This, the students inform me, is not  at
all an uncommon occurrence. The chimney,
too, is smoking! This, they tell me is
also common, and invariable whenever coals
are put on; so that they are either obliged
to open a window, and risk a bad cold after
being in a vapour bath, or else sit in the
midst of the cloud to the injury of their eyes,
their breathing, and often to the destruction
of any delicate tints they are laying in upon
their painting. Many of them suffer headache,
pains across the eyes, in the throat,
sickness and dizziness. One student told me
she never was free from headache during the
whole six hours she was daily at work.
They would account a ventilator as a great
blessing, so much do they need a breath of
fresh air. Surely a paternal Government might
spare (out of a Surplus) two-and-sixpence, to
set a whirligig ventilator to spin a little vital
air through a hole in the wall at the top of
each of these rooms, where industrious young
women are seeking to acquire the means of
assisting their families, and of gaining an
honourable and useful independence for
themselves in future life.

This Female School of Design which had
originally been established in Somerset House,
was removed from those quarters by a
petition, which set forth the want of adequate
room.

"Very well;" said the courteous Board of
Trade, "Oh, certainly! We'll  attend to your
wish."

The School was accordingly removed to
"over the way!" This looks very like
saying inwardly, "I'll give you enough of
petitioning for a move."

Without doubt the students are right in
saying that the old room in Somerset House
was far better. It was large—though not
large enough—and they had a proper aspect
as to the light. These present rooms are said
to be only temporary; but as "temporary"
so often means, with the Government, a very
long and a very indefinite period, it has been
suggested that the School should be moved
back to Somerset House meanwhile. But
the distressed Board of Trade says there's no
room there, now. They can't find four or
five spare rooms in all Somerset House
—the great building is so full! How very
much I should like to see a statement of how
all the innumerable rooms in this great
quadrangle of great houses are filled. I
wonder whether anybody lives there!

Can nobody suggest to the Board of Trade,
some place with a proper light, where there
is at least one good large room for these
female students? The importance of a large
room, besides the advantage of light and
air, is very great. A number of students can
stand round and see the instructor paint, or
give a special lesson to a pupil, from which
others may equally benefit. Besides this,
there is a great advantage in students seeing
each other work; they learn from each
other, and it also excites emulation. Can no
such room be found in all this vast metropolis,
where so many splendid public and private
edifices and buildings exist? If Mr. Labouchere
would but intercede in a high quarter,
so that this most praiseworthy School of
Design might be located in one of the light,
airy, and beautiful stables now building for
the Prince of Wales, that would be just the
thing, both in itself, and in the quiet refinement
of its locality.

But, as for the present rooms, I need not state
—as the fact must be obvious to all—that if
a paternal Government had studied to select
one of the worst possible places for such a
school, they could not have more completely
succeeded. In points of art, and as a place of
study, I have described what it is, without
exaggeration; and as to the suitability of its
locality for respectable young females, I may
also venture to state—with no power to use
any exaggeration that can surpass the fact—
that it is in the close vicinity of several
gin-shops, pawn-shops, old rag and rascality
shops, in some of the worst courts and alleys
of London, and in a direct line with two
narrow streets, which, as disgraces, cannot be
surpassed by the worst quarter of any metropolis
in the world.

I leave London to-night by the express
train, and shall present myself before my
partners tomorrow morning in the
warehouse, with uplifted hands and eyes; but I'm
quite sure our firm will speedily avail itself of
some of the designs of those industrious
young ladies.

DARLING DOREL.

DOROTHEA SIBYLLA, Duchess of Brieg, was
born at Cöln, on the River Spree, in Prussia,
on the 19th of October, 1590. She was the
daughter of Elizabeth of Anhalt, and of John
George, Margrave and Elector of Brandenburg,
of the old princely Ascanian race. At
the death of her husband in 1598, the widowed
margravine retired to Crossen to superintend
her daughter's education. In due time suitors
were not wanting for the hand of young
Dorothea Sibylla: among others, the King
of Denmark; but he sued in vain. Dorothea
at length fixed her affections on John
Christian, Duke of Liegnitz and Brieg, who
enjoyed a great reputation for virtue, ability,
and integrity. To him after a short courtship,
Dorothea was married on the 12th of
December, 1610, at Crossen; and reached
Brieg—the small capital of her future
dominions—on the first of January in the following
year.

Such is the dry sum of a charming Court
biography, which first appeared in a periodical
published in 1829, in Silesia, and which has
been twice republished in a separate form—
once (in 1838) at Brieg, under the title of
"Passages from the Life of Dorothea Sybylla,
Duchess of Liegnitz and Brieg." It purports