his companion. On entering a town, he would take up his quarters in a house of an infamous description, instead of an inn, and has been known to stay in one place of this sort for four months. He was an admirable actor, and, what would seem incredible from his habits, an elegant and accomplished man.

Harry Johnston.-Harry Johnston, who used to be "the biggest boy in the world," had an odd style of imitating persons' manner, gait, and gesture, without attempting their voices; no one who had not seen him do it could imagine anything so ludicrous as his representation of how the principal actors would play Harlequin. The fervent lightness of Lewis, the elephantic ponderosity of Cooke, and the solemn saltatory efforts of Kemble, were irresistible; he generally ended this display by a jump à la Ellar. On one occasion, when a knot of actors and their friends were dining at Greenwich, in the house looking into the park, he gave this performance, and concluded by a lion's leap out of the window, which, as they were in the parlour, was only four or five feet from the ground. The laugh, the song, and the bottle went round, and, in another hour the party adjourned up-stairs to the first floor, as the numbers having increased, we should have been confined below. Some of our recent visitors were anxious to hear Johnston's imitations again. Harry complied, and set every body screaming at his pantomimical portraits of Holman, Suett, Pope, &c. Elated with the hilarity of his hearers, he wound up as before in the style of a veritable pantomimist, and, forgetting where he was, jumped through the window, and of course fell full sixteen feet into the park. Providentially no bones were broken, but poor Harry received a shock that none but a strong constitution could ever have recovered.

Mrs. Waylett and Mrs. Fitzwilliam.-When the "Loves of the Angels" was produced at the Strand Theatre, it was proposed to Mrs. Fitzwilliam, then lessee of Sadler's Wells, to produce a piece upon the same subject at her theatre. Mrs. Fitzwilliam said "No, no; mine's not a celestial figure. Mrs. Waylett may be the Angel at St. Clement's, if she likes ; but I won't be the Angel at Islington."

Reeve's Othello.-Othello has always been a favourite character with our tragically-given comedians. Foote appeared in it, and failed; Mathews did the same; and John Reeve made his first Thespian attempt in the Moor of Venice, at a private theatre in Wilson-street, Gray's-inn-lane.

Follett and Sheridan.-Follett, the Clown (of Covent Garden Theatre), was an extravagant, dissolute man, and always either in "gaol or in jeopardy." He was one day locked up at Hirst's, the sheriff's officer, in Took's-court, when Sheridan was brought in, who either did not know, or did not choose to recognize, Follett: but the pantomimist was not to be denied; and, slapping the dramatist on the shoulder, he exclaimed, "They talk of an enlightened age, Mr. Sheridan; and here are two such men as you and I locked up for a few paltry pounds."

Ireland, the Flying Phenomenon.-Ireland, the vaulter, was the most extraordinary natural jumper I ever saw, though I have seen many who excelled him when aided by the spring-board and other artificial contrivances. I have walked with Ireland, and he has suddenly left my arm, and, with the mere impetus of a couple of paces, jumped over a turnpikegate. His leaping over the bar opposite the Surrey Theatre, when going home half tipsy, first attracted attention towards him. In those days of practical joking, he was foremost in frolic; his animal spirits were great, and he was vain and fond of display. One trick of his was, if he saw a horse held in waiting for its rider, to stand beside it, as if uncertain which way he should turn, for a moment; and when he saw the rider coming out, to spring clean over the back of the horse, with a ludicrous appearance of anxiety to get out of the gentleman's way. What made this seem more

singular was, that Ireland always walked off as if he had performed no extraordinary feat at all, leaving those who had beheld the jump doubting the evidence of their own senses, and liable, of course, to be doubly doubted if they narrated the occurrence.

One of his stage exhibitions was, to throw a summerset over a waggon and eight horses; over a dozen grenadiers standing at present-arms with fixed bayonets. Sir Thomas Picton, a man of unquestionable courage, went to witness this exhibition; but when he saw the men placed he trembled like a leaf, and kept his head down whilst Ireland jumped; nor did he look up till he had first asked, "Has he done it?" When assured he had, he said, "A battle 's nothing to that." Ireland was very proud of all this; but at length paid the price of his temerity.

Liston and Mathews.-Liston, when at Covent Garden, in 1809, asked Mathews to act for him. Charles excused himself, as he was obliged to play the same night at the Haymarket; " And you know," said the mimic, "I can't divide myself." "I'm not sure of that," rejoined Liston: "I've seen you play in a great many different pieces."

A Scotch Auditor.-Such was their devotion to name and to "known bodies" in bonny Dundee, that when a stranger made his debût, and some unthinking Sawney was beginning to applaud him, his friend caught his Bide a wee bit; arm, and exclaimed, Hoot, mon, what are you aboot? naebody kens who he is."

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Irish Johnstone's Singing.-Jack Johnstone was very proud of his patrician acquaintances; and as the Prince of Wales was partial to his Irish ballads, he was a constant member of the jovial societies of the year 1790 and thereabouts. Suett inflated poor Johnstone with the hyperbolical praises that he vowed the Prince had lavished on his singing; whilst he amused Johnstone's associates with very different accounts. Johnstone had one note (E in alt.) which he took very clearly in his falsetto. It was his delight to dwell on that tone an unconscionable time; so much so, that Suett told Erskine that the Prince once coming into his box whilst Johnstone was at his favourite exercise, turned to his friend, and said, " I verily believe he has held that note ever since we were here last,"-the Prince having been, the week previous, (according to Suett,) driven out of the theatre by "Paddy's protracted howl."

Tom Cooke the Leader.-Tom Cooke is certainly the most facetious of fiddlers, and is the only person at present connected with theatres who smacks of the olden says of quips and cranks. Some of his conundrums are most amusing absurdities; for instance :-" Which is the best shop to get a fiddle at ?" asked a pupil. "A chemist's," said he: "because if you buy a drug there, they always give you a vial-in."

Once, whilst rehearsing a song, Braham said to Cooke, who was leading, "I drop my voice there at night," (intimating that he wished the accompaniment more piano). "You drop your voice, do you?" said Cooke. "I should like to be by and pick it up.'

During the run of Manfred lately, he said, "How Denvil keeps sober through the play I can't think; for he is calling for spirits from the first scene to the last!"

Metropolitan Stages.-Some notion of the different available sizes of the London theatres may be formed by the mention of this fact:-The stage of the Victoria theatre is 92 feet deep; that of the Strand not quite 20. (By depth is meant from the orchestra to the extremest limit of the stage.) The depth of the stage of the City theatre is only 19 feet; yet there Kean played Richard, and the' play altogether was effectively acted.

Coleridge's Remorse.-In this play, written and presented to Drury at Sheridan's urgent request, there occurs a scene in which one of the cha

racters, waiting in a cavern, is listening to the dropping of the dank dews into the deep abyss below, the poet has given him this line :

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Drip, drip, drip, a ceaseless sound of water-drops." When Sheridan heard the tragedy read, he exclaimed at this line"Drip, drip, drip, here's nothing here but dripping!"

Country Theatres.-Kean and Cooke's Wardrobes.-Great misunderstanding prevails respecting provincial theatres, few persons being aware that, though one or two country theatres profess to find a wardrobe for the actresses, and though all affirm that they have wardrobes for the actors, the fact is that country actresses find all their own dresses, robes of state and all and actors generally do the same, except perhaps in such points as regal robes, or what are technically called old men's dresses,-i. e. old court suits. As a first provincial establishment cannot afford to give, for a permanency, more than three guineas per week to their leading performers, it follows that, unless such person has some private means, he cannot hold the situation without incurring ruinous debts. When Kean, in 1808, went to a theatre in the West to appear as Romeo, he asked for his dress, and was told that it was usual for gentlemen who played first tragedy to find their own. “Then," said Kean, “I must play it in what I stand up in, for I have no other." His dress at that moment was a grey great coat (then commonly worn), buckskin breeches, and top-boots.

May not the tardy steps of G. F. Cooke, and others, to the pinnacle of popularity be attributable to their want of these adventitious advantages? How many persons of genius of both sexes must be retarded by this alone, whilst ladies of slender pretensions to talent, and still slenderer to character, over-dress most ludicrously all the parts intrusted to their mutilation! I have known several provincial performers travel with eight hundred weight of baggage, consisting of dresses, armour, ornaments, &c. &c. &c. Mr. Salter, whose untimely death prevented his debut in the metropolis, carried as much; and Mr. Pritchard, now at Dublin, carries more. evident that by crowded benefit nights only can these expenses be at all repaid. The inference is obvious; desperate debt or mendicatory degradation.

It is

Beginnings.-Dowton, in his evidence before the Dramatic Committee, when asked where he first acted publicly, replied, "In a barn at Ashburton, in Devonshire, or a cowhouse, I believe; it was not so good as a barn." Mr. Powell once played Young Norval in pattens, (because the stage was flooded from recent rains,) in a wretched shed in which the company held forth. And Kean acted Sir Giles Overreach on a billiard-table in a small room in Abergavenny.

Mathews at all times, and in all places, had his ears open for the vernacular of the natives; whilst he was ruralizing with Tate Wilkinson, he amused his private friends with imitations of some of the eccentric personages in Eboracum: amidst others, an old farmer, who was highly indignant thereat, and wrote to Tate, saying that " one of his men had been a-mocking of him," and requesting the manager to "turn him away" forthwith. At one of those brutalizing exhibitions, a bull-hank, Mathews was accidentally present, and during the maddening riot made by the infuriated brute and its tormentors, exclaimed, " Bella, horrida bella!" "You may say that," exclaimed a knowing costermonger, "I never heard a horrider beller (bellow) in my life!"

Sinclair and Abbott.-It was some years ago the fashion to attribute bulls to Sinclair, in consequence of his having once made a singular perversion of the text in Rob Roy. The language is, "Rashleigh is my cousin; but, for what reason I am unable to divine, he is my bitterest enemy." Sinclair said, "Rashleigh is my cousin, but for what reason I am unable to divine." The jokes he endured on this account made him nervous and

uncertain, and in Guy Mannering, when Dinmont says he sees "two lights dancing bonnily yon," instead of replying "Two! I see but one, and that seems pretty steady," he said "Two! I see but a couple, and they are pretty steady." On the first night of the Hunchback, Abbott, 'from overanxiety, said, in the last scene, "I'll marry no man but my cousin Ellen." His brethren joked and warned him against repeating it, and hardly a night passed that he did not consequently incur the danger of saying the same thing.

A Cool Offer.-An actor of the present day, remarkable for the elegance of his deportment rather than the greatness of his powers, when in the provinces, was in very impoverished circumstances, with a wife and four children to support on the scanty means a country engagement afforded him. A lady of independent fortune fell in love with him, and had the incredible audacity to wait upon his wife and offer a well-secured annuity for herself and respectable provision for life for the children, if she would give up all claim to her husband. The offer was of course refused, and the lady went abroad to conquer her passion as best she might.

Knight and Dowton. -Knight was not very generous in acknowledging the genius of others, and was rather niggardly in his praise of poor Emery.. "His Tyke was great," he said, "but he was not a good general low comedian." Was he not indeed?" said Dowton; "renounce me then, but I'll tell you the difference between you and him: he was a low comedian, and you, you are a small comedian."

Incledon.-Amid the other strange habits of this strange fish was that of taking a bottle of Madeira to bed with him every night, "Because," as he vowed, "the fact is, I wake lonely, melancholy, and nervous, and it sustains my energies through long hours of darkness and intense thought, d-n me.

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Oxberry and Incledon; the Biter bit.-Incledon had often passed a general invitation to Oxberry, and the latter, who knew Charley not to be very liberal, one day accepted it at once, and said, "To-day I and my friend R will take a chop with you." Charley couldn't say nay, and off they started, Incledon leading the way to Williams's ham and beef shop in the Old Bailey, where a dish of boiled round and peas-pudding was placed before each. The reckoning was discharged by Incledon, (about half a crown for them all!) and then there was a dreary pause. Well," said Oxberry, are we to have no wine?" "My dear Oxey," replied Charles, "the fact is, they have no license for wine, so if they have no wine for their license, let's adjourn elsewhere." Forth they went; the merits of divers taverns were questioned, and at length O., R., and I.popped into the Portugal. Three bottles of Madeira, two of port, and divers magnums of brandy and water cold without having been discussed, Incledon rose and said, "Let's teach ourselves, d-n me, that honourable step, d-n me, not to outsport discretion, d-n me, and now, gentlemen, I paid for the dinners, do you two pay for the wine and etceteras, d-n me." With Incledon, d-n me and bless me meant precisely the same things; they were mere expletives, and larded his discourse on all occasions. When repeating what George the Third said of him one day, he exclaimed, "The King, bless him! said to me, d-n me, Incledon, you should sing nothing but sacred music, d-n me, for your voice is seraphic, G-d d-n me!" And the Prince of Wales always said an oratorio wasn't worth a d-n without Charley Incledon.

Braham and Incledon.-When Braham tore the laurel from Incledon's brow, as the greatest English tenor, Charley thought no sort of abuse too gross for his rival: some of his wishes were monstrously incongruous: for instance, he said, "I could die in a blessed state, d-n me, if heaven would permit my old master, Jackson, to return to earth, and come up by the Exeter mail to hear that fellow sing."

MONTHLY COMMENTARY.

The New Administration-The late Duke of Gloucester-The "Emancipated" Slaves- Cambridge Installation.

THE NEW ADMINISTRATION.-The suspense in which the country was involved when last we met our readers has terminated. As we anticipated, Sir Robert Peel has accepted the Premiership, has returned to England, and has formed the Ministry.

Precisely as we expected, the first act of Sir Robert Peel, after having received his appointment from the King, was to despatch letters to Lord Stanley and Sir James Graham, two of the leading Conservative Whigs, requesting their aid and co-operation in constructing the Government: both these distinguished individuals declined the immediate acceptance of office, but expressed no intention of opposing the Ministry, so long as they felt that they could, consistently with their views of policy, afford it their support.

Under these circumstances, Sir Robert Peel resolved upon forming a Conservative Cabinet, which, while it embraced several of the experienced men of business who were connected with the former Government, should also include some individuals whose accession to office might, both from their abilities and the eminent position which they occupy in the country, give confidence to the people, and evince the determination of the Premier to afford a minute attention to the claims of every class of the community.

This Ministry having been formed, the country became anxious, previous to a general election, to be informed of the principles upon which it was based, and the course which it intended to pursue. To meet this desire for explanation, Sir Robert Peel did not hesitate to afford it, in an Address avowedly directed to his constituents at Tamworth, but which, in point of fact, embodied a development of the character and intentions of the Government he had formed.

As it appears to us that the fate and success of Sir Robert Peel's Administration depends entirely upon the confidence inspired by that Address, we do not hesitate to submit it to our readers; for although it may have been seen by most of them, we consider it a duty to put it upon record in this department of the Magazine as a matter of history, and as a subject for reference by the whole constituency of the British empire:

TO THE ELECTORS OF THE BOROUGH OF TAMWORTH.
GENTLEMEN,

On the 26th of November last, being then at Rome, I received from his Majesty a summons wholly unforeseen and unexpected by me, to return to England without delay, for the purpose of assisting his Majesty in the formation of a new Government. I instantly obeyed the command for my return; and on my arrival, I did not hesitate, after an anxious review of the position of public affairs, to place at the disposal of my Sovereign any services which I might be thought capable of rendering.