Wife of his Bosom.-"UPON MY WORD, MR. PEEWITT! IS THIS THE WAY YOU FILL UP YOUR CENSUS PAPER? SO YOU CALL YOURSELF THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY'-DO YOU-AND ME A 'FEMALE?" First Frenchman.-"MON DIEU, ALPHONSE! LOOK THERE! WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT MACHINE Second Frenchman.-"I SEE! IT'S A VERY DROLL AFFAIR, BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS." BRIDAL, MOURNING, AND VISITING COSTUMES. Summer in all its fervor is now prevailing, The BRIDAL DRESS, seen on the left, is extremely Tand the dictations of fierce Leo may not be elegant. The hair is in short bandenus exted very disregarded with impunity. Light textures, only, are seasonable, and the genius of modists has wrought out beautiful and appropriate patterns for dresses, bonnets, mantelets, &c. The textures most in vogue are light silks, taffetas, barèges, mousseline de soie, valencias, plain and printed cambric muslins, jaconets, &c. Our first Illustration exhibits appropriate costume for three phases in the character of fashion; a bride's dress, a morning costume, and a visiting dress. large. The vail of illusion silk net, is embroidered above the hem with twelve rows of narrow silk braid put very near together. It is laid flat on the head and incloses the back hair. The edge comes on the forehead. The crown is composed of double laurel flowers, bunches of lilies of the valley, and reed leaves. It goes round the head behind, and does not meet in front. The foliage reaches forward and falls all round the head. The under-dress is of white silk, the upper of India muslin, open in front, in the body and skirt, | more seasonable. Rice straw bonnets are very much so as to show one width of the silk. The body is in vogue this season. The general forms of bonnets almost high. A deep valenciennes, scolloped, forms have not much changed since our last report. a lapel down the body and the edges of the skirt. The short pagoda sleeves are trimmed with rows of valenciennes. The body and skirt have several rows of narrow valenciennes, three together at intervals, and so arranged as to form undulations. These trimmings are fixed to one insertion: they are not loose, but so fastened as to follow all the motions of the folds of the skirt. The cross-bands are ornamented on the body with a silk bow in the middle; on the skirt, with two others placed at the extremities. A bow on each arm holds up the pagodas. The collar is plaited; an embroidered insertion, and three rows of valenciennes, undulated like the trimming of the dress. The under-sleeves, of embroidered muslin at the bottom, are straight, and rather loose at the wrist. They have an insertion and three rows of valenciennes. The sitting figure shows a MORNING COSTUME composed of taffeta and other light materials. An elegant and rather gay style is taffeta of a light gray ground, striped broad, with intervening wreaths of roses. The body three-quarter height at the back. It opens in a large lapel down each side of the tablier, which is trimmed with fringe, of hues corresponding with the dress. The fringe is continued from the bottom of the lapel down each side of the tablier. Sleeves are funnel-shaped, rather more than a half-length, and finished with fringe. Cambric chemisette, made quite up to the throat, and cambric under-sleeves. Lemon colored silk or drawn bonnet, the brim very open at the sides. The interior is trimmed in cap style with tulle; lemon colored brides or strings. The figure on the right shows a VISITING DRESS. The body is à la Louis XV.; demi-long sleeves of the small pagoda form. A pardessus like a little pelisse; a close fitting body, moderately open on the bosom; bordered with a very rich fancy trimming. Wide sleeves descending to the hand, and terminated with fancy trimming and a rich fringe. The skirt is short behind, but nearly a half length in front, open before, and trimmed round the bottom with three rows of fringe laid on as flounces. Rice straw bonnet; a very small open brim, the interior trimmed with tufts of red and yellow roses and their foliage, and white brides. The exterior of the bonnet is decorated with a wreath of the same flowers, intermixed with thin foliage, and light sprigs of small white flowers and buds. FIG. 2.-BONNETS. BONNETS continue to be made small and very open in front. Light silks are fashionable. These are covered by rows of white festooned ribbon, as seen in the second Illustration of Fig. 2. Others have white lace on the front, over the centre, and upon the crown and curtain, as seen in the other Illustration. Florence straw, gauze, tulle, crape, and crapelisse, are more fashionable and much There appears to be a decided and growing tendency on the part of our country women, to wear the trowsers. If properly done, we certainly can not object. For some time past indications of an invasion, by the ladies, of men's peculiar domain in dress, incited by the strong-minded Miss Webers of the day, have been tangible, but the frowns of Fashion have hitherto kept the revolutionists quiet, and ladies' dresses have every month been increas ing in longitude, until train-bearers are becoming necessary. It is conceded by all that the dresses of prevailing immoderate length, sweeping the ground at every step, are among the silliest foibles of Fashion; expensive, inconvenient, and untidy. Recently, in several places, practical reformers, as bold as Joan d'Arc, have discarded the trailing skirts, and adopted the far more convenient, equally chaste, and more elegant dresses of Oriental women. Some ridicule them; others sneer contemptuously or laugh incredulously, and others commend them for their taste and courage. We are disposed to be placed in the latter category; and to show our good. will, we present, above, a sketch of ORIENTAL COSTUME, as a model for our fair reformers. What can be more elegant and graceful, particularly for young ladies? The style is based upon good taste, and, if the ladies are in earnest, it must prevail A crusty cynic at our elbow who never believed in progress in any thing, thinks so too; and has just whispered in our ear of woman, that If she will, she will, you may depend on't, And if she won't, she won't-so there's an end on " NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. THER No. XV. AUGUST, 1851.-VOL. III. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 1. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH. HE island of Corsica, sublimely picturesque with its wild ravines and rugged mountains, emerges from the bosom of the Mediterranean Sea, about one hundred miles from the coast of France. It was formerly a province of Italy, and was Italian in its language, sympathies, and customs. In the year 1767 it was invaded by a French army, and after several most sanguinary conflicts, the inhabitants were compelled to yield to superior power, and Corsica was annexed to the empire of the Bourbons. At the time of this invasion there was a young lawyer, of Italian extraction, residing upon the island, whose name was Charles Bonaparte. He was endowed with commanding beauty of person, great vigor of mind, and his remote lineage was illustrious, but the opulence of the noble house had passed away, and the descendant of a family, whose line could be traced far back into the twilight of the dark ages, was under the fortunate necessity of being dependent for his support upon the energies of his own mind. He had married Letitia Raniolini, one of the most beautiful and accomplished of the young ladies of Corsica. Of thirteen children born to them eight survived to attain maturity. As a successful lawyer the father of this large family was able to provide them with an ample competence. His illustrious descent gave him an elevated position in society, and the energies of his mind, ever in vigorous action, invested him with powerful influence. The family occupied a town house, an ample stone mansion, in Ajaccio, the principal city of the island. They also enjoyed a very delightful country retreat near the sea-shore, a few miles from Ajaccio. This rural home was the favorite resort of the children during the heats of summer. When the French invaded Corsica, Charles Bonaparte, then quite a young man, having been married but a few years, abandoned the peaceful profession of the law, and grasping his sword, united with his countrymen, under the banner of General Paoli, to resist the invaders. His wife, Letitia, had then but one child, Joseph. She was expecting soon to give birth to another. Civil war was desolating the little island. Paoli and his band of patriots, defeated again and again, were retreating before their victorious foes into the fastnesses of the mountains. Letitia followed the fortunes of her husband, and, VOL. III.-No. 15.-T notwithstanding the embarrassment of her condition, accompanied him on horseback in these perilous and fatiguing expeditions. The conflict, however, was short, and, by the energies of the sword, Corsica became a province of France, and the Italians who inhabited the island became the unwilling subjects of the Bourbon throne. On the 15th of August, 1769, in anticipation of her confinement, Letitia had taken refuge in her town house at Ajaccio. On the morning of that day she attended church, but, during the service. admonished by approaching pains, she was obliged suddenly to return home, and throwing herself upon a couch, covered with an ancient piece of tapesty, upon which was embroidered the battles and the heroes of the Illiad, she gave birth to her second son, Napoleon Bonaparte. Had the young Napoleon seen the light two months earlier he would have been by birth an Italian. not a Frenchman, for but eight weeks had then elapsed since the island had been transferred to the dominion of France. The father of Napoleon died not many years after the birth of that child whose subsequent renown has filled the world. He is said to have appreciated the remarkable powers of his son, and, in the delirium which preceded his death, he was calling upon Napoleon to help him. Madame Bonaparte, by this event, was left a widow with eight children, Joseph, Napoleon, Lucien, Jerome, Eliza, Pauline, and Caroline. Her means were limited, but her mental endowments were commensurate with the weighty responsibilities which devolved upon her. Her children all appreciated the superiority of her character, and yielded, with perfect and unquestioning submission, to her authority. Napoleon in particular ever regarded his mother with the most profound respect and affection. He repeatedly declared that the family were entirely indebted to her for that physical, intellectual, and moral training, which prepared them to ascend the lofty summits of power to which they finally attained. He was so deeply impressed with the sense of these obligations that he often said, "My opinion is that the future good or bad conduct of a child, depends entirely upon its mother." One of his first acts, on attaining power, was to surround his mother with every luxury which wealth could furnish. And when placed at the head of the government of France, he immediately and energetically established schools for female education, remarking that France needed nothing so much to promote its regeneration as good mothers. Madame Bonaparte after the death of her hus- | sports. They chased the butterfly; they played band, resided with her children in their country in the little pools of water with their naked house. It was a retired residence, approached feet; in childish gambols they rode upon the by an avenue overarched by lofty trees and bor- back of the faithful dog, as happy as if their dered by flowering shrubs. A smooth, sunny brows were never to ache beneath the burden lawn, which extended in front of the house, of a crown. How mysterious the designs of lured these children, so unconscious of the high that inscrutable Providence, which, in the island destinies which awaited them, to their infantile of Corsica, under the sunny skies of the Medi terranean, was thus rearing a Napoleon, and far away, beneath the burning sun of the tropics, under the shade of the cocoa groves and orangetrees of the West Indies, was moulding the person and ennobling the affections of the beautiful and lovely Josephine. It was by a guidance, which neither of these children sought, that they were conducted from their widely separated and obscure homes to the metropolis of France. There, by their united energies, which had been fostered in solitary studies and deepest musings they won for themselves the proudest throne upon which the sun has ever risen; a throne which in power and splendor eclipsed all that had been told of Roman, or Persian, or Egyptian greatness. The dilapidated villa in Corsica, where Napoleon passed his infantile years, still exists, and the thoughtful tourist loses himself in pensive reverie as he wanders over the lawn where those children have played-as he passes through the vegetable garden in the rear of the house, which enticed them to toil with their tiny hoes and spades, and as he struggles through the wilderness of shrubbery, now running to wild waste, in the midst of which once could have been heard the merry shouts of these infantile kings and queens. Their voices are now hushed in death. But the records of earth can not show a more eventful drama than that enacted by these young Bonapartes between the cradle and the grave. There is, in a sequestered and romantic spot upon the ground, an isolated granite rock, of wild and rugged form, in the fissures of which there is something resembling a cave, which still retains the name of "Napoleon's Grotto." This solitary rock was the favorite resort of the pensive and meditative child, even in his earliest years. When his brothers and sisters were in most happy companionship in the garden, or on the lawn, and the air resounded with their mirthful voices, Napoleon would steal away alone to his loved retreat. There, in the long and sunny afternoons, with a book in his hand, he would repose, in a recumbent posture, for hours, gazing upon the broad expanse of the Mediterranean, spread out before him, and upon the blue sky, which overarched his head. Who can imagine the visions which in those hours arose before the expanding energies of that wonderful mind? Napoleon could not be called an amiable child. He was silent and retiring in his disposition, melancholy and irritable in his temperament, and impatient of restraint. He was not fond of companionship nor of play. He had no natural joyousness or buoyancy of spirit, no frankness of disposition. His brothers and sisters were not fond of him, though they admitted his superiority. "Joseph," said an uncle at that time, |