CAS. Then, if we lose this battle,


You are contented to be led in triumph Through the streets of Rome ? BRU.: No, Cassius, no; think not, thou noble Roman, That even Brutus will go bound to Rome! He bears too great a mind. But this same day Must end the work, the ides of March begun.' Here, then, we have it as the fixed determination of Brutus most emphatically expressed, not to be taken alive. He probably intended, if the day went against him, to die, as a noble Roman ought, fighting in his armour.

We have also the expression of his philosophic creed on the abstract question of suicide. In the one speaks the high-toned Roman citizen and soldier, to whom death was sweeter than dishonour; in the other, the speculative philosopher, earnest, doubtless, but still only the philosopher. And now when all is over, when he has fought his desperate way through the thickest of the fight, and yet remained unhurt; when he has dared death, who, craven, had turned away; when his best friends have fallen before his eyes, his army routed, and Roman liberty gone forever; when his "brother Cassius" had put an end to his own life, and his only choice is capture, flight, or suicide: is it to be wondered at that the man is stronger than the philosopher, and the honour of a Roman than a speculative creed? So, in the gloom of the approaching night he plunges into the untried blackness that lies beyond. A word or two of those errors for which he paid so dear a penalty. He erred morally, most of all in that great sin, the

murder of Cæsar; but his whole life was a continual sin, in that he lived it for man and not for God; from this he reaped anguish and unutterable remorse. He erred intellectually, in that he attempted to "drag history in leadingstrings:" he sinned against that great principle of political philosophy, that when a nation is down-trodden and oppressed, the people must rise in their majesty and trample the oppressor under foot; no clique, no party of conspirators,

however honest, however patriotic, can ever do it. Liberty is too precious a boon to be won by proxy. He erred also, in that he comprehended not the signs of the times. Rome was debloods." He was above the age in which he generate; she had "lost the breed of noble lived, and yet he saw it not. For these errors, these "sins against history," he was doomed to see the ruin of his cause, and his last fond

hopes of his country's liberty extinguished forever on the bloody field of Philippi.

Here we must leave this fruitful subject, its As to the pale student of the heavens, through beauties half-developed, its treasures all untold. patient labour and unwearied vision, are revealed worlds above worlds and systems above systems reaching far off into immeasurable who step by step, with pleasurable toil, gains space: so to the earnest student of Shakspeare, his way into the universe of the master's mind, are revealed fresh worlds of thought and beauty, teeming with priceless jewels of knowledge and delight.

We have endeavoured to confine ourselves to the unfolding of the character of Brutus, noticing only those points which mark most directly its development. Striving to shut our eyes to the myriad beauties that crowd our pathway, we have tried to "keep boldly on" in the course we marked out. Of the philology of the said nothing, nor of the minor characters, nor play, an almost inexhaustible subject, we have of the up-growth of the plot in the mind of Shakspeare.

eulogistic eloquence of the "noble Antony," his But we forbear, and leave our hero to the honourable adversary:

"This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators, save only he

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He only, in general honest thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him, that nature might stand up
And say to all the world



(A Legend).

Amidst green and pleasant meadows, one glorious summer, there ran a stream, whose course lay among the water-lilies and through green fairy forests of bulrushes. On its clear breast there was often to be seen a brood of ducks headed by an old drake; they were happy and very fat; they were also beautiful, and gems of radiant colours glanced in the sunlight on their crested heads,

But two of them were white. These two were ever to be seen side by side. At noon they rested upon the green banks or amidst the rushes, and rejoiced in the sunshine. At evening-tide they swam to and fro on the large golden mirrors which the setting sun flung on that stream, pluming their wings and arching their necks, then sailed among the water-lilies till the inoon came out. Many a night they would fain have lingered in its gentle light, but the old drake had issued a decree that a certain time by the evening star every duck should be on shore. It was one summer's day that, being

overcome with heat, he forgot his usual energy, and left these two giddy sentimental ducks to themselves.

The stream sailed on, and with it the snowwhite ducks.

"Pearl," said the younger of the two, "I do so hate going to bed at the same time every night, just when the moon is brightest, the water coolest, and the flowers are sweetest. So I'm quite resolved to enjoy myself to-night: and I'll tell you a secret, as we always have shared each other's joys and sorrows, dearest Pearl."

"Ah, Snowflake," said the elder, "what a wild, and I fear, wicked little duck you are. Go on, however, you know I shall stand by you to the last."

"Well, Pearl," said Snowflake, playfully fanning Pearl with her white wing, and perhaps casting a glance at its beauty with a pardonable pride, "do listen before you say anything, and don't be quite so prudish, or I shall shock your sensibility. Last night I vowed I would go out; the air was so refreshing, and such a delicious breeze rang the little flowerbells, and made sweet music among the stems of the tall bulrushes, that I could bear it no longer, and as you slept at some little distance I durst not call you. I went, and determined to sail slowly by the copse where the honeysuckle blows. Ah! how sweet it was, and how often I wished for you Pearl, dear. I had just reached the little islet where we so often sit under the shade of our own favourite willowtree, and was about to turn, resolving to run all risks and fetch you, when I heard a faint quack, converted into a sighing groan, close to me. I was startled, and on looking round perceived a young drake, the handsomest I ever beheld; so different from Swallow-Frog and Lovefly, our old companions. He told me his name was Emerald-Crest. He persuaded me with soft words to sail with him round the far islet where in spring-time the violets grow on the old ashroot. At first I would not; but, when he talked to me, as I thought none but ourselves could talk, Pearl, I could not resist; and he told me of strange and beautiful things; of other lands where he said our wings might carry us, where storms never come, and where birds with jewelled wings sleep amongst flowers sweeter than roses and fairer than the waterlilies we love. He whiled away the time thus till we came to the Hazel Copse, where the blackbirds build; and as we sailed by such a flood of sweet melody burst from thence, that when it ceased methought the blackbird had waked from its sleep in the still night-watch to greet this new friend amongst us. I told him so. He quacked softly, and Icould see in the moonlight that the feathers on his breast rose as if the wind had ruffled them. But there was no wind. By this time the evening star began to pale, and I feared to stay. He said to me as we parted, The days of young life are short at best, 'tis fitting we should enjoy them. My life has begun to-night; these waters seem to


me like those of another land, and a better. Farewell. To-day I murmured at the quiet that reigns here, to-night I think it Paradise. We have met but once, let it not be the last time. I shall wait you again to-morrow night.' As I turned away a feather flew from my wing as I flapped it in token of adieu. He seized it. I stayed no longer; but as I turned to look at him in the distance, I saw the long silver track upon the water, and he was gone.

And that was not the last time Snowflake and Emerald-Crest met near the wild rose-bower, whose branches cast shadows upon the stream from beneath the willow-tree on the banks of their favourite islet.

Their dream of happiness was fair, but, like the roseate tints the sunset leaves, it was too fair to last.

Pearl was sent on a visit to a neighbouring brook with an elderlyduck named Gobbel-all, as it was thought expedient by the old drake that she should see a little of the world. Sad was the parting between the friends; and when Pearl went, and her restraining presence and advice were lost for a time to her less thoughtful friend, Snowflake sought consolation, and found it in communion with the kindred soul of the young and handsome Emerald-Crest. None as yet knew their love-it burnt so much the brighter in secret. Earth was nothing to them; of its trials they recked not, and its pleasures they loathed; for the evening brought joys which none could share, whilst the world's cold heart lay sleeping away the hours which to them were life's existence.

Summer waned. The time was coming, too, when their rosy dream must become a chilly, drear reality. It is ever so.

As Snowflake's beauty became the pride of the old drake, and the ducks her companions, it came to pass that, one of their number, an ugly young drake with a sandy head and a very dient to fall in love with her. His name was impertinent way of swimming, thought it expeSwallow-Frog.

He was rather favoured by the old gentleman, who had it strongly in his mind that Snowflake should not marry out of the family, and constantly got into a passion when anyone mentioned the ducks of the neighbouring farms and ponds, declaring they were common, vulgar birds, and priding himself immensely on the Muscovite breed of his own family. He had once caught three daring intruders who, hearing of Snowflake's beauty, had come to look at He flew at them in her whilst diving for frogs. person, bodily, and worried the head of one of them almost to a mummy before he would let him go.

As may be supposed, the society of SwallowFrog was very distasteful to Snowflake. His conversation too was mostly upon the number of fat frogs and toads he caught in the season, and of the delicacy of a water-newt as compared with a land one, with other details of the kind, He was ignorant as well as idle, and knew no

more where the violets grew on the Ash-tree root or the Hazel Copse where the blackbirds sang, than he did of that glorious land which Emeral-Crest talked of. At length his attentions were followed by Sheldrake, a pert young bird with a black top-knot, and young Lovefly, who boasted relationship with the King Rider, and had a cynical way of standing on his head in the water and splashing into the faces of those behind, for which little act of mischief he was cordially hated by his companions.

Poor Snowflake! her fate was fast being accomplished.

Of all these suitors none was so favoured as Swallow-Frog; his exultation consequently exceeded all bounds. Wherever Snowflake swam Swallow-Frog was sure to follow. Her days were miserable; and it was only the calm soft evening hours that brought Emerald-Crest, and with him transient happiness, that made life to her endurable.

She had not told him of her sorrow, she durst not think of his despair. But he saw that a blight had fallen upon her, and his gentle words and tender kindness made her lean more than ever on him for hope to cheer her through the trials that daylight brought.

Yes, their trial hour was coming, and their Bad fate on the eve of being accomplished.

It was one of those delicious dreamy evenings in July, when the moon looks down on earth as if in reverie, when the winds are hushed and the world is still, that Snowflake stole forth upon the water to meet her lover. He was awaiting her at the trysting-place, and there he won from her the sad avowal of her miseries.

The effect was electrical. His eyes gleamed, his jewelled crest stood upright with anger, his feathers rose and fell, and the waters were troubled with his restless movements.

It was some moments ere he spoke; at length, in a tone hoarse with emotion, he said:

"And I, too, have had my troubles, but I bore them for your sake. I will bear them no longer, neither shall you. This very night shall we seek that 'better land' of which I told you. Ah! Snowflake, it is a glorious land! Orange and citron trees wave their blossoms over what shall be our home; and the waters play with amber and make precious stones their toys."

"And do any of our own race live there?" asked Snowflake.

Crest, do not tempt me, leave me to myself; I will stay at home.'


"And be the bride of the odious and senseless Swallow-Frog. Be it so then. See me depart. Give myself up forever to him. I go to perish in a foreign land. My hopes blighted, and my very life a sacrifice to the caprice of one whom I once fondly believed had loved me. Farewell, then!"

"Stay, stay a moment, (ah! Pearl, for thy wiser counsel), I yield. Adieu, friends. Adieu, home. Adieu, scenes of my happy childhood, I leave ye forever! Emerald-Crest into thy hands I give myself, my life, my happiness, my all; and will go with thee even to the world's end."

"Yes," said Emerald-Crest; "there dwell the Gargany ducks, of whom I told you that, as the rainbow so is their plumage for its glorious tints. And the flowers. Ah! the flowers are of heaven's own painting. It is a fair and beautiful country, Snowflake; come away, dearest, come away!"

"Emerald Crest," said Snowflake, "it is beautiful if you say so, for a desert would be fair to me if you were there; but, ah me! what shall I do? If I go with you I can never come back any more, or see Pearl again; Emerald

And thus did Snowflake leave her home under the influence of excitement. And because of pride in the first instance and want of courage in the next did she neglect to advise with her natural guardians, and fall a victim in the end to her own indiscretion.

When morning dawned over the meadows and sunlight broke upon the stream, Snowflake had left those familiar scenes, once the little world where all she knew or thought of, or loved, were centred.

They sailed on through the clear soft air, Snowflake and Emerald-Crest. The feeling of elasticity and the happiness of being together gave them new strength and life, and for a time they forgot their woes.


Before night again veiled the earth in shadows they had reached the domains of the King Rider," who received his cousin and the beautiful companion of his wanderings with a royal welcome. She was the admiration of that gorgeous and magnificent court. Her spotless plumage, compared with the resplendent beauty of their richer hues, seemed the more lovely from the contrast. And when EmeraldCrest saw it he was proud of her and loved her the more.

The next day Snowflake said to him: "Let us away, dearest, this is no home for us; we were not made for courtly fêtes, and we love not homage nor adulation." Little recked she of her beauty, or knew all the pride which Emerald-Crest felt when he beheld her; she thought only of that distant land with its orange-groves and citron bowers, where she and Emerald-Crest would be always together, and never be separated more. Ere the evening came they had bid the Rider-ducks farewell.

It was late in the day when they set out for the shores of the Mediterranean, and it was with a boding heart that Emerald-Crest watched the sunset. He saw the orb fold its bright face in the glorious mantle of crimson and gold which spread over the western heavens. But when it dipped beneath the wide ocean as they, came in sight of it, and withdrew its brightness; that regal robe became a pall of black night e and it held the storm which the rising winds blew fiercely along. Thunder now rolled in the distance, and lightning glanced before the eyes

of the affrighted birds, whose strength, amidst the now raging storm, grew feebler, till, spent with fatigue and terror, they could hardly make their way through the air. The black rocks stood terribly out into the water, and the crested heads of the fearful waves gleamed fire as the red lightning shot over them; and the wind moaned and howled up and down, as if it sought a victim, and tore the waters and lashed them into foam, then flung them frothed and gurgling upon the rocks.

In a faint and feeble voice, almost drowned in the storm, Snowflake said:

"I am sinking fast. Farewell, my beloved, fly on. Do not stay for me, but live yet to be happy."

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Chains and necklaces have been worn as The fashion of wearing gold crosses can be feminine ornaments since the remotest period; traced to the beginning of the sixteenth century. thus Homer describes to us the amber and A portrait of Anne of Cleves shows her adorned gold necklace, set with precious stones, presented with three necklaces, to one of which a jewelled to Penelope by one of her suitors. Wealthy cross is attached. The priests vehemently Roman ladies wore them of gold and silver, assailed this custom from the pulpit, but the those of the lower classes of copper. It was the ladies held fast, and now and then added a custom to wind them round the waist as well heart of precious stones. Eventually an anchor as the neck, and to hang from them pearls and was placed with the other two, and hence we trinkets of various sizes. In France necklaces have the now ordinary symbols of Faith, Hope, were first worn by ladies in the reign of Charles and Charity. VII., who presented one of precious stones to Agnes Sorel. The gems were probably uncut, for the lady complained of them hurting her neck; but as the king admired it, she continued to wear it, saying that women might surely bear a little pain to please those they loved. The fashion, of course, was at once adopted by the ladies of the court, and soon became general. During the reign of Henri II. pearls were greatly in vogue for necklaces, as we find from the portraits of Diane de Poitiers and Mary Queen of Scots. The Queen Dowager of Prussia possesses a very beautiful pearl necklace, formed in a remarkable way. On the day of her marriage the king gave her a splendid pearl, and added one on each anniversary. An interesting anecdote about necklaces is connected with the Empress Eugénie. When the ruler of France marries, it is the custom for the city of Paris to present the bride with some costly gift. In 1853 the city of Paris voted the sum of 600,000 francs to purchase a diamond necklace for the Empress. But the young empress expressed a wish that the money should be worthily expended in founding a school for poor young girls in the Faubourg St. Antoine. This school, called Maison Eugénie Napoleon, was opened in 1857, and now shelters 400 girls, who are instructed by those excellent teachers the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul,

Clasps were first worn by the military to fasten their cloaks, but the fashion gradually became general with both sexes during the third and fourth centuries. These clasps be came with time excessively large, and represented the more modern fashion of brooches.

Girdles are of very great antiquity, and were used in lieu of a purse or pocket. The belt of the Roman ladies during the empire was formed in front like a stomacher, and set with precious stones. Hence we probably have the first idea of a corset. In the middle ages bankrupts used to surrender their girdles in open court. The reason was that, as they carried all articles of daily use in them, it was typical of a surrender of their estate. Taking off the belt was also a sign of doing homage. Although not fashionable now-a-days, jewelled girdles have their uses, as was proved when an attempt was made to assassinate the present Queen of Spain by the curate Merino. The point of the dagger, striking on the diamond belt, slipped aside, and only inflcted a harmless flesh-wound.

We have not space to describe in extenso all the ornaments of male and female use to which gems have been applied. For a time valuable snuff-boxes were considered indispensable by men, while ladies imitated the fashion by carrying a bonboniére. Shoe-buckles, too (which are reappearing), in the reign of Louis XVI. were so large as to cover the instep.

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Gold-headed canes, once the distinguishing
signs of physicians, who had a species of
smelling-box in the top to protect the wearer
from infection, are now rarely seen, except at
sea-side French watering-places, where the
Empress of France has brought them into
fashion again, and in the hands of state foot-


Rings have in all ages been regarded as the most important of all ornaments. As a symbol of spiritual alliance and insignia of eternal dignity they date back to the fourth century, when we find a ring used in the consecration of bishops. In conformity with the ancient usage recorded in scripture, the primitive Christian Church early adopted the ceremony of the ring of betrothal as a symbol of the authority which the husband gave the wife over his household, and over the earthly goods with which he endowed her.

"A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirmed by natural joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings."

In the ancient marriage ritual, the husband placed the ring on the first joint of the bride's thumb, saying, "In the name of the Father;" he then removed it to the forefinger with the words, "In the name of the Son;" then to the middle finger, adding, "And of the Holy Ghost;" finally the ring was left on the fourth finger, with the word "Amen!" About a century ago it was the custom to wear the marriage ring on the thumb, although at the nuptial ceremony it was placed on the fourth finger.

The coronation ring of the kings of England


NEW DRAMAS AND BURLESQUES.-REVIVAL stylish Columbus, Miss Constance Loseby and Miss E. Fowler are attractive actresses and good vocalists.


Our succeeding burlesque establishment is the new GLOBE theatre, in the Strand, under the management of Mr. Sefton Parry. Mr. J. Clarke (a quaint little comedian) is one of the able expositors of the comedy and farce element of the Globe stage. The "Corsican Bothers," the Globe burlesque, closely follows the plot of the ghostly play of the Princess's, but violently travesties the characters, as the apparition brother, Mr. J. Clarke, instead of gliding across the stage in the approved manner, most comia drunken man. cally stumbles along, like Miss Brennan, as Chateau Renaud, and Miss Hughes, as Emile de Lesparée, are fully entitled to mention for their sprightly acting.

The theatrical barometer during the month of May has marked to frequent "change," and indicated fluctuations in the aura-popularis of the most erratic kinds. The production of new pieces has been attended with stormy results, and attested that there was danger in agitating the Lethe in which the theatrical deities have so long luxuriously disported. Half-a-dozen new dramas and as many burlesques have seen the light-albeit without very strong constitutions in any case.

As we shall hardly be called upon to trouble the readers of this page with the details of the burlesque literature, we shall dismiss the latest novelties of this description briefly.

is plain gold, with a large violet table ruby, whereon a plain cross of St. George is curiously engraved. The queen's ring is also of gold, with a large table ruby and sixteen small diamonds round the ring. Nor must we omit the curious Venetian fashion of the Doge of Venice wedding the Adriatic. Annually for six hundred years, the magnificently-appointed Bucentaur bore the Doge to the shores of the Lido, near the mouth of the harbour. Here, letting a ring fall into the bosom of his bride, the bridegroom uttered the words, "We wed thee with this ring in token of our true and perpetual sovereignty." Napoleon I. dissolved the marriage, and the couple never came together again.

Among ring curiosities we may mention the gimmal, often alluded to in old writers. It is composed of twin or double hoops, fitting so exactly into each other that, when united, they form but one circlet. Each hoop is generally surmounted by a hand, the two being clasped when the rings are brought together. One hoop was sometimes of gold, and the other of silver. The custom of wearing inourning-rings is ancient: thus we find Shakspeare bequeathing to John Henninge, H. Burbage, and Henry Condell "twenty-six shillings eightpence apiece to buy them rings." Rings were also given away to attendants on the day of their master's marriage. The fashion of wearing thumb-rings is very ancient in England. When the tomb of the Venerable Bede was opened in 1831, a large thumb-ring of iron, covered with a thick coating of gold, was found in the place which the right hand had occupied before it fell into dust.

The most remarkable feature of the new extravaganza or opera-buffa "Columbus,” produced at the GAIETY theatre, is the superb scenery; the dresses, too are very rich and gaudy; also there is a grand ballet, with a new danseuse from Madrid (Mdlle. Rosseri), a lady of rare saltatory abilities and gymnastic capabilities of leg. Miss E. Farren made a very

"Asmodeus," the burlesque at the new QUEEN'S, is not the least worthy of the new extravaganzas, and we hear draws good houses, in association with the comedy of " Seraphine," its piece de resistance. Apropos of Seraphine head our notices of dramatic novelties of a higher character than the burlesques, by a


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