were awakened into unusual vivacity, he indulged in all sorts of ambitious speculation. His friend could not help smiling at the confidence with which he predicted his future greatness, for he was ever commercing with futurity, and by anticipation was already a great man. All his notions were vast and daring; and he expressed himself in wild and dreamy imagery, which was well suited to his high and aspiring thoughts. Talma said, that at this time his conversation was nearly Ossianic, from which I took occasion to inquire from him if it was true that Bonaparte had so much partiality for the writer, whom he little suspected for a modern Scotchman, who had arrayed his conceptions in the mists of his own grey hills, and contrived to impose upon the world in this ingenious and fantastic masquerade. Talma did not seem to be quite pleased at my being so incredulous of the authenticity of the favourite author of his imperial friend; for he assured me, that from the earlist period of their acquaintance, he remembered Bonaparte's passion for what he considered as among the sublimest fragments of antiquity. He used to carry a small edition of Ossian about him. No doubt, the style more or less communicated something of its own colour to his mind; and we may account for the occasional hyperboles to be found in his public documents, by referring them to that very likely source. I asked Talma whether Bonaparte's temper was as violent before he attained his elevation, as it was said to have been afterwards. He denied, and that with no little warmth, that his temper had ever been remarkable for its vehemence, and asserted, that on the contrary, though subject to gusts of a sudden and transitory kind, he was generally gentle, and exceedingly good-natured. As a proof of it, he mentioned the deep attachment of all those who were immediately about his person. Talma was often much affected in speaking of the man, who had loaded him with favours, and upon one or two occasions he was moved even to tears. He could not help admitting the evils which Bonaparte had inflicted, and that he was a foe to liberty; but at the same time he said, that those who knew him best indulged in the hope that age might have calmed his ambition, and given his mind a more pacific cast an opinion which, from politeness, I did not care to controvert. Talma always found a ready access to Bonaparte, even in the days of his loftiest prosperity. The emperor used to chat with him, with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance; he inquired minutely into all the concerns of the theatre, and dwelt upon the subject with a real and unimpaired delight. Corneille was Bonaparte's favourite dramatist; and of all his works, he chiefly admired Cinna. It occurred to me indeed, when I saw that noble tragedy, that the sentiments it conveyed must have been greatly agreeable to him, as the cvils of a republic, and the necessity that one strong hand should seize the reins in turbulent and distracted times, are strongly inculcated. Talma played Augustus for the first time whilst I was in Paris, and to Lafond, who had till then performed the former part, Cinna was committed. There was a rivalry between the two actors, which gave additional interest to the performance. Talma soon left competition at an immense distance, and carried all the applauses of the house, which was crowded to excess. The deepest emotion was produced among the spectators, by the many references to the scenes of Roman conception, which afforded a painful association with what they had themselves so recently beheld. The terrific descriptions of the poet, given with all the power of the most masterly declamation, approached, at moments, to the vividness of reality. Scarce a sentiment was ut tered which did not find an echo in every bosom around me, and I could not refrain from praying, that in the theatres of my own country I should never be a witness to emotions derived from any kindred cause. Talma appeared to me, in his personation of Augustus, to aim at presenting some shadows of Bonaparte. Indeed there was a vehemence and abruptness in his acting, so little conformable with my own ideas of the character, that I was satisfied that he intended to pourtray the great product of the revolution. Talma afterwards mentioned that Cinna was the play which Bonaparte chiefly liked; and that one day, after witnessing its representation, he mentioned, that the depth and justice of the political reflections which every where occur in the writings of Corneille, had so much impressed him with admiration for the genius of the poet, that if he had been living in his time, he would have made him his prime minister. S. LETTERS FROM TOURS. NO. II. MISS MARY BALL TO MISS JANE JINKINS. DEAR Jane, we reach'd Paris as day-light was closing, Through which Temple-bar without stooping might ride- That they make Portland-place Lilliputian quite, Its spacious Boulevards with their vistas of green, Flank'd with structures of stone that ennoble the scene The Rue de la Paix, with the Tower at its end, All of brass like the one in which Danae was penn’d,— But it's gone, and a little white flag met my eyes All these sights, quickly seen in succession, combined To dazzle, delight, and astonish my mind. We drove to Meurice's, and there should each thing go For our language is spoken by all that you meet, Nay, even the charges are English complete, With young roasted-pig, which the French hate like Jews. "There's the young piping Faun-hark, he's going to warble, Is it petrified nature, or animate marble? Is this one of the stone-produced men of Deucalion? Or the elephant actor that plays at Franconi's. Colour'd gowns without sleeves are the promenade dress, Which to me has a servant-like look, I confess ; Some wear an elaborate cap, but upon it Not an atom of hat or iota of bonnet! Then they lace down their waists, while the garment so scant is The bonnets in fashion are sable as ink, So I vow'd I would do my face justice, in spite "Nous en avons en noir-mais O Ciel! O Dieu! Ce n'est pas distingué c'est très mal-honnête, C'est passé c'est chassé"-Six weeks out of date! Then they tried on their own, and exclaimed How becoming! "C'est charmant-distingué "-I knew they were humming, For I look'd just as sable and solemn, or worse Than the plume-bearing figure preceding a hearse.- And the price? "Soixante francs, quand c'est monté comme cela; I blush'd as I offer'd them forty; but they Took the cash without blushing or once saying nay. I think you'll allow me one merit, dear Jane,- For the manner-the fashion's the thing, after all: So much as the smartness, gentility, grace, That the wearer possesses;-now these, you'll acknowledge, I And I offer you none for this lengthen'd report On my bonnet, (the plume would be handsome at Court,) For I'm sure my dear Jenny would wish me to state All that interests deeply my feelings and fate. The scene where my purchase first made its début Pray, Jenny, don't quarrel with me, but the laws, They would charge double-postage, though one sheet of For reading outside all the secrets within. 2nd P.S. I've just time to add, (having open'd my letter,) paper. LETTERS ON A TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. NO. III. Ev'n here where Alpine solitudes extend, GOLDSMITH. We left Chamounix by way of the sublime Alpine pass of the Tête Noire. We should have preferred passing over the mountain of the Col de Balme, but the weather was thick and cloudy, and all the attractions of the Col de Balme consist in its commanding prospect of the Alps around Mont Blanc, for the enjoyment of which a clear sky is indispensable. We had no reason to repent our choice; for the scene of wild magnificence presented by the Tête Noire, is certainly one of the most remarkable and the most interesting which Alpine scenery can afford. Nature appears here to luxuriate in savage grandeur: she has here achieved her masterpiece in the style of sombre magnificence; and the traveller may be said to sup full of all the horrors of the picturesque. Chamounix itself, with all its impending snows and glaciers, presents a picture of smiling beauty and graceful loveliness, in comparison with this dark glen of rocks, and precipices, and cataracts, funereal firs, inaccessible crags, and bottomless abysses— "Umbrarum hic locus est, somni, noctisque sopora." and one has abundant reason to invoke with the poet "umbræ silentes," and all other deities of night and gloom, before attempting to describe these vales, on which the sun never shines, and where the rocks eter nally echo the roar of the cataract. The valley, of which one side is bounded by the gigantic range of gloomy precipice, called the Tête Noire, is named Valorsine. In general, it is not half a mile in width. A few green pastures, studded with châlets and goatherds' cottages, lie deep sunk in the abyss, overhung on both sides by cliffs and wild precipices, rising rank above rank in gloomy grandeur, clothed with ranks of black firs, sometimes relieved by the lighter green foliage of the beech and larch. Here and there a bright cascade is seen, pouring its silvery and foaming stream down the rocks and amidst the foliage, till it finds its way into the furious torrent called the Eau Noire, which foams along the bottom of the glen. The village (as it is called) of Valorsine is situated in the middle of this valley, consisting of a few wooden châlets and huts inhabited by cowherds, and surrounded by pastures inclosed with rude stone walls. The people of Valorsine are said to be a remarkably fine race. I cannot say we saw any striking instances of beauty. They supplied us with some excellent milk, not served up by the "fraiches et discretes laitieres" of Rousseau: at least, the former charm was wanting-the latter, probably for that reason, might exist in high perfection. Our Chamounix guides (the ever-to-berespected François Simon and Vincent Payaud,) who were most conscientious Ciceronis on all occasions, and never spared the legs of mules or men when a cascade or a point of view was within reach, insisted on our climbing about half a league up the sides of a mountain to admire a cascade, which they assured us, by way of recommendation, had so captivated Monsieur Canning, l'Ambassadeur Anglais, that he gave them five francs on condition that they should shew it to all his countrymen who passed that way. The cascade of Barberine we found to be a fine fall of turbulent foam, which any where else than in this land of cascades would have been well worth the soaking from the spray, which was the price our admiration cost us. From Valorsine we proceeded to Trient, by a path full of the most romantic beauties; at first, along the valley, following the sides of the torrent, which we crossed and recrossed several times by rude narrow wooden bridges, over which our mules stepped most dextrously. We then rapidly ascended a dangerous and wild path up the sides of the mountain of the Tête Noire, passing along the edge of continual precipices, and fir-covered rocks and heights beetling over our heads. In one of the wildest spots in this scene is an enormous mass of solid rock, half covered with brushwood, lichen, and moss, and which, to our surprise, was enclosed within neat new deal palisadoes. A long inscription announced that this rock was the fee-simple of Lord Guildford, who had purchased it of the Commune, and inclosed it, from a feeling of fondness for this romantic glen, through which he had passed on returning from Greece and Italy. We also heard it said, that his Lordship had endeavoured to purchase the little lake of Chêde, in Savoy, whose crystal face perpetually reflects the snows of Mont Blanc-curious instances of the pleasure conferred by the feeling of property in any object that is interesting, even though the full enjoyment of that object is in no degree rendered more easy or complete by the possession of the title-deeds. Lord Guildford's cosmopolitan feelings and locomotive habits are not less remarkable than his knowledge and attainments. We arrived at the little cluster of huts and châlets, called Trient, |