THE THE NARROWS, AND FORT HAMILTON. THE engraving in the present number of the ROVER is a very fine specimen of the art, and presents to the eye a most beautiful picture. Little need be said in illustration of it, for it "tells its own story." There are few experienced mariners in the civilized world, who do not know something about "the Narrows;" who have not either seen them with their own eyes, or heard some account of them from their fellow tars. ROVER. To our country readers, who may not be so familiar with matters on the sea-board, it is proper we should say that "the Narrows" is the pass between Long and Staten Island, at the entrance to the bay and harbor of New York; some ten or twelve miles from the city. The engraving gives a very accurate view of the scenery of the place, and is therefore as valuable for its truth as for its beauty. As this is one of the principle points for the defence of the city, a strong garrison is constantly maintained here, and in summer time the route to Fort Hamilton through Brooklyn forms a favorite drive to numerous citizens, who are attracted thither by the beauty of the scenery, and the healthful sea breezes. they were sure to receive a reward proportioned to the beauty and rarity of their offerings. It was, however, remarked that Boufflers almost always preferred the butterflies brought by the prettiest girls: his scrutiny turned rather upon their features, their natural and simple graces, than upon the objects it was his office to select. An engaging face, a graceful carriage, or a well-turned person, was pretty sure not to be rejected. Thus the beautiful temple declined in splendor, but fewer poor little girls went away dis THE TEMPLE OF BUTTERFLIES. THE Chevalier de Boufflers, whom Delie character-appointed; and the Duchess's bounty passing through ized as "the honor of knighthood and the flower of the easy hands of the Chevalier, was diffused more Troubadours," the eratic poet, the agreeable novelist, widely, and gladdened more hearts. so long the delight of the saloons of Paris, was by turns an abbot, a colonel of hussars, a painter, an academician, a legislator, and, under all these characters, the most gay, careless, and witty, of French cavaliers. I was long acquainted with this highly gifted man. I saw him in 1780 at the beautiful estate of Chanteloup, near Amboise, whither the Duke de Choiseul, then an exile from the court, attracted many of the most distinguished men of France, whether for birth or merit. It was the focus of the most brilliant wits and beauties of the day. The Duchess de Choiseul, whose memory is still cherished on the lovely banks of the Loire, had a friendship for the Chevalier de Boufflers which did her honor; he was her companion in the walks, in the chase, and still more frequently in her visits to the cottages of the peasantry, to whom this accomplished and excellent woman constantly administered comfort and assistance. Boufflers was frequently a witness to the Duchess's assiduous cares about her favorite temple. "Chevalier," said she to him, with a smile, "I run no risk in introducing you among my butterflies; they will take you for one of themselves, and will not be frightened." On one occasion, when Madame de Choiseul was compelled by illness to keep her room for some weeks, she gave the key of her temple to the Chevalier, who found ample compensation for the trouble of his charge, in the pleasure of receiving the country girls who daily came to recruit the numerous family of butterflies. He encouraged them to talk about their rural sports, and their love affairs, so that he was soon master of the chronicles of all the surrounding villages. In this way he frequently caught ideas and expressions with which he afterward adorned his poems. Madame de Choiseul, who was, in her youth, intimate with Buffon, had imbibed from that celebrated man a strong taste for the observation of natural objects. Her library contained a complete collection of natural historians, ancient and modern. Among the villagers who came to offer the fruits of their chase, he had frequently remarked a girl of about fifteen, whose large deep blue eyes, jet black eyebrows, and laughing mouth, graceful and easy carriage, and sweet, soft voice realized the most poetical descriptions of rural beauty. To crown her attractions, he found that she was the daughter of a forester of Amboise, and that her name was Aline. This pretty name was the title of a tale of his, which had been greatly admired. It may be imagined that he felt a peculiar interest in this young girl, and with what pleasure he rewarded her, in the Duchess's name, and how he took advantage of the pretext afforded by the beauty of any of her butterflies, to double the gift. Boufflers soon drew from her the secret of her heart; he learnt how she loved Charles Verner, son of the keeper of the castle, but his father opposed their union on account of the disparity of their fortunes. Boufflers who thought love levelled all distinctions, secretly resolved to serve the young Aline. He sent for Charles Verner, found him worthy to be the possessor of so lovely a creature, and spoke in his behalf to the Duchess, who wishing to have some fair pretext for contributing toward the marriage portion of the Chevalier's protege, made it known in the neighborhood, that at the end of the season she would give a prize of twenty-five louis d'ors to the girl who brought her the greatest number of rare and beautiful butterflies. The emulation excited among the young villagers may easily be imagined; and whether it was that the fresh verdure of Aline's native forest of Amboise was propitious to her, or whether she was more agile and dexterous than the others, it fell The delightful and exhaustless study had inspired Madame de Choiseul with a new and fanciful idea, Opposite to the windows of her own room she had erected a temple of gauze of antique form, and sheltered by an ample roof; during the summer she amused herself with collecting in this airy palace all the most beautiful butterflies of the country. The Duchess alone had a key of the Temple of Butterflies, which was peopled by the assiduity of the village girls of the neighborhood. They strove, by pre-out that she often presented Madame de Choiseul, senting to her continually some new species, to obtain through her kind protector, with the butterflies upon the privilege of speaking to their beloved patroness, and which Reaumur had fixed the highest value. VOL. II.-No. 6. 82 THE TEMPLE OF BUTTERFLIES. One day when the Duke and Duchess, accompanied by the train of nobles who formed the usual society of Chanteloup, were walking in that part of the park bordering on the forest, Aline, with a gauze net in her hand, and panting for breath, came running joyously up to Boufflers, and said to him, with that innocent familiarity he had encouraged in her, "Look, Monsieur le Chevalier, what do you think of my butterflies? you are such a fine judge of them." The speech was sus ceptible of an application so curiously fitted to the known character of Boufflers, that every body laughed. He took the butterflies from Aline's hands, and told her they were really of a rare and valuable kind; one, especially, which, with its four azure wings of enormous size, studded with flame-colored eyes, and its long black proboscis, supplied the only deficiency in the temple, and completed the Duchess's immense collection. It was instantly decided that Aline had won the promised prize; she soon afterward received it from the hands of Madame de Choiseul, and Boufflers added a golden cross, which Aline promised to wear as long as she lived. It was now the middle of Autumn, and as the pleasares of Paris became daily more brilliant and inviting, the Chevalier de Boufflers could not resist their attractions, though he left the delightful abode of Chanteloup with regret. Before he went away he saw the maiden who had so deeply interested him, and obtained from the father of her lover the promise that he would con sent to their marriage as soon as Aline had a sufficient portion. He recommended her warmly to the Duchess's kindness, and departed for the capital. A short time after, the Duke de Choiseul quitted a world in which he had exercised such vast power, and so courageously withstood his numerous enemies. His widow was compelled to sacrifice nearly the whole of her own fortune, to pay the debts contracted by her husband, who had outshone all the nobles of the court in magnificence. She sold the estate of Chanteloup to the Duke de Penthievre, and went to live at Paris. Aline, thus deprived of her patroness, lost all hope of being united to her lover, whose father remained inflexible, and the young man, in a fit of desperation, enlisted in a regiment of dragoons. Boufflers heard of this. By a fortunate chance the Colonel of the regiment was his near relative and friend, and Charles did so much credit to his recommendation, that he soon rose to the rank of Marechal des Logis. On his first leave of absence, he hastened to Chanteloup, where he found his fair one provided with a sufficient portion by the Chevalier's generosity; the old keeper no longer withheld his consent, and the lovers were speedily united. paid him on his poems, only served to remind him of the lovely and captivating women who had inspired them; those on his novel, of the delights of Chanteloup, of the amiable Duchess de Choiseul, (who had survived her husband only a few years,) and of the Temple of Butterflies. Twenty years passed away, and France fell into the confusion of political dissensions, and at length, into all the horrors of the first revolution. Boufflers, though friendly to the opinions which were then propagated by the true lovers of liberty, was compelled, after the deplorable 10th of August, 1792, to quit France and take refuge in Berlin. Prince Henry and the king of Prussia, after keeping him for some time with them, gave him an estate in Poland, where, like a true French knight, he founded a colony for all the emigrants who were driven from their unhappy country. But in spite of all the advantages, and all the consolations he received in foreign lands, he never ceased to sigh after Paris. Thither his family, his friends, his most cherished habits, all called him. The compliments The storm of the Revolution having subsided, many proscribed persons obtained leave to return to France; among these was Boufflers, who left Poland, traveling homeward through Bohemia, Bavaria, and Switzerland. He wished to revisit the beautiful shores of the lake of Geneva, where, thirty years before, he had passed a time which he never recurred to without delight. He therefore stopped at Lausanne, and fearing lest his name might expose him to some disagreeable curiosity or supervision, he had furnished himself with a passport under the name of Foubers a French painter. In this character, which he had more than once assumed before, he presented himself in the first houses of Lausanne, where he was received with all the attentions due to genuine talent. The rage for M. Foubers, and for his fine miniature portraits, was universal. As he was anxious to obtain beautiful subjects, he was constantly told that he ought to paint the Countess de Lauterbach; she was described to him as a lady of French origin, and the widow of a Bavarian general, who, at his death, had left her considerable property, including a magnificent estate, situated on the banks of the lake, at a few miles distance from Lausanne. At a fete given by one of the principal inhabitants of Lausanne, the beautiful Countess of Lauterbach was present, and more than justified all his expectations. He was introduced to the Countess, who appeared struck by the sound of his voice, and agitated by some emotion which she strove to dissemble. They entered into conversation, and Boufflers expressed the most earnest desire to paint from so fine a model. After a moment's reflection, the Countess accepted his offer; and, as if struck by some sudden thought, fixed a day for Foubers to go to her house, at the same time expressing her pleasure at being painted by a French artist. On the day appointed, a caleche stopped at the door of his lodging, and conveyed him to the Chateau de St. Sulpice, situated on the banks of the lake, opposite to the superb ampitheatre traced by the Alps on the horizon. Boufflers arrived; he crossed an outer court, passed through a handsome hall, and entered a vast saloon, in which every thing announced opulence and taste. One one side of the room hung a full-lengthportrait of the late Duchess de Choiseul, seated near the Temple of Butterflies, with a volume of Boufflers' works in her hand. The Chevalier could not control the emotions which agitated him and forced tears from his eyes. "What recollections!" exclaimed he involuntarily: this Countess de Lauterbach must certainly be of the Choiseul family. I shall like her the better." While he gave himself up to these reflections, a chamberlain came to tell him that his lady would be occupied for a short time, that she begged M. Foubers to excuse her, and desired him to ask whether he would be pleased to walk into her plantation a la Française. Boufflers followed his conductor through a long suite of apartments, where he entered an avenue of limes, and at the first turning, he saw, under the shade of some large trees, a temple of gauze precisely like the Duchess de Choiseul's. The temple was filled with butterflies of every species, and over the door was an |