I don't know if it will have occurred to many people, but during the past few days it has been very much in my mind how largely, after all, our ideas, even as regards countries, are governed by personalities. That' our King recognises this is to my mind certain and there can be no doubt that it is to his individual personality that we owe- much of the harmony which exists at the present time between ourselves and the greater part of Europe, Qf Spain, most of our preconceived ideas gre—primarily-—that [it is the land of insurrections, and secondly, that it is mainly peopled by Grandees, most of whom would seem to have been born old. At. first sight one fools that anyone so bright and merry fall of enthusiasm as the young King who is now on a visit to these shores should rightly belong to some new country, and yet the first threatening of danger, during his recent stay in Paris, revealed the fact that the blood of the old Grandee is in the right place. When I saw the somewhat frail-looking boy, who, by the way, does not by any means look even nineteen years old—sested in one of our State carriages on his way to the Guildhall lunchron last Wednesday, I felt it difficult to realise now that only a few eriings previously lo had faced a possible outrage with a courage which must have endeared him to thousands. of people. It so chanced that a friend of mine was staying at the Hotel de Louvre at the time and was quite near to the spot when the bomb outrage took place feom lier learnt even more. about it than appeared in the papers, She told me that a second could barely have elapsed before King Alfonso stood up in the carriage, took off his hat, and waved it, and also his arms, to the populace, and 1 to. President Loubet, who was seated beside him, he remarked: "It is nothing; they throw those things about in Spainto frighten the ladies." Afterwards he said to a member of his suite that he full well knew what had happened but he did not want the President to have a bad night. Loubet begged him to at once return home and go straight to bed, but this latter he entirely declined to do until he had learnt the exact total of those killed and wounded, and upon all who have suffered, it is said, he has conferred, an order which corresponds to our V.0. Fortunately so far all has gone smoothly here with the exception of the went hor which has certainly not done its share in the matter of rejoicing. As the arrival of the royal guest. was fixed for Monduy most of the d corations had to go up on Natwzday in the streets. Had it remained fine the tens of thousands of paper roses used would undoubtedly have looked ckarmingly' appropriate, June being (theo. re tically) the month chiefly associated with that most lovely of our flowers. As a matter of fact on Sunday afternoon they really looked quite picturesque, but on Monday before seven it began to rain, and it did not stop even for five minutes all day, #0, by 4.30 in the afternoon, when everything should have looked its brightest and best, the poor roses.wore a most bedraggled and dissipated air, and it is im. Possible to imaging anything funnier than thenspect presented by high Venetian mast: on one side, I was reminded of a very tall srhich wore gold crown titled a good deal young nan ina very long race cent I once saw returning from the races. After evidently an unlucky: ay he had been drowning grief and wore his hat asmuch the same angle the Venetian mast's crown. Last night—by the command of the King—a gala performance was given at Covent Garden. As is usual on such occasions single acts only were given from favourite operas, those chosen being, the balcony scene from "Romeo et Juliette," the third act of "La Bohéme" for Melba and Caruso, and the fourth act from " Gli Ugonotti" where again Signor Caruso distinguished himself, this time in company with Madame inu. At the close of the performance' it seemed to be universally admitted that the triumph of the evening must be accorded to Madame Melba, who was in perfect voice and aang Pneoini's difficult Tausic with the greatest ease, It ig anid)
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.