The Sun.
London, England, 1863-09-16 00:00:00

HER MAJESTY.

The Queen's journey to the north was performed
with the greatest punctuality. The royal train
arrived at Carlisle yesterday morning at a few
minutes after four, reached Perth (where the Queen
awl royal family partook of breakfast) shortly be -
fore nine, and Aboyne before two. This being the
last station available for Balmoral, her Maj2sty and
the princes and princesses pursued the remainder
of the journey by ro id.

The Prince and Princess Louis of Hesse.
Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Prince 53
Louis of Hesse and the Princess Victoria arrived at
Buckingham Palace at seven o'clock yesterday
morning from Dover. Colonel the Hon. A. Liddell,
the Baroness Schenck, Captain Westerweller, and
Dr. Becker were in attendance.
The Prince and Princess Louis of Hesse and the
Princess Victoria left the Palace at eight o'clocl
yesterday evening, attended by the same suite, fo r
the Easton-square terminus of the London and
North Western Railway, to proceed to Scotland to
join her Majesty at Balmoral.

The Duke and Duchess of Grafton are prolongiag
their sojourn at Baden. The duchess's health is improved'
The Earl and Countess Delawarr have made'
arrangements to leave Kissengen shortly, and are expected'
to arrive at Buckhurst-park, Sussex, in the course of nes t
month.

The Earl and Countess of Shaftesbury and Lad:.'l
Victory Ashly, on their return from the Continent, wil I
take up their residence for a short time at Widmer Castle
placed at their disposal by Viscount Palmerston.
The Dowager Marchioness of Queensberry ball
arrived at the Alexandra Hotel (late Wallace's), Hyde •
pa±corner, from Coolhurst, Horsham,

The Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mrs. Glad.
stone, and family ; the Lord Bishop of London, Mrs. Ta it,
and family; the Very Rev. the Dean of Westminster, the
Hon. Mrs. Trench, and family ; Lord and Lady Enfi el
and family, are at present staying in the immediate neigh'
bourhood of Llan-fair-fechan, on the sea coast, betty esa
Bangor and Penmanmaur.

Lord and Lady Augustus Loftus and family are
among the English aristocracy passing the autumn tit
Baden.

The marriage of Prince Pierre Aldobrandini, soil
of Prince and Princess of Arenberg, and nephew of
Prince Borghese, with the Countess Marie Hunyade, ie
announced to take place shortly. The Aldobrandini's an"
castor, and founder of the family, was father to Pope Cle-
ment VIII. The Borgheses--an illustrious family Gl'
Sienna—also count a Pope—Paul V.—amongst their an-
cestors. One branch of the Borghese family merged int.,o
that of the Aldobrandini many years ago ; another branoll
had for their chief Camille, Prince of Salmone, who married
a sister of the Great Napoleon, and died in 1832. Tho
Aldobrandini Borghese are, connected with some of tilt)
oldest French families. The present Prince Borghese mar "
ried Mdlle. de la Rochefoucauld. of Estissac. His mother/
who is still living, was also a Rochefoueauld. The Due de
Salviati, a brother of Prince Borghese, married Mdlle. de
Fitz-James. The bride, the Countess Hunyade, is daughter
to one of the Chamberlains of the Emperor of Austria
and of a Princess of Liechtenstein. The founder of this
tamily was Jean Hunyade, father of Matthias Corvin, and
a descendant, it is said, of the Paleologues.— Court
Journal.

INTERNATIONAL BREAKFASTS AT OSTEND.--"A
clever writer in the clever Reader describes them
thus :—At the Pavillon Royal and the Pavillon des Dunes
breakfasts are preparing and serving from nine o'clock till
twelve. That pale-faced Hollander, with his wife and child!

are feasting on a dish of soused herrings, while the party of
Parisians at the opposite table are busily engaged in dis-
cussing biftek aux pommes, saumon ci la Tartare, and an
omelette aux fines herbes. The hard-featured, stout-looking'
man from Liege, sitting al fresco to the left, with the bottle
of Belgian beer before him, has already consumed three
dozen of Ostend oysters, and after these has ordered pieds
de pore d la Sainte Menehould. The two silent Englishmen,
with the tea-pot before them, seem satisfied with their fried
bacon and eggs a la coque, while the heavy-looking pair of
Germans to the right are indulging themselves in a dish of
saucisses a la choucroute, and a bottle of Liebetraumilch.
The Russian in the corner, who has eaten a large dish of
sardines fraiches, is now assiduously applying himself to a
filet de bout au sin de 31aderc. The least crapulous and
the cleanest feeding among the lot is that English family,
consisting of three ladies and two gentlemen. Observe how
clear and clean they look, and how perfect their attire.
Their menu consists of tea and coffee, of dried toast, of some
slices of cold ham, and a plate of eggs. They do not voci-
ferate or gestulate. They do not speak with full mouths,
eat with their knives, or pick their teeth with their forks.
They do not spit on the floor, or into their pocket handker-
chiefs, nor do they tuck their napkins under their chin. I
might go on ad infinitum describing breakfasts, each dif-
fering in kind and quality; but cui bono ? Each country
has its customs and its dishes. The Italian breakfasts on a
plate of fresh figs or rice milk, while the Spaniard has hie
rusk and chocolate saturated with cinnamon and thick as a
custard.

CHARLES MATHEWS AND HELEN EAUCIT IN
PARIS—as the equivalent to Charles Pechter and
Stella Collas in London.—English favourities in art seem to
have taken hold of French fancy, No sooner has our mag-
nificent Tietjens left the field than our witty and volatile
Charles Mathews appears, and conquers that most difficult
prize of all, the entire approbation of the Paris public-
Never was applause so liberally bestowed before—never
was comprehension of foreign excellence so spontaneously
experienced. Charles Mathews has obtained real and
genuine success which was never for a moment doubtful
and his appearance will no doubt cause attention to be drawn
to the English stage, which, save one or two artists of
world-wide renown, is scarcely acknowledged as existent by
the French, One of the exceptions is, undoubtedly, your
poetical and gifted Helen Faucit, who appeared in Pave
some years ago, and who is still remembered by the pave
public, not only with admiration, but with that sort of artis-
tic affection which is often experienced on the Continent. it
is a pleasant greeting to English ears whenever Shakspeal
is performed, even now, whether "Macbeth" or " Hamlet'
—whether Taillade or Rouviere be the hero of the hour--te
hear the name et Helene Faucit mentioned with a slight
rustling whisper of regret as her performance of Shake'
peare's characters is called to mind. So high was the talent
ot that lady held in the estimation of poets and dramatists
that Alexandre Dumas, being urged to write a piece for the
Francais wherein she could take a part, composed during
her stay " La Fille du Regent," expressly to introduce
Miss Helen Faucit as an English lady who had come over
in th?, suite of the English Ambassadress, and who was
meant to be the most interesting character in the pie"'
Owing to previous engagements in London, Miss Faucit
was at that time compelled to relinquish the idea of the per-
formance, but it still haunts the restless brain of our friend
Alexandre; and it was only a few months ago, when ap-
prised of the fair artist's intended visit to Paris, he ex-
claimed, "4lt, tant mieux I perhaps we may still have our
scene between Bathilde and Mary." The latter character
—the one written expressly for Miss Faucit—has been left
out in the piece as now played.
THE BEAUTY TURNED HAG.—It has recently
been related that the porter of M. Ingres' h""
was pestered by an old woman, who for days continued ,
calling, and asking to see the celebrated artist of L a
Stratonice." "Next time she comes, show her in," said
M. Ingres. The following morning she was admitted to
the painter's studio, and Ingres saw before him a bundle Of
rags. "You don't know me, sir," said the old woman in
a broken voice. "No, madame," replied M. Ingres, after
closely examining his visitor. "I believe you," she said:
" Oh, I am much changed since you painted my portrait.'
"I painted your portrait ! what, I?" cried the artist.
" Yes; and at that time I was young, I was beautiful, and
I was worshipped ! Ab, you see Ido not speak of yester-
day," and the old woman sighed. " And to what period
must I go back to recall who you are ?" "To the year
1806." "In 1806 !" repeated Ingres. " Yes; I am the
same person that was then called 'La belle &lie I have
eaten off golden plates, engraved with my own initials ; and
now—l have not a bone to pick from off my earthenware
dibh. Years came, and misery anctpoverty with them. Of
all my rieh possessions but one remains, my portrait, that
the Marquis de --- gave you the order to paint," The
poor woman named an Italian diplomats who filled a posh
of importance at the Court of the Great Napoleon, " Bur,
my port:ait, sir," said the wretched old woman: "I will
give it you for what you like, only save me from starving,
for I am at that point. God, who hears me and knave
what I suffer, knows that I am telling ycu the truth.',
Touched with pity, N.Y. Mgt es told her to send him the
portrait. It was exposed in his salon, and soon bought by
an amateur artist, M. Cet, for 15,000 f., which money wag
paid over to St. Perine, for the old Zelie to pass quietly and
peacefully away, having comfort and care to the last. The
picture is now in M. Cet's gallery, and is called "La Dade
de 1806,"

THE ENGLISHMAN'S GOOD HUMOURED TOLERA-
TION OF SATIRE.—Our House of Peers did not
"lynch" Mr. Thackeray because the demon of his story wee
Lee d Sleyne—and our cmmercial gentlemen of London, not
Icng since, at one of their anniversary dinners, welcomed.the
Author of "Martin Chuzzlewit" to the chair, in: t as cor-
dially as if he had not laid against them the tearl ul accusa.
tion of leading their much-enduring landladies a terrible
life, owing to their prepoatorotie expectations in, the matter
of gravy.