The one error having, however, begotten suspicion, his accounts were accurately examined, and alarming deficiencies discovered. A letter was sent to Mr. Christmas to request him to wait upon the firm at nine o'clock on the following Monday morning. He did so. Not one of the gentlemen arrived until eleven, although their punctuality was proverbial.

Mr. Christmas

The whole truth was now developed. had for nine years gambled in the stocks, partly on his own account, and partly on account of a lady of title. Of the extent of his scheme, our readers will form an idea, when we say that within six months he hazarded 968,000l. in time bargains. On this amount he lost 7,000l., which, we believe, was the whole of his deficiency. For the correctness of these details, we appeal to the partners in the banking firm; nay, as far as she is concerned, to Mrs. Christmas herself, who repented too late of her rashness.

This affair, however, bore an awkward colour, and the facts upon a superficial view to the public, seemed thus→→→ That he had conducted himself with industry, economy, and propriety, until he came under the influence of this enchantress-that he then launched out into extravagance-robbed his employers to support her-was detected, and punished. But the fact is otherwise; in their new situation they had been but a month or six weeks, and the most unbounded and unheard of extravagance, followed up in this short month, could not have produced the effect.

One thing it may be necessary for us to avouch-that is, that the servants of Mr. Christmas always treated Mrs. Chatterley as his sister, and always received their wages from Madame Simeon. And if it were necessary to adduce any further proof of the fact, that lady eventually paid for the furniture that was placed in the house, for the joint accommodation of Mr. Christmas and herself.

The letter of Mr. Christmas, published in the journals, fully cleared our heroine in the minds of the unprejudiced, and we know that the greatest part of Mr. Christmas's regret was caused by the sorrow and vituperation he had

drawn upon her head, and the pccuniary embarrassment he had caused her.

The public seemed to have properly estimated our heroine. She had been imprudent--not criminal, and accordingly they received her, on her appearance, after publicity had been given to these disagreeable circumstances, without disapprobation, but without any particular testimonials of applause, and she re-embarked in the pursuit of her profession, as if the occurrences had never been.

Mr. Christmas left this country under favourable countenance, and is not likely to be exposed to any of the hardships or disgrace commonly attendant on the punishment to which he was subjected. We profess ourselves enemies to the disclosure of "tales of the ton," but it is notorious that our heroine indignantly refused the offers of a dashing nobleman, who tendered her a life-provision for herself and son, of more than she could ever expect to make annually by her profession, even supposing her powers and charms to last to her latest moment of existence. On this refusal being named in the Green-room, and the offer of securing an independence to the son being particularly mentioned, a certain actress is reported to have exclaimed-" And she refused it!-what hearts some mothers have !"

The acting of Mrs. Chatterley was in the French school, chastened and sobered down by observation of English manners. She was a cold and artificial actress, though a very fascinating one, but this fascination was peculiar. Madame Vestris is fascinating-so was Miss Foote, now Countess of Harrington; but their fascinations not only differ with regard to themselves, but highly as regards our heroine-who had an archness, a coquetry of expression, completely a-la-mode de Paris, and quite removed from anything of the luxurious or the sensual. Mrs. Chatterley never appeared to us to be in earnest-her heart never seemed engaged-her eyes sparkled, but it was not with the fire of love, but the consciousness of internal power-rather with the pleasure of self contemplation, than the rapture of contemplating any

other object. Mrs. Chatterley's acting, though in a different line, was in the Siddonian school, and excluded all impulsive effort.

Her Violante and Lady Teazle were both talented assumptions-but they were assumptions. There was no appearance of self-abandonment, of giving way to the feelings of nature; and even in the reconciliation with Don Felix, when the whole soul of Violante is softened into love, Mrs. Chatterley wore a self-approving smile, that spoke more of the feelings of the coquetish mistress than the adoring wife. Her Juliana, in the Honey Moon, fell off in the fourth and fifth acts, and from the same cause. Her Mrs. Lovemore (Way to Keep Him), was the best we have seen; but there the acting of Mrs. Lovemore requires the suppression of feeling, and the artificial colouring of gaiety, and may be therefore said to be exactly in her line.

Of those parts in which she assumed male attire, we need not speak; she was too pleasing in the habiliments of her own sex, to please us much when she assumed others, and we refer our readers to our remarks upon Madame Vestris on this subject.

On her performance in Twelve Precisely, only one opinion can be formed-it was admirable. She was beyond all doubt the best French woman on the stage; and her puppyish officer (introduced in the only way in which a woman in boy's clothes should be introduced, as an assumed character) was very entertaining. She spoke the Hibernian dialect, too, with considerable precision.

About 1822 and 1823, Mrs. Chatterley was very attractive in the metropolis, but she afterwards sank into comparative obscurity, and though recognised as a talented actress, did not draw. But she need not regret this-it is the fate of her ill-fated profession. And when Kean and Miss Stephens, now Countess of Essex, ceased to attract, Mrs. Chatterley need not repine at her lot.

Mrs. Chatterly was not so good an actress as Mrs. Davenport by many degrees, nor (though in the same style)

did she possess so many qualifications as Mrs. Edwin; but she was superior to Miss Chester, and, we think, equal to Mrs. Yates.

She was above the common height, with expressive and intelligent blue eyes; her face was too flat to be called beautiful, but it was certainly what is termed pretty.

LOUISA TURNER.

Perhaps one of the most gorgeous beauties of the present day is Louisa Turner, and as she has some claim to be considered an actress, having sported her fair person upon the boards of the Queen's Theatre, when under the management of G. Wild, and since again at a benefit, we have a right to give her a place amongst the dramatic beauties!

It has been said that beauty loses its charms when unaccompanied by virtue. There is much truth in this, and it forcibly strikes upon our senses, when we reflect, that these unhappy creatures are disgracing their sublime nature by offering themselves, set off to the best advantage, to the highest bidder, like cattle at a market, and careless whether they fall into the hands of wanton youth or debilitated old age, and this in the broad glare of day, in contempt and defiance of woman's peculiar and divine attribute-modesty.

In the dazzling hemisphere of the French capital once resided, under the protection of a member of the present Royal Family of France, the beautiful and accomplished Louisa Turner. Louisa was said to be the illegitimate daughter of an officer in the army. Her mother was, and now is, a woman possessing considerable beauty. At a very early age Mrs. Turner, who had a large family to support upon the slender profits arising from a small glove shop in Charlton-street, Regent-street, through the interest of friends placed Louisa as a pupil at the Royal Academy of Music: being fond of the study, she made great progress in it. At about fourteen years of age she was introduced to the choir and the ballet of the Italian Opera-house, and to this circumstance her deviation from the paths of virtue may be entirely attributed. The stage of the Opera is the