the imperial family always took part in the battues, the empress's skill with her gun being very remarkable.

All the chroniclers of the time are full of a wonderful entertainment- the most extraordinary spectacle ever witnessed in modern times," a friend of Lagarde called it-styled a" carrousel," which took place in the beginning of December. It was a sort of assault-at-arms held in the imperial riding-school. The number of spectators was limited to a thousand, all specially invited by the court. The seats at one end of the building were reserved for the royalties. Those at the other, for the patronesses of the fête, twenty-four young ladies of the highest families in Vienna, chosen specially for their beauty. They were divided into four companies, distinguished by the color of their mantles, one being black, a second scarlet, a third crimson, and a fourth blue. The competitors, at tired in antique Spanish dress, were similarly divided into corresponding bands. The main body of spectators consisted of the chief members of the Austrian aristocracy and the corps diplomatique. Among those who attracted most attention were Prince Esterhazy, in a hussar uniform entirely embroidered with the finest pearls and diamonds, valued at four million florins; and Lady Castlereagh, tremendous as usual in tawdry finery, but specially conspicuous on this occasion with her husband's Order of the Garter worn as an ornament in her hair. The entertainment resembled the military tournaments of our own day, and consisted of tent-pegging, lemon-slicing, and riding at the ring. It concluded with a quadrille on horseback, in which all the competitors took part, accompanied by their squires. Every one then proceeded to the palace, where a great banquet and ball took place.

Besides those officially concerned therein, the congress attracted crowds of visitors from every country. Vienna during the winter of 1814 became a sort of rendezvous for the European aristocracy. They thronged to the Austrian capital, partly to share in the gayeties of the congress, partly to congratulate one another that the bd times were over at last. Owing to the extraordinary changes of the last twenty-five years, friends who had been separated for many a long day were now able to meet again and talk over their vicissitudes. Some who at the beginning

of the period had been wealthy French nobles were now penniless adventurers, earning a precarious living as underlings in the service of some foreign state. Others, especially military men, had prospered beyond their wildest dreamns. General Tettenborn, of the Russian staff, was an example of the latter. In 1809, after the marriage of Napoleon with Marie Louise, he had been sent to the Austrian embassy in Paris as military attaché. "I need not enter into any detail of the gay life I led in Paris," said he in a naïf confession to Lagarde, "France was then in the zenith of her prosperity and glory, and the Austrian embassy enjoyed the marked favor of the court. Amid the universal revelry, I unfortunately neglected to balance my expenditure with my receipts. My creditors became impatient, and I soon found that the only means of extricating myself was to quit the scene of temptation." However, this proved to be the beginning of greatness. Tettenborn returned for a time to his regiment, then stationed in an Austrian village, where life was very dull. When therefore war broke out between France and Russia, the young soldier, like a true condottiere, offered his sword to the Tsar. He distinguished himself greatly in the campaign of Moscow. His first stroke of luck was the capture of Napoleon's military chest, "a considerable part of its contents falling to his lot by way of reward." He was given the command of Hamburg after the expulsion of Davoust; and so high was the value set on his services that at the end of the war he was raised to the rank of general, and received an estate in Westphalia valued at 40,000 florins a year. It is pleasant to notice that Tettenborn's first act on coming into his good fortune was to pay his creditors in Paris to the full. Few of those present at Vienna had gone through such a strange career as the Countess Rosalie Reze woffski. Her mother, Princess Lubomirski, had at the time of the French Revolution been resident in Paris. Rashly remaining there during the Reign of Terror, she had been arrested as a spy and placed in the Conciergerie. After a hasty trial she was condemned and executed, leaving behind her, alone in the French metropolis, a daughter, Rosalie, aged five. The orphan found a protectress in the kind-hearted Citoyenne Bertot, the prison laundress.

At last peace came in 1801. Numerous foreign visitors began to appear at Paris, and among them was Count Rezewoffski, brother of Princess Lubomirski, eager to discover the secret of his sister's fate. He obtained full information as to her arrest, imprisonment, and execution. But the authorities of the Conciergerie had lost sight of Madame Bertot, and he was unable to discover the slightest trace of his niece Rosalie. One morning, however, while crossing the courtyard of his hotel, he met a young girl carrying a basket of linen. She bore such a striking resemblance to his dead sister that the count was amazed. He hurriedly demanded her name, and was delighted to receive the hoped-for answer-Rosalie. He then accompanied her to the dwelling of the Bertots, where he thanked the astonished laundress for her kindness to his niece. On returning to Poland with Rosalie, he took Madame Bertot and her children with him. The boys were educated at Wilna at his expense and received commissions in the Polish army. The girls, richly dowered by the count, were wedded to Polish gentlemen. Rosalie herself, on coming to years of discretion, married her cousin, the younger Count Rezewoffski.

Perhaps the most significant examples of capricious fortune were to be found in the ex-empress of the French, Marie Louise, and her little son, the young Napoleon, or, as he was styled in Vienna, the Prince of Parma. Having placed herself under the protection of her father after Napoleon's abdication, Marie Louise had come to Vienna with her child. She lived very quietly in the suburbs, at Schönbrunn, and took no part in the festivities of the congress. Marie Louise had inherited her father's cold heart and apathetic mind. She seemed in no way upset by the sudden change in her position, and was quite content to sit at home playing duets with Baron Neipperg, with whom she subsequently contracted a morganatic marriage. Her little son was naturally an object of intense interest. Visitors to the congress crowded to Schönbrunn to see him. He was a lovely child, with fair complexion, and silky golden hair falling in curls upon his shoulders, and charmed everybody by his gentle ways and artless prattle.

Prince de Ligne. Born in 1735, of an old and wealthy Belgian family, Charles Joseph, Prince de Ligne, had entered the Austrian army in 1752. He served with great credit through the Seven Years' War, and was made a major-general at the coronation of Joseph II. in 1780. He then entered the Russian service, and held a command at the storming of Oczakoff in 1788. He was a great favorite with the Tsarina, Catherine II., and accompanied her in her celebrated journey through the Crimea. In 1789 he resumed his duties in the Austrian army. He received the rank of field-marshal in 1808, and was also colonel of the regiment of Trabans. The Prince de Ligne was one of those persons who, though of independent character, have a natural genius for winning the esteem of sovereigns. A great traveller, he was equally welcome at Versailles, Vienna, and St. Petersburg. To a noble bearing and unsullied reputation he added the possession of great literary abilities. His mélanges littéraires are as conspicuous for extent of knowledge as for perfection of style. According to Madame de Stäel, he is the only foreigner who has ever become a model to French writers in their own language. Though in his eightieth year, he was still remarkable for his fondness for society. He assiduously attended all the festivities of the congress, and was much in request owing to his knowledge of the world, and his skill as a raconteur. He loved the companionship of young men, and used to give them much advice, of the kind that would now be termed fin de siècle. Enjoy your youth while it lasts," he used to tell them, and adopt as your maxim, carelessness till twenty-five, gayety till forty, and philosophy to the end of life."

One of the best-known characters in Vienna at this time was Field-Marshal the

In the beginning of December, while the congress was still in full swing, he caught a chill whien confined him to his room. Erysipelas set in, and the doctors were compelled to inform him that his time was come. The Prince de Ligne received the dread summons as gayly as he would have accepted an invitation to a dance or a challenge to a duel. will be sorry," he remarked, "to relieve the monotony of pleasure by the funeral of a field-marshal." He drew up a dissertation in which fourteen reasons were given for not fearing death. He spoke approvingly of Petronius Arbiter who,

"No one

the imperial family always took part in the battues, the empress's skill with her gun being very remarkable.

་

All the chroniclers of the time are full of a wonderful entertainment—“the most extraordinary spectacle ever witnessed in modern times," a friend of Lagarde called it-styled a "carrousel," which took place in the beginning of December. It was a sort of assault-at-arms held in the imperial riding-school. The number of spectators was limited to a thousand, all specially invited by the court. The seats at one end of the building were reserved for the royalties. Those at the other, for the patronesses of the fête, twenty-four young ladies of the highest families in Vienna, chosen specially for their beauty. They were divided into four companies, distinguished by the color of their mantles, one being black, a second scarlet, a third crimson, and a fourth blue. The competitors, attired in antique Spanish dress, were similarly divided into corresponding bands. The main body of spectators consisted of the chief members of the Austrian aris

tocracy and the corps diplomatique. Among those who attracted most attention were Prince Esterhazy, in a hussar uniform entirely embroidered with the finest pearls and diamonds, valued at four million florins; and Lady Castlereagh, tremendous as usual in tawdry finery, but specially conspicuous on this occasion with her husband's Order of the Garter worn as an ornament in her hair. The entertainment resembled the military tournaments of our own day, and consisted of tent-pegging, lemon-slicing, and riding at the ring. It concluded with a quadrille on horseback, in which all the competitors took part, accompanied by their squires. Every one then proceeded to the palace, where a great banquet and ball took place.

Besides those officially concerned therein, the congress attracted crowds of visitors from every country. Vienna during the winter of 1814 became a sort of rendezvous for the European aristocracy. They thronged to the Austrian capital, partly to share in the gayeties of the congress, partly to congratulate one another that the bd times were over at last. Owing to the extraordinary changes of the last twenty-five years, friends who had been separated for many a long day were now able to meet again and talk over their vicissitudes. Some who at the beginning

of the period had been wealthy French nobles were now penniless adventurers, earning a precarious living as underlings in the service of some foreign state. Others, especially military men, had prospered beyond their wildest dreams. General Tettenborn, of the Russian staff, was an example of the latter. In 1809, after the marriage of Napoleon with Marie Louise, he had been sent to the Austrian embassy in Paris as military attaché. "I need not enter into any detail of the gay life I led in Paris," said he in a naïf confession to Lagarde, "France was then in the zenith of her prosperity and glory, and the Austrian embassy enjoyed the marked favor of the court. Amid the universal revelry, I unfortunately neglected to balance my expenditure with my receipts. My creditors became impatient, and I soon found that the only means of extricating myself was to quit the scene of temptation." tion." However, this proved to be the beginning of greatness. Tettenborn returned for a time to his regiment, then stationed in an Austrian village, where life was very dull. When therefore war broke out between France and Russia, the young soldier, like a true condottiere, offered his sword to the Tsar. He distinguished himself greatly in the campaign of Moscow. His first stroke of luck was the capture of Napoleon's military chest, "a considerable part of its contents falling to his lot by way of reward." He was given the command of Hamburg after the expulsion of Davoust; and so high was the value set on his services that at the end of the war he was raised to the rank of general, and received an estate in Westphalia valued at 40,000 florins a year. It is pleasant to notice that Tettenborn's first act on coming into his good fortune was to pay his creditors in Paris to the full. Few of those present at Vienna had gone through such a strange career as the Countess Rosalie Rezewoffski. Her mother, Princess Lubomirski, had at the time of the French Revolution been resident in Paris. Rashly remaining there during the Reign of Terror, she had been arrested as a spy and placed in the Conciergerie. After a hasty trial she was condemned and executed, leaving behind her, alone in the French metropolis, a daughter, Rosalie, aged five. The orphan found a protectress in the kind-hearted Citoyenne Bertot, the prison laundress.

At last peace came in 1801. Numerous foreign visitors began to appear at Paris, and among them was Count Rezewoffski, brother of Princess Lubomirski, eager to discover the secret of his sister's fate. He obtained full information as to her arrest, imprisonment, and execution. But the authorities of the Conciergerie had lost sight of Madame Bertot, and he was unable to discover the slightest trace of his niece Rosalie. One morning, however, while crossing the courtyard of his hotel, he met a young girl carrying a basket of linen. She bore such a striking resemblance to his dead sister that the count was amazed. He hurriedly demanded her name, and was delighted to receive the hoped-for answer-Rosalie. He then accompanied her to the dwelling of the Bertots, where he thanked the astonished laundress for her kindness to his niece. On returning to Poland with Rosalie, he took Madame Bertot and her children with him. The boys were educated at Wilna at his expense and received commissions in the Polish army. The girls, richly dowThe girls, richly dowered by the count, were wedded to Polish gentlemen. Rosalie herself, on coming to years of discretion, married her cousin, the younger Count Rezewoffski.

Perhaps the most significant examples of capricious fortune were to be found in the ex-empress of the French, Marie Louise, and her little son, the young Napoleon, or, as he was styled in Vienna, the Prince of Parma. Having placed herself under the protection of her father after Napoleon's abdication, Marie Louise had come to Vienna with her child. She lived very quietly in the suburbs, at Schönbrunn, and took no part in the festivities of the congress. Marie Louise had inherited her father's cold heart and apathetic mind. She seemed in no way upset by the sudden change in her position, and was quite content to sit at home playing duets with Baron Neipperg, with whom she subsequently contracted a morganatic marriage. Her little son was naturally an object of intense interest. Visitors to the congress crowded to Schönbrunn to see him. He was a lovely child, with fair complexion, and silky golden hair falling in curls upon his shoulders, and charmed everybody by his gentle ways and artless prattle.

One of the best-known characters in Vienna at this time was Field-Marshal the

Prince de Ligne. Born in 1735, of an old and wealthy Belgian family, Charles Joseph, Prince de Ligne, had entered the Austrian army in 1752. He served with great credit through the Seven Years' War, and was made a major-general at the coronation of Joseph II. in 1780. He then entered the Russian service, and held a command at the storming of Oczakoff in 1788. He was a great favorite with the Tsarina, Catherine II., and accompanied her in her celebrated journey through the Crimea. In 1789 he resumed his duties in the Austrian army. He received the rank of field-marshal in 1808, and was also colonel of the regiment of Trabans. The Prince de Ligne was one of those persons who, though of independent character, have a natural genius for winning the esteem of sovereigns. A great traveller, he was equally welcome at Versailles, Vienna, and St. Petersburg. To a noble bearing and unsullied reputation he added the possession of great literary abilities. His mélanges littéraires are as conspicuous for extent of knowledge as for perfection of style. According to Madame de Stäel, he is the only foreigner who has ever become a model to French writers in their own language. Though in his eightieth year, he was still remarkable for his fondness for society. He assiduously attended all the festivities of the congress, and was much in request owing to his knowledge of the world, and his skill as a raconteur. He loved the companionship of young men, and used to give them much advice, of the kind that would now be termed fin de siècle." Enjoy your youth while it lasts," he used to tell them, and adopt as your maxim, carelessness till twenty-five, gayety till forty, and philosophy to the end of life."

66

In the beginning of December, while the congress was still in full swing, he caught a chill whien confined him to his room. Erysipelas set in, and the doctors were compelled to inform him that his time was come. The Prince de Ligne received the dread summons as gayly as he would have accepted an invitation to a dance or a challenge to a duel. "No one will be sorry," he remarked, "to relieve the monotony of pleasure by the funeral of a field-marshal." He drew up a dissertation in which fourteen reasons were given for not fearing death. He spoke approvingly of Petronius Arbiter who,

Sansloys of the "Faerie Queene." Every reader of sense derives the keenest satisfaction from the names of the diverting population of Bunyan's Vanity Fair-Sir Having Greedy, my Lord Fair-speech, and Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Love-lust and Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady and Mr. Highmind. The reason is clear. Here we are in a world of allegory. The aim is to teach the reader, not to take him in with a show of reality. Here we are only one step removed from the old miracle-play, with its abstract virtues and vices brought on to the stage without any pretence of substantial personification. Bunyan's narrative may beguile us till we follow the combat between Christian and Apollyon with a zest like that with which we watch one of D'Artagnan's feats of swordsmanship, or Jan Ridd's prowess with his fists; yet all the while we remain aware that Christian is not a man, but a personified type.

Let us go a step nearer to the novel. Of the inotley crowd who people the English comic stage, a large proportion are signed in the forehead with these directly significant names-from Madge Mumblecrust and Tibet Talkapace of Ralph Roister Doister, down to the Surfaces, Teazles, Crabtrees, Backbites, Absolutes, and Languishes of Sheridan, to come no later. What a world to live in, were it real! Carlyle had a vision of an unclothed world, where the robes should fall from king and courtier, leaving only so many forked radishes, with heads fantastically carved. But the ensuing chaos would be order compared with this world of exposed souls. The commerce of life would be at a standstill. What way could be found of being genial with Morose or confidential with Sir Giles Overreach, or with what countenance should we introduce Sir Amorous la Foole to the ladies of our family? We should have to stuff our handkerchiefs down our throats on being gravely introduced to Sir Fopling Flutter and Major Oldfox, unless, perchance, unseasonable mirth were checked by the reflection that our own style and title had to be given in exchange as Danie Pliaut or Sir Epicure Mammon. Why do not such. Why do not such absurdities, such patent unrealities, mar our interest in the great comedies? Simply because the world of the comic stage is not, nor is it presented as, the every-day world of decently disguised souls and

bodies. This very unreality, the making transparent of opaque realities, is a chief element in the delightfulness of the comic drama. "The Comic Spirit," says Mr. Meredith, in his introductory remarks to "The Egoist," "has not a thought of persuading you to believe in him. Being a spirit, he hunts the spirit in men: vision and ardor constitute his merit." It is noteworthy that it is only in his comedy characters that Mr. Meredith allows himself the use of such significant names as that "masterpiece of scientific nomenclature," Sir Willoughby Patterne. For comedy, we settle ourselves in our seats and adjust our opera-glasses, and lay ourselves out to extract the uttermost measure of critical amusement from the sayings and doings of the cleverly constructed world beyond the footlights. Illusion of reality is not sought. Significant names are a part of the game, like the other conventions of the stage, from soliloquy to rouge and powder. They have many special advantages in comedy. They do for the comic dramatist what a well-known story did for the ancient tragedians, or for Shakespeare in his historical plays,-they give to the gestures and speeches of the actors pungency of irony and piquancy of revelation. But a comedy must be something more than an allegory. There must be a counterbalancing measure of realism. The comic dramatist must make you so far take his dramatis persona for men and women, as shall enable you to sympathize with their feelings and lose yourself in their fortunes. A proper regard for young Absolute will not allow us to remember too rigorously Lydia's disparaging maiden name; and we are glad to be beguiled by the realistic touch given by old Absolute that she was not one of the Languishes of Worcestershire, but was the Miss Languish who came with her aunt, Mrs. Malaprop, into their country just before Jack was last ordered to his regiment.

According as the element of allegory or the element of realism predominates in the artist's method, will be the wisdom or unwisdom of employing realistic or allegorical names. Where allegory predominates, where our attention is directed chiefly to the skill of the dramatists in showing up the foibles of humanity, and winding mean and vicious actions into situations of laughable entanglement, then names which point the character and ex