rs and Van Ostade, the
beautiful landscapes of Ruysdael. He returned with head bent
and eyes fatigued, and his mind filled with lasting
recollections.

"He was not twenty when he set out for Paris with his master.
The opera, in its best days, enlisted the aid of all painters
of gracefulness. At the opera, Watteau threw the lightning
flashes of his pencil right and left: mountains, lakes,
cascades, forests, nothing dismayed him, not even the Camargos,
whom he had for models. He ended by taming himself down to this
cage of gayly-singing and fluttering birds. A dancing-girl, who
had not much to do, deigned to grant the little Flemish dauber,
the favor of sitting for her portrait. Fleming as he was,
Watteau made the progress of the portrait last longer than the
scornfulness of Mademoiselle la Montagne. This was not all: the
portrait was considered so graceful in the dancing-world, that
sitters came to him every day, on the same terms.

"He left the opera with his master, as soon as the new
decorations were finished. Besides Gillot, the great designer
of fauns and naiads had returned there more flourishing than
ever. The master returned to Valenciennes, Watteau remained at
Paris, desiring to depend upon his fortune, good or bad. He
passed from the opera into the studio of a painter of
devotional subjects, who manufactured St. Nicholases for Paris
and the provinces, to suit to the price. So Watteau
manufactured St. Nicholases, 'My pencil,' he said, 'did
penance.' The opera always attracted him; there he could give
free scope to all the extravagance of his fancy, to all the
charming caprices of his pencil; but at the opera, his master
and himself had given way to Gillot; and the latter was not
disposed to give way to any body."

An allegro morceau from the life of Gretry:

A MONK OF A BAD PATTERN.

"Other adventures also occurred, to convince Remacle that his
fellow-travellers were worthy of him. Ever in dread of the
before-mentioned officers, the old smuggler forced them to make
a _detour_ of some leagues, to see, as he said with a
disinterested air, a superb monastery, where alms were bestowed
once a week on all the poor of the country. On entering the
great hall, in the midst of a noisy crowd, Gretry saw a fat
monk, mounted