Shawls of white China crape, embroidered in colours, begin to be much in favour for the promenade, but they have not displaced mantelets. We observe, however, that those of the latter, composed of muslin, lace, and gauze, are giving place very fast to those of rich silk, either trimmed with lace or with ruches of silk We observed one, the trimming of which struck us as very novel, it consisted of a triple row of scollops of different sizes.

India muslin and organdy are still the materials in request for evening neglige, for which the robe and the demi-redingote form seem in equal favour; the first is made with low corsages, the back tight, and the front pointed at bottom, but draped at the top, so as slightly to form a V. The sleeve, if long, is moderately full from the elbow to the wrist; if short, it is tight, but its plain appearance is relieved by bouillons, or full trimmings, of either lace or muslin. The skirts are generally trimmed with flounces; in some instances, however, bouillons, with ribbon run through them, are adopted, but flounces are more generally employed. The demi-redingotes are made with half high corsages, tight backs, and fronts with a little, but very little, fulness: the waist is of moderate length. The trimming consists of bands of muslin, embroidered in narrow patterns, or in round festoons. The ceinture, worn with a dress of either kind, must be of very broad rich ribbon, tied on one side in two moderate sized bows with long floating ends.

Caps continue their vogue in evening dress; they are small, of a round shape, and but for the long lace lappets now always employed to adorn them, would not have a dressy look. A light sprig of flowers crowns the front, which issues from a knot of ribbon placed rather low on one side.

Mittons, either of lace or silk net, are generally adopted in evening negligé; those of Swedish leather, trimmed with narrow black lace at the top, and embroidered in the hand, are coming a good deal into favour. Bracelets, which for some time past have been little worn, are again very fashionable, but they must be of a very smail kind, as a narrow go'd chain, or a plait of hair fastened by a single precious stone. Fashionable colours have not varied since last month.

THE GRACE MAUSOLEUM.

The Grace Mausoleum occupies the site of Grace's Chapel, or south wing of the old church of Arles, on the summit of Arles Hill, in the barony of Slievemarigue, and Queen's County, Ireland. Elegance of design is here happily combined with a characteristic style of architecture. The general effect, for which this sepulchral edifice has been admired, is produced by its opposite situation, and its height; by the rich carving of the two Gothic pinnacles which surmount it, the projecting buttresses, and the handsome cut stone mouldings of the narrow Gothic doors, windows, and labels, which adorn its walls. No wood work belongs to any part of this little structure, excepting its oak doors; and the peculiar durability of its roof consists in being covered with a strong flag stone, three inches thick, brought from the Boley quarries, on the estate of Sir William Grace, Baronet. The lower rows of these ponderous flags rest on a massive eave-course, as the upper ones do on the edges of each other; and the whole being divided by mock joints, or lines, into courses of ten inches by six, resembles a number of oblong stones.

A vault, formed by a semi-circular arch for the repository of the dead, and an upper chamber, or chapel, formed by a high-pointed Gothic arch for the reception of funereal monuments, comprise its internal arrangements. The decorations of the chapel or upper chamber, in its vaulted and groined ceiling, are strictly of the Gothic order. Moulded ribs spring from the corbel capitals of the piers, which divide the monuments on the walls. These run diagonally on the ceiling, and, intersecting in the centre, are there connected with beautiful boss flowers, entwined through the several members of each rib. The windows of this funereal chapel are of a quatrefoil figure, and admit a "dim religious light," eminently suitable to the architectural character of the place, and in unison with the solemn purposes to which it is consecrated.

The cantred of Grace's country is rich in traditionary lore, as well as extremely fertile in the more general and visible subjects of antiquarian research. The following short poem, translated from the Irish language, which relates to this interesting district, is calculated to command the admiration, as well as gratify the curiosity of our readers. During the protectorate of Cromwell, the Grace family suffered a temporary deprivation of their estates, a circumstance to which the poem alludes, and thus the date of the composition is determined. Though the following translation is not unfaithful, it is far from doing justice to the strength and pathos, the artless diction, and affecting turn of sentiment in some parts of the original.

GRACE'S COUNTRY.

Country of Grace! by Heaven divinely plann'd!
Well till'd and peopled is thy fertile land,
From narrow Nore's bright stream extended wide,
By smooth Momonia's gay and flowery side;
Thence (widening far where Munster river flows,)
To fan'd Kilkenny, powerful o'er its foes.

Thy fields are spacious, and thy meadows green,
And snow-white lambkins gambol o'er the scene;
Thy groves, delightful, decorate each glade,
And, widely-spreading, form a grateful shade;
While wavy autumn gilds the fruitful soil,
To recompense the hind's industrious toil.

Through golden vales thy crystal rivulets flow,
There silvery fishes leap and sport below;

With hounds and horn, chac'd o'er the mountain's height,
Thy native roebuck flies from morn 'till night;
And fox and hare, the nimblest of their race,
Are hunted down, the wearied in the chace.

Country of Grace! by Heaven divinely plann'd!
A cloudless sun illumes thy smiling land:
Each good is thine that nature can bestow.
And every other bliss enjoy'd below,

But ah! what woes these iron times impart !-
Woes that must sadden every feeling heart.

Ill-fated land! thy joyous days are o'er ;
Thy good, thy generous chieftains are no more:
Whose mighty arm pour'd vengeance on the foe;
Who laid th'invader in the battle low;
Whose hardy valour ne'er was known to yield,
But triumph'd ever in the ensanguin'd field.

Whose castle-towers in feudal splendour rise;
Whose sacred abbeys glisten to the skies;
Who rear'd the fort, and rear'd the palace halls,
Where festive merriment oft rung the walls,
Where mantling wines in golden cups went round,
And Erin's harp pour'd forth its silver sound.

Where ceas'd the dance, the tuneful harper done,
A minstrel sung the praise by Raymond won;
Illustrious Raymond! author of that race,
Which, settling here, first took the name of Grace;
When to Ierne's shores the warrior came,
And crown'd his followers with immortal fame.

AN EPIGRAM DEFINED.

An epigram, the greatest wits,
To make it well, has pos'd:
'Tis like a shoe that nicely fits
The better it is clos'd.

J. R. P.

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT:

A HISTORICAL SKETCH. BY CHARLES MAY.

"Gallant knight advance, and from our daughter's hand receive thy meed of valour."

Such were the words of the fourth Henry of France to the youth who had been pronounced victorious in the tournament. The truly great and princely soul of that mighty monarch was a stranger to mean and envious feelings. Though the knight he addressed, a young unknown Englishman, had vanquished in the tilt that now was drawing to a close the flower of his own chivalry, Henry hailed him conqueror, if not with feelings of the highest satisfaction, at least with the willingness of an impartial judge, who had witnessed and admired the astonishing feats of valour exhibited by the stranger youth.

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The English knight advanced towards the beautiful Henrietta with a throbbing heart he gazed on the princess, and, placing on the ground before her his helmet and victorious falehion, knelt to receive the guerdon he had won. With a trembling hand and a glowing cheek the princess presented to her champion (for though a stranger he had upheld her peerless charms), a superbly ornamented sword, and, in tones that thrilled through the soul of the English knight, addressed him "Thou hast won this weapon well, sir knight: I doubt not thou wilt wear it well. Let not dishonour stain it; ever be it ready to protect the innocent, to punish the oppressor; yet be it never drawn without a worthy cause."

The knight pressed the weapon to his lips and to his heart, and, with a voice trembling with agitation, replied, "I will, as the soldier of my God, and the servant of my mistress, wear this weapon-I will guard it as a sacred and a glorious gage-1 will wear it, lady, for honour's sake and thine!"

The two last words were uttered in a scarcely audible tone; yet neither they, nor the expressive glauce that accompanied them, escaped the eye of the princess.

Though the most youthful competitor who had entered the lists, he had displayed no common skill, and, though a stranger and a sojourner for a few days only at the court, his

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