In person, Signor Rossi is less strikingly handsome than is his rival, Salvini, but he possesses a singularly attractive and pleasing countenance.  He is a Piedmontese, blue-eyed and fair-complexioned, with chestnut hair, the abundant locks of which are just touched with gray.  He is tall and finely proportioned, with the chest of a Hercules and the hands and feet of a duchess.  Off the stage he is peculiarly pleasing in manner, and is said to be a noble-hearted and generous gentleman, as well as an amiable and genial companion, singularly free from conceit and delighting in his art.

L.H.H.

BISHOP THIRLWALL’S PRECOCITY.

We do not remember to have seen in the various notices relative to the late Bishop Connop Thirlwall, the well-known historian, any mention of his precocity, which must have been almost without a parallel.  Thirlwall came of a long line of clergymen.  His father was chaplain to Dr. Percy (Percy’s Reliques), bishop of Dromore, and in 1809 he published some specimens of the early genius of his son under the title of “Primitiae; or, Essays and Poems on Various Subjects, Religious, Moral and Entertaining. By Connop Thirlwall, eleven years of age.  Dedicated by permission to the Bishop of Dromore.”  In the preface it is stated that at three years old Connop read English so well that he was taught Latin, and at four read Greek with an ease and fluency that astonished all who heard him.  An accidental circumstance revealed his talent for composition when he was seven.  Mrs. Thirlwall told her elder son, in her husband’s absence, to write out his thoughts on a certain subject.  Connop asked leave to do the same, and produced to her astonishment the following:  “How uncertain is life! for no man can tell in what hour he shall leave the world.  What numbers are snatched away in the bloom of youth, and turn the fine expectation of parents into sorrow!  All the promising pleasures of this life will fade, and we shall be buried in the dust.  God takes away a good prince from his subjects only to transplant him into everlasting joy in heaven.  A good man is not dispirited by death, for it only takes him away that he may feel the pleasures of a better world.  Death comes unawares, but never takes virtue with it.  Edward VI. died in his minority, and disappointed his subjects, to whom he had promised a happy reign.”  These reflections were probably suggested by some sermon the boy had heard, but the composition is an extraordinary piece of work at such an age.

His effusions are on various themes, and comprise quite a pretty little poem, written when he was eleven, on Tintern Abbey.  But perhaps the most remarkable circumstance of all is that this youthful prodigy lived to amply fulfill the promise of his youth, and proved as sagacious and moderate in the use of knowledge as he was marvelous in his powers of acquiring it.  There is a remarkable tribute to these powers in John