play under different disguises and in different characters. No doubt there is much exaggeration in these. I was myself sceptical as to Mathews's power of concealing his identity from persons to whom he was known. I happened to mention this to Peter Coxe, who assured me the following instance occurred under his own observation.

"I was invited," quoth Peter, "to dine at the Piazza Coffeehouse to meet a select party, among whom was Mathews. The room we dined in had two doors. Mathews sat on the right hand of our entertainer, by whose desire I seated myself next to Mathews. During dinner, the latter mentioned that an acquaintance of his, an obstinate, opiniated old bachelor, whom he had known in the north was now in town, and that he was exceedingly apprehensive this person, who was intolerably rude and overbearing, would find him out, and force himself on the company. After dinner, Mathews made himself exceedingly agreeable, and we were all in the acme of enjoyment, when the waiter, entering, announced that an elderly gentleman was below, inquiring for Mr. Mathews.

"What's his name?' asked Mathews in great alarm.

"He didn't say, sir. He says he knows you are here, and he must see you.'

"Old Twhaites, by cried Mathews, starting up;-' knew he'd ferret me out.'

Stay ;-what sort of a man is he?' said our entertainer. "Has he a brown great-coat on?' demanded Mathews. 66 6 Yes, sir.'

"Green specs?'

"Yes, sir.'

"Scratch wig?'

'Yes, sir.'

"Stoops a good deal, and speaks in a north-country accent?' "Exactly, sir; you've-'

"Ah! I knew it,' interrupted Mathews, shrugging up his shoulders, and shooting to the stair's head.

"I tell you I know he's in the house, and I will see him!' vociferated a voice on the stairs.

'Say Bannister's taken ill-I'm gone to the theatre,' cried Mathews, rushing in, seizing his hat, and bolting.

"He had scarcely made his exit at one door, when Old Thwaites appeared at the other. The latter's appearance corresponded in every respect with the description given by Mathews.

"Where's Mathus?' demanded he, abruptly, in a strong northcountry accent. I know he's here,' continued he, hobbling into the room, and looking sharply around, and I must see him.'

"Mr. Mathews was here, sir,' replied our host, with more politeness than I thought the occasion called for; 'but he's just gone to the theatre, and—'

That won't pass with me,' interrupted Mr. Thwaites, rudely. I know he's in the house ;-you can't bamboozle me. I know he does n't play to-night,-I've ascertained that. So here,' continued he, putting down his hat and stick, and seating himself in the chair Mathews had just vacated, 'here I stay until I've seen him.' "We all stared at this.

"You're quite welcome to stay, sir, as long as you please,' said

our entertainer, coolly. But what I tell you is the fact. Mr. Bannister is taken suddenly ill, and

"It's a lie, sir!' interrupted Mr. Thwaites again; 'it's a d-d lie, sir!' repeated he, striking the table with his fist until the glasses jingled again, and you all know it,' concluded he, looking fiercely

around.

"Of course, we all rose at this.

"Pray, gentlemen,' said our entertainer,' be seated, I beg. As an elderly gentleman,-as a friend of Mr. Mathews, Mr. Thwaites is privileged to-pray resume your seats, gentlemen.'

"We obeyed; though I confess I felt strongly inclined, in spite of his years, to kick the intruder out.

"So you know me, do you?' proceeded Mr. Thwaites, filling out a bumper; Mathus mentioned me, did he? Pah! what rotgut stuff! what beastly wine! I wonder you can drink such rubbish. Pah!-nothing but sloe-juice and cyder. But anything— anything's good enough for you cockneys,' added he, with a sneer. Ha! ha!-curse me if I think you know good wine when you get it.'

"Some of us ventured to dissent from this. But Mr. Thwaites stuck to his assertion, and maintained it with so much rudeness, that it required all the tact of our entertainer to preserve order. No matter what subject was started, Mr. Thwaites was sure to render it the theme for discord; until at length, the patience of the company becoming exhausted, we rose en masse, and were on the point of forcibly ejecting the intruder, who, pulling off his wig and spectacles, disclosed the features of Mathews himself!

"I had for some time suspected this. My proximity to the supposed Mr. Thwaites enabled me to detect a horse-hair attached to the wig, which, passing under Mathews's nose, entirely changed the expression of his countenance. But no other person, except our entertainer, who was in the secret, had the slightest suspicion of the cheat; the admirable manner in which Mathews supported his assumed character, but above all, the celerity with which he returned, so completely altered in his appearance, precluding the possibility of his being identified."

Perhaps a more amusing companion than Mathews never existed; though it must be confessed his excitable temperament sometimes rendered him the reverse. Like most wits, he could not bear a rival near the throne. If he did not engross the sole and undivided attention of the company, he sat silent. A certain wicked wit, now no more, took advantage of this one Sunday at Stanmore, where several members of the Lyceum company, as was customary during the season at that theatre, were dining with the manager.

Mathews, who occupied the post of honour next to Mr. Arnold, was in high spirits. He was telling some of his best stories with happiest effect, as repeated bursts of laughter from those in his neighbourhood testified.

Hang it let us get up a laugh here," cried P-, who, with Wrench, Pearman, and some of the juniors, sat without ear-shot at the lower end of the table. "I don't see why those bigwigs should have all the fun to themselves."

What the plague are we to laugh at?" said Wrench.

"Oh! anything-nothing," answered P-. "What signifies what

we laugh at, so we do laugh? Arrah! fire away, boys!-here goes -Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah!"

66

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah!" chorussed all the others. Again," whispered P, and again they burst into a perfect mouthquake of laughter.

This violent hilarity attracted the attention of the upper end of the table. Mathews, who was in the middle of one of his choicest morceaux, stopped, and looked annoyed.

"What's the joke, gentlemen?" inquired he, after a pause,— "must be monstrous good by your laughing so. Come, pray let's have it; don't keep it to yourselves,-that's not fair, you know." "Come, what is it, P-?" inquired Arnold.

"Oh, nothing-nothing worth repeating, sir," said P—; and, after another pause, Mathews, at Arnold's request, resumed his story. He had no sooner got in medias res, than another guffaw shook he lower end of the table. Mathews looked daggers.

"Nay, hang it! this is too bad, gentlemen," said he, at length, pettishly. "You ought to let us have it up here you ought, really. Arnold, I appeal to you :-ought n't they to let us have it up here? They've no right to tantalize us in this sort of-eh?-have they,

now?"

"Oh, decidedly not," said Arnold.

Oh, decidedly not," echoed the upper end of the table. "Come, what is it, P-?" resumed Arnold impatiently.

"Ay, pray let us have it," pursued Mathews, getting still more annoyed.

"Hear! hear! hear "" shouted the rest of the seniors, laughing, and beginning to take the joke.

"Oh, it's nothing-nothing you'd at all care to hear," said P— after another pause; "it's not, I give you my honour. It's just a little joke we have down here among ourselves-ha! ha! ha!—that's all-eh, lads?"

"Oh, just a little joke we have among ourselves," repeated the latter, laughing.

"You seem determined to keep it there, gentlemen," said Arnold gravely. "But come, pass the bottle, Mathews, will you? and let us have the rest of that story."

But Mathews could not proceed. He found it impossible to rally. Others had attracted the attention of the company, and during the rest of the evening he sat moody and disconcerted.

Mathews was the first to introduce a genuine Yankee to an English audience, who highly relished his Jonathan W. Doobikins. His Eulogium on Liberty, ending with "D'ye want to buy a nigger ?" always convulsed the house. It was as good, in its way, as Zanga's "Know then-'twas I," for the delivery of which Mossop was so famous. Indeed, Mathews turned his trip to America altogether to excellent account, though, like most Europeans in the United States, he met with many things which annoyed him. Like Dickens, he appears to have found the eternal shaking of hands on all occasions an intolerable nuisance. "Only think!" he exclaimed to an Englishman he met in Broadway, I dined out yesterday where there were fifty people, and had to shake hands with 'em all." The servants annoyed him still more. and ring.

He would call at a house

Servant answers door.

Mathews (forgetting he's in America). Is your master at home? Servant (indignantly). I have no master! (Walks off)

Mathews. Whew! there she goes again. I've set her republican back up. What a nuisance! This is the way they always serve me. Really, I beg her ladyship's pardon-ha! ha!-always forget-no masters, no mistresses in America-all independent-all ladies and gentlemen here. Well,-must announce myself as usual, I suppose. What a bore!—no, no,--shan't occur again-shan't-poz! (Goes in, and shuts door.)

Next day, Mathews calls again.

Mathews (forgetting as usual). Is your master at home?
Servant turns on her heel, and walks off.

Mathews. Oh, d-n it! this is intolerable! They call themselves helps, too,-helps!-ha! ha!-That's monstrous good-amazingly funny-ha! ha! Helps, indeed!-one way of helping a man, certainly, turning up "her right honorable nose," and walking off in this sort of Well, now I am determined (takes out tablets) I won't get into this scrape again. (Writes.) "Mem.-No masters or mistresses in America, except in the slave States.” There, that settles it.

But, alack! when Mathews called again, he forgot all about it, and the same scene was enacted da capo.

There was an old woman, too, who bored him exceedingly. This person, who had a figure like a feather-bed, never saw Mathews without detailing her complaints to him. One day, after running through the catalogue as usual, she added,—" And then I was tookwith a pain in the small of my back, sir."

"In the small of your back, ma'am !" interrupted Mathews, losing all patience; "in heaven's name, where can that be?" Mathews was thrown by a skittish horse. Incledon met him mounted on a fresh purchase.

A few days after,

"Hallo, Charley!" cried the former, "are you sure that new Bucephalus of yours is safe?"

“Oh, certain,” replied Mathews; "I took good care to ascertain that before I bought him."

"How did you manage that?"

By sawing him well under the tail with the bridle," answered Mathews.

DANDYISM AND GEORGE BRUMMELL.

[Impressed with the idea that Beau Brummell's biographer (Captain Jesse) has been too matter-of-fact, has treated his hero too much in the national spirit, and given his countrymen a kind of straightforward delineation of his character, rather than a philosophical analysis of it, M. d'Aurevilly, whom we beg to introduce to the reader, has presented us with a disquisition both profound and mephysical, which enforces us to smile at its laborious trifling, while we admire the ingenuity of the author. "It is the Dandy," he observes, we would discuss, his influence, and social position; what signifies the rest?" We wish we could afford room for more of the "metaphysical aid" which M. d'Aurevilly has brought to the rescue, or, rather, to the elevation of the character of the unhappy and illfated Beau. What is given, however, furnishes a fair specimen of our author's analytical acumen.]

George Brummell, born at Westminster, was the son of W. Brummell, Esq., private secretary to Lord North, who, like the son of his protégé, was now and then a dandy himself, and slept contemptuously on the ministerial benches during the most virulent attacks of the opposition.

After his fall, Mr. Brummell retired to the country, where he lived in the indulgence of that opulent hospitality, the spirit and force of which are understood by Englishmen only. Here Fox and Sheridan visited; and one of the earliest impressions of the future dandy was received while listening to the inspired sallies of these fascinating and intellectual men. By these was he endowed; but they gave him but half their power, the most ephemeral of their faculties. There cannot be a doubt that, living as Brummell did amongst these wits, whose casual conversation was as excellent in its way as their parliamentary displays, and whose pleasantry was eloquence, those faculties were gradually developed which subsequently rendered him one of the first conversationalists of his day. In 1790 he was sent to Eton; and there the pains he bestowed upon his dress, and the cold languor of his manner, gained for him the nickname then in vogue; he was called Buck Brummell, for dandy was not yet the mot. His popularity at school was equal to Canning's; but that of the latter arose from the ardour of his soul, and the kindness of his disposition, while Brummell's justified and illustrated the words of Machiavel, "the world belongs to cold hearts." From Eton he went to Oxford, where he had also a share of that success to which he was destined; and on leaving the University on the death of his father, he entered the army as cornet of the 10th Hussars. People have taken a world of trouble to explain the Prince of Wales's sudden fancy to him, and anecdotes are told touching this sudden partiality which are not worth repeating. What is the use of all such gossip? It was impossible that he should not attract the attention of the man who was said to be more pleased with, and prouder of his own distinguished manners than of his elevated rank and the brilliancy of his youth, which he sought with such anxiety to perpetuate.

At this period the Prince was thirty-two, and handsome,

of the