f the story attached
to the _Brothers' Steps_, a spot thus called, which formerly existed in
one of the fields behind Montague House. The local tradition says, that
two brothers fought there on account of a lady, who sat by and witnessed
the combat, and that the conflict ended in the death of both; but the
names of the parties have never been mentioned. The steps existed behind
the spot where Mortimer Market now stands, and not as Miss Porter says, in
her novel of the _Field of Forty Steps_, at the end of Upper Montague
Street. In her story, Miss Porter departs entirely from the local
tradition.

H.S. SIDNEY.

* * * * *

ITALIAN IMPROVISATRI.

_(To the Editor of the Mirror.)_

Allow me permission, if consistent with the regulations of your
interesting miscellany, to submit to you a literary problem. We are
informed that there exists, at the present day, in Italy, a set of persons
called "improvisatri," who pretend to recite original poetry of a superior
order, composed on the spur of the moment. An extraordinary account
appeared a short time back in a well known Scotch magazine, of a female
improvisatrice, which may have met your notice. Now I entertain
considerable doubt of the truth of these pretensions; not that I question
the veracity of those who have visited Italy and make the assertion: they
believe what they relate, but are, I conceive, grossly deceived. There is
something, no doubt, truly inspiring in the air of Italy:

For wheresoe'er they turn their ravish'd eyes,
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise,
Poetic fields encompass them around,
And still they seem to tread on classic ground;
For there the muse so oft her harp has strung,
That not a mountain rears its head unsung:
Renown'd inverse each shady thicket grows,
And ev'ry stream in heav'nly numbers flows.

Notwithstanding this beautiful description, my scepticism will not allow
me to believe in these miraculous genii.

Lord Byron mentions these improvisatri, in his "Beppo," but not in a way
that leads me to suppose, he considered them capable of original poetry.
Mr. Addison, in his account of Italy, says, "I cannot forbear mentioning a
custom at Venice, which they tell me is peculiar to the common people of
this country, of singing stanzas out of Tasso. They are set to a pretty
solemn tune, and when one begins in any part of the poet, it is odds, but
he will be answered by somebody