"But the boy, whose mind was full of other matters, and who, having wandered away in the morning, before the delirium became so violent, had no idea of his mother's imminent danger, broke from them without catching the meaning of their words, and forced his way up stairs, towards the great drawing room, the folding doors of which were swinging open. "He went in. Madame Zerlini was there--flung down upon a sofa, in an attitude which, in life, it would have been impossible for her to maintain for many moments. Her head was cast back over one of the pillows, so far, that her long hair, which had been imperfectly fastened, had disengaged itself by its own weight, and was now sweeping heavily downward, with a crushed wreath of passion flowers and myrtles half buried among it. Every thing about her told how fiercely the spirit had passed. Her robe of scarlet muslin was entirely torn off on one shoulder, and disclosed its exquisitely rounded proportions. Her glittering _negligé_ was unclasped, and one end of it clenched firmly in the small left hand, which there was now hardly any possibility of unclosing. Her glazed eyes were wide open--her mouth set in an unnatural, yet fascinating smile; her cheek still flushed with a more delicate, yet intense red than belongs to health; and the excited boy, who was rushing hastily into the room, with the rapid inquiry, 'Where is Father Vanezzi?' stood as fixed on the threshhold, with sudden and conscious horror, as if he had been a thing of marble." It is not our intention to analyze, or even to give a compend of the Tale of Conti. Such are not the means by which any idea of its singular power can be afforded. We will content ourselves with saying that, in its prevailing tone, it bears no little resemblance to that purest, and most enthralling of fictions, the Bride of Lammermuir; and we have once before expressed our opinion of this, the master novel of Scott. It is not too much to say that no modern composition, and perhaps no composition whatever, with the single exception of Cervantes' Destruction of Numantia, approaches so nearly to the proper character of the dramas of Æschylus, as the magic tale of which Ravenswood is the hero. We are not aware of being sustained by any authority in this opinion--yet we do not believe it the less intrinsically correct. The other pieces in the volumes of Mr. Chorley are, _Margaret Sterne_, or _The Organist's Journey_--an _Essay on the Popular Love of Music_--_Rossini's Otello_--_The Imaginative Instrumental Writers, Haydn, Beethoven, &c._--_The Village Beauty's Wedding_--_Handel's Messiah_--and _A few words upon National Music_--all of which papers evince literary powers of a high order, an intimate acquaintance with the science of music, and a lofty and passionate devotion to its interests. NOBLE DEEDS OF WOMAN. _Noble Deeds of Woman. 2 vols. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea and Blanchard._