir Joshua's works. The portrait is prefixed to the first volume of the present publication. One might look at it for ever. Her countenance seems alive with kindness and intelligence; she is caressing one of her children; and the figure, with a bewitching toss of the head, is thrown into an attitude which sets off, with the most alluring grace, that union of slenderness, and of full and swelling charms, which were the exquisite characteristics of her person. Her mind will be best estimated by her book, in the perusal of which the reader cannot fail to be delighted with the evidences of affectionate sensibility, and of general accomplishment and gaiety of heart which meet him at every page, and for the sake of which he will forgive (and forget, as a matter of course) the boarding-school truisms which the fair authoress, here and there, in her zeal to be didactic, so complacently deals out as philosophical discoveries. The Margravine of Anspach, whose life has been the subject of so much discussion in the high circles, and, we may add, of so much calumny, was born in the year 1750. She is the youngest daughter of the fourth Earl of Berkeley, by his countess, Elizabeth, daughter of Henry * Memoirs of the Margravine of Anspach, written by herself. 2 vols. 8vo. Drax, of Charborough, in the county of Dorset. Of her birth she gives the following interesting account: "Lady Berkeley was taken in labour in the month of December, although she did not calculate that she should produce a second boy till the February following. Her alarm and disappointment may be conceived when the child appeared, a most miserable object, scarcely breathing, and scarcely alive, at the end of seven months. Being wrapped up in a piece of flannel, and, without much attention, laid down in the great elbow-chair which was placed at her ladyship's bed-side, with neither clothes nor wet-nurse prepared, I was left in despair for a while to my fate. At that time, certain etiquettes and attentions were observed, which are now neglected and omitted; and the first person who came to Lady Berkeley, a few hours after she was delivered, was her aunt, the Countess of Albemarle Coming up to the bed-side, and, after the usual remarks on such an occasion, perceiving the chair by the bed-side, and imagining that which occupied it to be only a piece of flannel, her ladyship was on the very point of seating herself upon it, when she was prevented, by the screams of the attendant, from putting an end to the existence of the forlorn babe. As Lady Albemarle supposed the infant to be in the bed with the Countess, she was surprised at the narrow escape; and her curiosity being more roused from this circumstance, she directed her attention to the object of it, and requested that it should be brought to the window, in order that she might judge of the probability of its existence. Lady Berkeley exclaimed, peevishly, "It is a miserable thing, and cannot live." The infant's face being uncovered, the helpless little being opened its eyes, as if to hail the light of day; and as they appeared very bright, Lady Albemarle conceived that a child who possessed that power had a good chance to live. She, therefore, immediately sent into the neighbouring streets to find out a wet-nurse; nor did she retire till she had seen the child enjoy its borrowed nourishment from a healthy woman who was procured. Had it not been that an accident had so nearly happened, this circumstance would have been omitted; and, from despair of the mother, I most probably should not have survived. This scene took place at the house of the Earl of Berkeley in Spring Gardens." She continued, during her infancy, so very diminutive, weak, and delicate, that nothing but the unremitting care which was bestowed upon her by a German nurse (for her mother was not fond of children!) could have reared her. Her sister, who was only two years older, used to carry her about in her arms; and to give her strength, cold baths were ordered, which produced an ague, from which she with difficulty recovered. We hope the publication of this fact will contribute to the abolition of that absurd and dangerous practice of dipping infants in cold water, the sudden effect of which is as painful to the system as electrifying the child would be. Such violent contrasts are unnatural, and must be hurtful; and we wish the Margravine, who has bestowed much of her good sense upon the nurture of children, had spoken more at large upon this subject. We have heard the case described, of a poor infant who was preposterously dipped every morning into icy cold water. The dread of the little creature, as she was carried towards the scene of her suffering, was almost tragically evinced by her trembling and clinging to her nurse, for she was not old enough to speak; but, when she was held over the bath, preparatory to the remorseless plunge, her limbs became almost convulsed, and her soft and baby face, which one might imagine incapable of any expression, was momentarily visited with a premature character in the deformity of its terror, and in the beseeching looks cast towards her father, who, yield ing to injudicious advice, used to sanction the operation. This child died of Hydrocephalus. The Margravine appears to have suffered, in the early part of her life, from the unfeeling treatment of two individuals, who, of all others, ought to have cherished and loved her: we mean her mother and her first husband. Not that they acted in concert; but that each, in his and her several sphere, seemed industrious in filling her young mind with unhappiness. This is a specimen of the behaviour of her mother : "I was compelled that night to sleep in the same bed with Lady Berkeley, and from that time ever after in the same room, till I was married. That night, instead of speaking to me, my mother spoke to herself, and repeated in different phrases the same thing, that she had lost her only child-her fa vourite." And here is a little anecdote of her sister, Lady Georgiana, told in her diverting and sly way : "Some time after this, one night when my mother was asleep, Lady Georgiana came to my bed-side, having stolen silently from her own, and whispered, My Bessy, I am in love.' "I was silent for some time, struck with the sudden manner and peculiar way of this disclosure, while Lady Georgiana continued in her whisper to tell me that she loved Lord Forbes. If my astonishment could be increased, it was at that name; for he was very ugly." On the subject of the first declaration of love to herself, she is equally lively and dramatic : Lady Berkeley sat in a box at the ball, and permitted Lady Georgiana and me to take a walk with some other young ladies. Each of us had a cavalier, who were to take care of and bring us back soon; but Lord Forbes insisted on walking between us. While proceeding along we were joined by a tall man in a black domino, who took the advantage of a crowd which impeded us, and who dropped on his knees before me, and said, Lady Elizabeth, I die if you do not hear me!' "He then said, that to see me, and to love and to be miserable, were one and the same thing. My surprise and terror cannot be described; but Lord Forbes held me, and he and my sister laughed. I now began to imagine that this was masquerade wit; but my astonishment increased, when the man continued his language, and pulled off his mask; when I beheld the handsome Mr., universally allowed to be so by every one, and perhaps one of the handsomest men to be seen in any country. "Not one word escaped my lips till Lord Forbes said, 'I have been his confident a long time;' and he shook my arm, but in vain, for the language of love was only terror to me; and on finding I could not speak, he said, Ten thousand pardons I ask; permit me to speak to Lady Berkeley. To which Lord Forbes answered, Oh, yes; it is a dumb chicken, but I will roast her for this; and Mr. walked away. I hurried back to my mother, and calmed my terrors by saying to myself, Poor man, he is certainly mad!" The conduct of Lord Craven, the Margravine's first husband, if the truth has been told of him, was unfeeling, unjust, gross, and wilful in the extreme; and there are one or two scenes in the present memoirs, between Lady Craven and his lordship, which are among the most affecting things we ever read. The following, which in some respects reminds us of a passage in Fielding's "Amelia," is one of them :— "That winter, I was much surprised to find that often, when Lord Craven told me he was going to hunt in Hampshire or Wiltshire, he had been in neither places; but in London, and not residing in our own house. I, of |