THE GARDEN.

(By Hoktus,)

Calendar of Operations. May 21st, 1883.

Kitcii'_. Garden,—Daring the late lino • weather, all the. debris of the late crop?i should have been cleared away, and the ground heavily manured with wcll rot ted manure, and turned up roughly to tb c air. Tomatoes not ripened, pick aud P' at iv some warm place, where the suu c an get to them. The asparagus beds, it i die haulm has ripened, cut dowu anil clear away ; re-fork the beds, give a good ■dressing of well-rotted manure and a libera! sprinkling of salt Forked well into the ground, Sea-weed is best if it can be pro cured. Make a sowing of broad beans for early spring use. Earth up all crops, as they require it. Look out for slugs. Flower GATtDRN. — While the fine weather lasts, still continue making alter ations in this department. The late frosts will have nipped buck a few of the tender plants. Obrysauthemums and salvias should vow be in full (lower. Continue planting out bulbs. Camellias will be coming into ilower. When good blooms tire wanted, pluck off all weak or interior buds.' which will improve the sizi and quality of those left. Ail bulbs and tubers which aro at rest during tho winter .should be marked or lablcd so as to iudicate their whereabouts. Transplant out some of the hardy annuals for early spring t!ovrerin;r. Grbkbhotjsk.—Give the house a general overhaul; wa-h all the glass and wood work with soap and water, and tho walls with lituo ami water, Before the plants ate replaced ou the stage, wash the pots and remove a little of the old soil from tho sur face ; replace well tvitha little fresh c.im post—a mixture of loam and sand is the best for this purpose. Look to see if the drainage of every plant is in perfect order at this season, which is easily done by taking the plant from tho pot nod looking at tho bottom. If correct, return the plant. Azaleas, camellia*, and heaths in pot should vow bo brought into :t prominent place in the house for flowering. Never allow those plants to suffer for want of water.

SmtOßU.uiES.—Thore-arrangomcnt, thin ning out, or planting of uew shrubs may now be commenced as soon as p issiblc. The end ot May and beginning of June is the best, bein^ preferable to spring, because of the longer period tltare is for the plants to get establish t'd before there is any danecr of drought affecting them. Three weeks ngo I transplanted four large shrubs, ono of which was twelve feet in height and ioik three men to cany, and tht-y do not appear to have suffered in the least from the re moval. Tney wero root-pruned last spring, sons to remove this autumn.

L&WNS.—Tins is the best seusou for re newing lawns. There aro generally threo methods of uuiuy mi.s. First—to-digging and ro-sowing. Second—turfing. Aud third—top-dressing aud re-sowing. The lir.-t—rc-diggiug, i considor lite most ob jectionable. The place is kept a long time in disordar. It kills nut all the good permanent grasses which tuny be In the lawn, and by sowing fresh -eed the chances are that the lawn in two or three years after wants rencwiug again. Secondly— turfing, the best method of all to secure a good permanent lawn. If good turf cau be obtained and the expense is no consi deration, we would say turf. By this means a good lawn cau be obtained at onco. Thirdly—top-dressing aud re-sowing, 1 consider tho best for Now Zealand, where good turf is not always to be obtained. During May, have thi? grass on the lawn cut as short as possible. Give the ground a good dressing of rough bones and lime : and if you want to introduce more per manent grass;* into the lawn, get turf of those grasses uud cut it up into llttlo squares of about three inches; put these in the gtound (about one foot apart) where required. Then get some good soil, wheel it all over the surface, covering the whole lawn for about a fourth part of an inch. Some lawns will require a greater quantity. See that the soil is properly worked in about tho old grnss. When the whole lawn is covered, rake over the surface, sow grass seed, re-rake, and then put on the roller. The old grass will come through tho ground again. Tho permanent grass irom the little squares will also como through, and iv lime will spread all over the sutface of tho lawn, killing out the rye grass. Iv about two years a lawn treated iv this manner will be as good as a turfed one, with care. The process of using the small squares of turf is called salting, and 1 would highly recommend it to those whose lawns require renewing. Tho best method of making new lawns will be dealt with in a f utute paper.

Fruit-Growing.

rest Time foii Pla.nti_c;.-With re gatd to the best season for planting fruit trees, many let it stand over till early in the Bpring, which is not advisable. Tree 3 should be lifted aad planted out again as soon at the leaves show any indication of going to.rekt. Tha tree is then in an almost dormant state, acd when lifted iv this condition, iho little sap which is still descending hastens tho formation of line, healthy, fibrous rjotlets, I have Been them make about two to three inches of roots in a few weeks if lifted early, Pfars and plums should b: lifted and planted, if possible, about the middle or cud of May; apples should be lifted about tho begin ning or middle of June ; peaches and nec tarines, the same time as pears. Lifting and planting at this season causes the young fibres to push out into the soil in their new situation, and at once ripens off the wood and gives the trees a longer rest daring the winter. Now, it is fre quently the reverse with trees planted late in the spring. Often they do not start very strong, and the hot, dry summer is upon them before they are well-established, ond from this cause alone a good □umber of trees are lost or irreparably dam aged every seusou, .specially when thoy are planted on ground unimproved -and a good number of trees arc planted here every ytar on ground which has never been under cul tivation. Holes aro simply dug and the trees planted. If such is done late iv spring, it is no wondt-r that tho trcos din. When ground of thi» class has to be planted, al ways plant nt the ond of May or June. Last season the force of circumstances com pelled me to plant trees on unimproved noil late in spring. Tho result of it was that about one-third ot the trees died or got stunted, and will havp to be replaced this season. The trees should, if possible, all beon the ground before planting commences, and all healed in ;or rather, a trench should be dug and the roots placed iv tbe trench and covered up with soil, arranging them in the order in which they arc to be planted. Only plant in fine weather or when the soil is dry—never when it is wet or clayey. When tha aro favourable, commence the planting by taking the lirtit row of holes (I presume they have been previously dag as directed); tako two stakes, place one in the centre of the first row perpendicularly, anothor in tho last hole iv tho same lino. Commence then by taking about one dozen trots in your hand at a time, anti, beginning at the first hole two men are required to plant trees

properly), fill up the hole with good surface soil (not sub-soil) to the height required, place a tree in tho centre, and the tree will give you a line with the two stakes. This will Iteep the trees in line. When such has beau obtained, spread out all the roots away from the tree as near as possible in their natural position. While one man holds the tree upright, let another put in good surface soil, care being taken to fill in around the roots so as to leave no spaces. Tress tho earth down firmly with the foot, and fill it up with loose soil, leaving the tree planted the same depth as it grew in the nursery. • iToceed iv the same manner till all are planted. Many people are in the habit of planting too deep, which is a very bad practice. i>(tep roots, as a rule, favour sterility, Those which are shallow and skim alon_ the surface as it were, in a iiue mass of fibrous rootlets, favour fertility. Some put manure iv the holes with the roots. This is another bad practice. M inure, when used, should never come iv contact witn the roots; place it where the roots will find it. Stake and tie each trte firmly, to prevent the wind from swaying it backwards and forwards, thereby creating a puddle at the r»ots Dull days aro the best for planting ; bright sutitiy oues injuriously dry the exposed routs, which aro some time in recovering.

Caoica of Ihees.—lu choosing fruit trees from the nurßory, never select the strong rank growing plants. Certainly, if you want to grow timber with those trees, and 'f your soil is good strong rank growth, they might answer your purpose. As a rulo, such have all the eloments in their constitution tor making wood, and to biiug them early iuto a fruit-bearing condition, they receive more attentiou both iv pruning and pinching. The troes referred to ato usually known by their tall and lanky growth ; bark, a pule, light urecn ; wood, soft and having au unripe appear ance ; buds lar apart and not well devel oped. Trees of the above ola-s are not well suited foj" fruitiug early. i,f course, after a low yoats, they will come uaturiily into fruit, hut it takes time. As most peopte want to got tkoir fruit trees into bearing us soon as possible, the best trees to purchase are trees of a medium size, thnt have been hardy grown, and wood well I'iponod. Tlicy will take better to the soil under their altered circumstances. Trees of this class are known by being shorter of growth, the bark a darker colour, wood firmer aud closer grained, buds closer together aud bettor developed, and they havo all the elements requisite for pro ducing fruit early, if care be taken with them, The above conditions are more pahily understood by the initiated than ex plained. BKUSCTiON OF Vaiubtiks.—We, as fruit growers in Mew Zealand, have yet much to learu in adapting the dillerent varieties r.f fruit to suit the varied soil* aud situations which abouud here ; and if one were to apply his whole intelligouco and put forth his best ouort'ies, ho could not hope to live lonx enough to attain perfection iv this subject, I shall therefore confine my re marks to a few geuerul indications ot what varieties will suit some soils. I iieliev." the best soil for the npple (Northern Spy stock) pear ou pear stock, plum ou plum stock, to bo a good strong friable ioam. Even a good friable clay pro duces good crops of tho above, if it is well worked and the sub-soil is not too re tentive. Some of the varieties succeed well on a lighter or sand loam, and perhaps will produce higher-coloured and higher ilavourcd fruit than on a heavy soil, while a light suudy soil for the apple and pear is the most unfavourable of all, unless it bj a cold heavy soil on a retentive bottom, which is almost worthless for any kind of fruit tree. For apricot or pear, on quince stock; peach, plum on peach stock ; and cherry—a good deep mellow soil is the best. The peach and apticot will succeed well on even sandy soil, if not too poor and thin. Where the situation is dry, the pear on quiajo stock is preferable to the pear ou its own roots, Ou deep strong soil, with a southern exposure, trees will make stronger growth, and will be longer in eomiug into a fruit-bearing condition, than on a lighter soil with a warm northern exposure. In dry, warm climates the oraiuary orchard trees do not attain so large a size as in colder climates, where rains are more frequent during the growing season, and where a consider able size is somotimes attained before fruiting. Here iv our lino climate, trees under proper management ought to fruit earlier thtm iv colder climates, but will not continue fruiting to such an old age.

Distance.—in the orchard, this will vary according to the strength of the dilfor ent soils aud aspects. It also depends on the manner in which the trees are to be trained—whether dwarf, medium dwarf, or large trees. For the ordinary otchatd tree, trained with low heads, and for apples, if it is a siroug soil, twenty-two feot apart, and on light soils with a warm exposure, from sixteen to twenty feet. If for medium dwarf, twelve to fourteen feet If for dwarf, from five to uij;lr feet. Apricots and pears on pear stock, on strong soils tweuty feet apart; ou light soils, with a warm exposure, sixteen to eighteen focr. Pears ou (juiuce stock lor medium dwarf, twelve to sixteen feet; it for dwarf, five to eight feet For cherries and peach, on strong soils, eighteen feet; on light soils, sixteen feet. Plum on poach stock, on light soils, sixteen feet for medium and dwarf—the same as apple and pear. If the orchard be ova steep hill-side, the dis tances might be lessened a little from the above,

(To be Continued.)

A Man Tries Tight Lacing.

Richard A. Proctor, the well-known lec turer on astronomy, once tried the experi ment of wearing a corset, and thus describes the result: " Whou tbe subject of corset wearing was under discussion in the pages of the' English Mechanic,' I was struck with the apparent woightof evidence in favour of tight lacing. I was, in particular, struck by the evidence of some as to its use iv re ducing cirpulence. I was corpulent. I alio was disposed, as I am still, to take an interest in scientific experiment, I thought I would givo this matter a fair trial. I read all thcinstrnctions, carefully followed them, and varied the timnof applying pressure with that 'perfectly stiff busk about which corres spondeucs were so enthusiastic, I was foolish enough to try the thing for a matter of four weeks. Then I laughed at my self aa a hopeless idiot, and determined to f>ivo up the attompt to reduce by arti bcial means_ that superabundance of f^t on which only starvation ana much exercise, or tho air of America, has ever had any real reducing in fluence, But 1 was reckoning without my host. As the Chinese lady suffers, I am told, when her fect-bindin_s are taken off, and as the flat-headed baby howls when his head-boards are removed, so for awhilo was it with mc, I fouudmyself manifestly bet ter iv stays. I laughed at myself uo longor. I was too nngry with myself to laugh. I would as soon havo condemned myself to using crutches all the time as to weariue always a busk, But for ono mouth of folly I had to endure three months of discomfort. At the end of about that timo I was my own man again."—" Chicago Timss,"

THE LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE.

[By J. D. Davis ]

FIRSr PAP3R.-G«NHHAIi CHARACTER IT"" i fmes OF THE PERIOD.

Tub French Revolution excited extrava gant expectations iv the minds of many youthful English writers. They thought - not, it must be admitted, without plausible grounds for their belief—that they saw in it the dawning of a uew and better era far the whole of mankind. From Paris, as a centre, were to radiate ever-widening waves ot happiness and freedom. France had boldly set a glorious example in op posing and overwhelming her oppressors, which the rest of the woild was to imi tate. Recalling these convictions Cole ridge wrote in after years : - When Fr-inoe la wrath hor glaut limbs np and with that oath whloh araoto earth, air, and stamped hor strong foot and said sho would be Beit" witness for mo how I hoped and feared!

Southey and Wordsworth, both fresh from the University, shared the same en thusiasm. Tlie latter imagined he saw

"Fruaoa standing ou th) top of «ol<ion hoars, Aud hum-in nature seeming born again.'

The youthful poet was in France during the early months of tho revolution, and puid a visit to Paris a month after tbe Sep tember massacres. His sympathy survived oven those horrible occurrences, and the better judgment of his friends compelled him to return to England a few weeks later, llad he remained in the centre of distur banco, as he was promptod by his own feelings to do, it is quite possible that, making common eausu with some who perished, he mijilit huve perished too. Sub sequently Wordsworth and Southey de clared their sympathy with the Girontlins who acknowledged IMssot ns their leader; and when Brissot w/ts executed, each day's reports of what was taking place in Paris made them despairing and sick at heart Some time before, however, English public opinion had been couvotted to the creed of Rttrko; and Pitt was forced to declare war against tho Republic, a war which rfouthey was not alone in considering unjust and unholy. Hostilities continued for many years, and were ouly put an end to by the battle of Waterloo. Iv England a dreary time followed. Tho principles at the bottom of the Revolution lay dormant. They were uot dead, for, though politically the Revo lution was a failure, its aspirations were immorta'. There were always those who waited with hope to soo reformed what was wrong, uujusf, and tyrannical in the existing order of things; bat the menus did not lie roady to their hands, At tho beginuing of the century some of the more euergetic spirits planned the " Edin burgh Review," which had Sydney Smith as its litst editor. At that time it was "considered a piece of impertinence in England if a man of less than two or three thousnud a year had auy opinion', at all ou importaut subjects." " Tho Catholics wore not emancipated. The Corporation uud Tost Ac;s wore unrepealed. Prisoners tried for their liv. s could have no counsel. Lord Kldon and tho Court of Cttancory pressed heavily on mankind. A thousand evils were iv existence." The rich were like Lord Eldou in believing iv things as they were. Whatever was, was right. The poor might groau under tile oppression of heavy taxes, dear food and clothing, but enduro they must tor another generation. The hour of their relief had not yet struck. In their various departments the literary mon of the following years dealt stout blows in the cause of civil and religious freedom. The leaven of the Rovolutioa was working with some success.

The generation which preceded the accession of Queen Victoria was a fortunate ono, fortunate—that Is, in listouiug to, first, tho early offorts, then the rauturer aud more sobor strains of Words worth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Koats, Scott, Southey. " Christabol" was written in 1797 and 1800. The Ode on the " Inti mations" was completed in 180S, Byron's '• Childc Harold" (Part I.) appeared iv 1812. Tho " Lay of the Last Miustrel" was given to the world in ISOS, " Marmiou" in ISO 3, " Tho Lady of tho Lako " two years alter. "Endymiou" iv 181S showed the reading publio that there was ono more genuine poet amongst them. Shelley, * already famous, bawatlod his friend Keats in the mournful " Adonais," which was published in 1821. The next year Shelley's ashes were deposited iv the Protestant Cemetery atjßomc, where, too, for some weeks, tho remains of Keats had rested. "In death they were not dividod," Byron was fever-stricken at Missolonghi in 1524, Coleridge following him to the grave ten years after; Sir Walter Scott survived three years longer. Wordsworth and Southey, with Samuel Rogers, lived on into the period of wuich we are about more particularly to. speak, but. excited little direct influence on ihe writers of the younger generation. . ■ : ■ . , , * ■only once before iv the history of Bnglish literature had the phenomenon beeu wit nessed of so mniiy poets of high rank ap pearing at one timo, and that waa when the intellect of the country was aroused to a mighty activity by a series of events of the highest importance to the national life. 'J ho revival of letters, the invention of printing, tho discovery of America, the soverance of tho English •Church from Rome, these things of neces sity appealed not merely to politicians and the governing classes, but to all who thought. Tbe men of letters in Elizabeth's day naturally found abundant themes in the glowing prospect. England's importance in * the family of nations was now evident. The possibilities of the new world sootned, like its territory, practically boundless. What might not England be able to accomplish by means ot the treasures which were to bo found on the other side, of the stormy Atlantic. It was such thoughts as these which, now consciously, now uncon sciously, guided the pens ot tbe Eliza bethan writers. Public events aoted with precision on the thought of the age. Sd it happened with tho early years of tho present century. There were ether exciting causes, but the French Revolution was the principal one. Mot yet has it ceased to exert a powerful influence in the world. While time is, men can never forget that titanic effort to be politically and socially free. * r ~. ■~ *~, ~■' ~- .'•

The outburst in France ia 1813, tbe Chartist disturbances iv England which were almost contemporaneous, the Corn Luw agitatton which had preceded the Chartist movement, all produced an im pression ou our literature more or less deep ami lasting, they uryod ou young Kings ley to do something. He not merely from pulpit and platform encouraged with his enthusiastic sympathetic words those who struggled against wrongs, but produced "Alton Locke" and "Yeast, which remain as powerfully interesting evidences of what was fermenting in many minds at that period. The same troublesomo time had {attractions Jor • another aud greater writer than Charlca Kiugalcy, viz., "George Eliot," whoso "Felix Holt' depicts similar scenes, though with a purpose not quite so obviously didactic. Disraeli's " Sybil) is another book which Chartism originated,

and the author professed to have spent much labour in its composition,

Pursuing the same line of comparison it is interesting to note the similarity between the methods followed by men of letters and men of science in the later years of the nineteenth, century. The latter have en quired diligently of physical nature; the former havo inre-itigated as cuiiouily, if not as successfully, the unseen world. Com mon to both has been an attitude of observ ant scepticism, which refuses to take things for granted, which must search down into the foundation of things, which re ceives nothing without first scrutin ising the evidence. Nothing has escaped its curiosity ; no ancient belief, no matter how chetished and venerated, or how imposingly hedged about by authority derived from the credulity of the past. All things are subjected to the test of its alchemy. Scupticism and incredulity are umoug the mo*c evident characteristics of tne literature of the day. All departments ara pervaded by them, eveu those which might be expected to be tolerably free from sucu constituent elements. The l»st novel may be founded on the doubts and mental troubles of its subjective hero or heroine. The newest poem may pour forth, in. amazing volume the religious diilioultios of toe over-burdened singer. And even the history of a pre-imperial Roman states man may be made the vehicle for pro claiming the facts that belief is dead, and that religion is a hollow sham, 'ihe sceptical tendency which wo are noticing will be regarded favourably or otherwise accordiug to the mental habits and attitude of thu oDserver. Some will look upon it with satisfaction, and augur well for tbe future. Others take up the cudgels for orthodoxy, and express. the liveliest apprehension and alarm for tbe generations that are coming. What tho result will ultimately be of persistent enquiry and growing unbelief, ihe wisest cannot foresee, though it may not be rash to expect that scepticism has not yet goue the lengths which , posterity will behold. So industrious bus Investiga tion been during many years that the fact cannot be explained away as a mere passing whim or fancy of the age, from which there will be a reaction in favour of belief as strong and as vigorous. There are no Bigos of any such transition; on the contrary, the press is putting forth, daily, books aad journals which support in the most unmis takable manner the opposite opinion,

(To be Continued).

DISGRACEFUL SCENE IN A CHURCH.

PfiOiUßtY the most disgraceful scene ever enacted in an English church was witnessed at the Church of Holy Trinity, Bordesley, on 11th March. Birmingham has lately achieved a lively notoriety in consequence of the Ritualistic disputes associated with tbe ministration of the Rev. Mr Bnraght, A day or two ago the Bishop of the diocese nerved Mr Bnraght with a formal inhibition from officiating at Holy Trinity,, and the living was offered to and accepted by the Roy. U, Allen Watts, a Low Church clergy man, of -Sunderland. Immediately it was annouuced that Mr jKnraght had received notico to quit,'and that a new clergyman would introduce a different sort of ritual, the choir resigned in a body, and the org.tuist followed suit, and all sorts of menaces were held out to the new-comer. Ou 1 lth March tbe new vicar underwent the introdacwry process of reading himself ia. Kxtraordinara excitement was manifested iv the neighborhood, and. in order to prevent a breach of the peace, the chief of ihe polio*, with a large number of constables, attended the church. Immediately the vicar made Uis appearance in the vestry he was served with a protest by one of the Ritualist church wardens, objecting to bis presence on the ground that he was disposed to degrade the ser rices and upset the regular machinery of tha parish. The vicar replied in a concilia tory tone, and an assurance ol his intentions to work harmoniously with both sections of the congregation. On entering the church he was greeted with a storm of hisses and loud cries of '•' Traitor." The members of the old choir took up a position at the end of the church, and were the loudest in the uproari ous manifestations against the Incoming vicar. A scratch choir had been organistd for the occasion, but when they commenced to sing the Litany the old choir set up a counter demonstration with the object of drowning their voices. A scene of inde scribable confusion followed, and a number of timid people, fearing a disturbance, got up and left the church. This .produced some thing like a stampede,' but the admirable police arrangements prevented any serious consequences. The more decorous portion of the congregation rebuked the brawlers in angry tones, bat this had only the effect of increasing the tumult. The crisis was reached when tho vicar ascended the pnlpit. He was pale and agitated, and amidst the Babel of sound his voice was scarcely audible. He began by saying he hoped those members of bis congregation who had attended the opening service with the object of .creating a disturbance would become quiet and peaceful worshippers. He should be glad to meet them in friendly conference on the following day. Instead of conciliating the malcontent. tnis " message of peace " only caused the uproar to break, out afresh. Derisive laughter aud unseemly; shouts pro ceeded from various parts of the • building, and the supporters of the vicar were so en raged that a collision between the two par ties seemed imminent,, The Chief of Police pushed his way among the rival -sections, and entreated them to observe something like decency in a place of worship. In a few moments sufficient quietude was restored to enable the vicar to commence * his task, of reading himself in. He had scarcely com menced the Thirty-nine Articles, when the members of the old choir made a rush for the door, and their exit was followed by more of tha Ritualistic faction. By this time the vicar was fully convinced that he. bad nothing to do but continue his. work ot reading the Articles, uo matter whether he was heard or not. At frequent intervals bis voice was drowned by fits of coughing and other concerted interruptions. Some of the most systematic disturbers evoked bursts of laughter by shouting out a familar piece of "gag" from a local pantomime, which was followed by counter cries of ." fchut up" and ''Goto ■■" Towards the end of, the reading tbe vicar seemed so exhausted that his voice scarcely travelled beyond the pulpit, He did hot venture upou a sermon, but on finishing hia formal task of reading himself in he abruptly left the pnlpit, and the proceedings were brought to a termination. Bat the most disgraceful scene of all had yet to be enacted, JN ot satisfied with their unseemly interruptions inside the church, tbe mob rushed outside to join their.com panions iv the churchyard, with the ap parent object of mobbing the vicar. The police formed acompact phalanx to escort the clergymen a place of safety. The vicar placed himself in the middle of his body guard, amidst a tumult of groans and shouts. Some of his supporters cheered him, .and pressed forward to assist the police in clear ing the passage. But for the desperate exertions of the police there is little reason to doubt that tuc unfortunate gentleman woujd have been subjected to grievous ill treatment. The mob followed the vicar and his bodyguard, howling and'pushing them about till the gentleman reached his residence.

AND STUDIO.

[By EUTBBPB.]

Mbssks Kelly ahd nn w the publication d^^^kea^ History ot Rome." ft t. .1T .Dv **tf 72 vols., y at 4s each. M_ w'j W M.A., is translator, and the Rev. pS^ ! «!• P. Mahaffy editor. «ofe«... Bandmann and Company are t-W ' crowded houses at Rcckhampton.P *' During the season now over Pat*;. times, and earned for herself'th. % m M of £44,000. ""i1" IM-«d|| £3&.__-.^. A fortnight ago "Patience" h»^ c ~ its third week in AdtSJ^Jmhi J "drawing" well. &wmae- and was ,^ll j Dr, Oliver Wendell Holmes will •- v Life of Emerson for the ™Z, • Wtlte »i: of Letters " series. mericall *•»- ' It is announced that Mdme Sim„ ! ««S_____rtf-**. in June ou his way home aacillC,l j puShtta^^s^ Mort" (" After Deattf') Aptea|* Bonausa" for Mr Hiscocks g ' l« Madame lie Novikoff is in *„„, 7 seoing through the Press h» « "B.lani the late General sUelofi. " mWaoil °f' j Pitmau's " Phonetic Shorthand v \ «ou,cing Dictionary of the SfS" guage" nas reached its fiftht_ffij Lan". At Sydney, the Italian Opera bU£ Rignold's Dramatic GomMna^T n H. i Hioermcon, are playing te gooffie. *• .Max Vogricb, the pianist, i ate _de g^' farewell concerts in Melbourne and 8.2 (via in each city) before re___J_ I

Mdme. Pattl has been engaged to sini „•. the forthcoming Hande? UfcssSl modest remuneration of £500 fore«W formanco. -J? ■

A singing prodigy, a girl wit_ a voice of great promiae, ia talked of ia Staweil whence it will bo remembered Miss _S Reeecame. ?aT»*7 By the way, Alice now weara horrid fc ' spectacles, in consequence of-_,,«__£ ; affection, for which she has .eea ; .X medical treatment. > , ~7_ ' Mme. Sara Bernhardt is about to W.j out two volumes of artistic memoiri <_]„_' the title of " Ma Vie au Theatre." She is to receive £4,000 for the copyright *' - i - •

. The Mendelssohn Quintette Club a^ the' middle of last month Were '''starting Caaada in conjunction with Cirisuo. Nilseon and Miss. Hope Glenn (contralto,) j During the year ending this inti.tji.t_e Wellington Theatre Royal was r_ttaa D i__ for 120 nights, being the worst period sines' its opening. The shareholders receive. I dividend of 10 per cent.

A gentleman in Scotland has toned I circular, claiming amongst other strata j things to bring about the production oTt powerful voice where none whatever a. supposed to have existed.

A new and complete edition of Eobat I Buchanan's poetical works is in pteptti," 1 tion in London. His new novel, entitld I " Annan Water," was to b. broagh. oil I daring the present month. ■'; ?s||f t , The Polks gave their farewell perform anet I at the Royal, Brisbane, on May 3, They were succeeded by Profe_«r, r > Keller and the Illusionists, who were tocefoliowed by the Emilie Melville Ojpera Coatpany, Derbyshire's Juveniles, after doing i-p\ eB . did bisiness at Oamam, are bow1 in Dunedin. They intend returning to til. "white city" shortly with ".he:Grs_ Duchess," which they have in rehearti), A theatre Is in course of construction in Berlin, which is to consist entirely ot iron, as a preventative against fire. I understand it is to cost only £6.000, and will b.eou fined to the performance of French operolfa, The Opera Company which has beeu p_j. Ing " Boccaccio" and " JViaaola" at thf Syd ney OperaHoase intend to visit NewZeM. soon, if Mr Dunning can make satirfictaj arrangements with the Union Stennahj. I Company and the proprietors of theatres, . An English clergyman has lately puds t. selection of " Wisdom, Poetry, and Pstttf ■ from,the works of .Ouida. After, Jab I' should not feel at all surprised lo learntint Sydney Taiwhanga had undertaKeu ; tl! formation of a .poetic .bouquet Irom to Havergal's remains.. Wagner left £10,000 in hard,oath Wit. his valuable freeholds., At the time of hh death he was engaged npon anbpetj» titled "Die Biisner '? (The Penitent), batU is in too inoomplete a state to be t.sekel< by other hands. The King of Bavanitm undertaken the education of the grit master's son Siegfried.* • h -.jij <:■> inpH General Forlong has ready for pabli* tion tbe first1 instalment of his tot. expected work on the evolutfon of reltgiwu thought from the'rudest symbolisms Ml \ present spiritual development.- Thepiewt instalment is to consist of two maawt quarto volumes, COO p»Res each, lit maps, plates, and numerous engtavingt,, William Creuwick, the veteran Engia tragedian whO> visited the colonies ftrt* three years ago, has been engaged to spfar in a series of Shakespearian charsoteuit the Memorial Celebration to be held .nortlf at Stratford-oa-Avon. Theplrt* »» ; Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, Sbyleck* «ml King Lear. Lear is his grandest imp*.; sonation.' - ,; "' ,l r . Mr Anstey's popular story " Vice Verai has beeu dramatised. Tie' cnsracter or the pompous schoolmaster, Dr, Grimstote is said to be drawn from life, the moiHf being the head-master of Kings College, and the author had* the effrontery ton* sent a copy of his book -to the c«W . library. He is preparing a new story to; the "Cornhilli" . Mr DOyly Carte's scheme of farnfshirig; { lady visitors to the dress circle of his thea tre with bouquets has been thrown into tilt shade by a New York manager who :• cently presented the ladies with lace h«fr . kerrlefs as they passed to the.* a* ~ Perhaps it was a delicate suggestion hit. some emotion on the part of the autac* would be acceptable, ' The Kennedy Family have been received*:; with open arms by the Melbourne pnbliv and the local Caledonian Society tesUM its appreciatiou.by presenting i^e. oM naj.* with an address of welcome, «.»"»,£' have lost none of his ability and 6/ W and the Misses Helen, Margery, and tog : "are general favourites, while **^*L. nedy appear, to have benefited largely W his course of study in Italy.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, MAY 26, 1883.

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