D'ALQUEN used to play at CAPTAIN NEWBERRY'S. He got one of his violins when the Captain died. He did a great deal for music in Brighton. He was an admirable musician, an excellent teacher, and a German artist of the solid MOSCHELES type. I was one night at his house when a telegram arrived to say that Sebastopol had at last fallen, and D'ALQUEN sat down to the piano and executed a rather disjointed but murderous improvisation inspired by the siege and ultimate surrender of that redoubtable fortress; the great guns in the bass were continuous and the firing was very heavy. Before midnight another telegram arrived to say that it was all a mistake, and Sebastopol had not fallen. Of course we took no notice, and indeed were rather anxious to conceal the awkward and malaprop intelligence from the worthy Professor. We all felt it was high time Sevastopol did fall, and some time afterwards it fell, and D'ALQUEN'S piano, which had suffered considerably from the cannonade by anticipation, had at last something to show for it.