The following traits of John Wilkes are pleasant and characteristic.

At the end of a fortnight, I took a trip to the back of the Island, and in my way called on Mr. Wilkes, then residing at his villa, (late the property of General Heatherset) near Sandown Fort. We had not seen each other for some years, and I, consequently, found him peculiarly kind and entertaining. His dress, excepting in one instance, was perfectly Arcadian; instead of a crook, he walked about his grounds with a hoe, raking up weeds and destroying vipers.

Observing that I admired his numerous collection of pigeons, he described to me the difficulty he had experienced in his attempts to make them stay with him. Every bird that he had procured from England, Ireland, and France, having flown back to its native land the moment the latch was raised, he was about to abandon his scheme as impracticable," when," he continued, "I bethought myself to procure a cock and hen pouter, from Scotland; I need not add, that they never returned."

Wilkes then conducting me over the remainder of his grounds, showed me a large pond in his garden, which he said he had been compelled to have well stocked with carp, tench, perch, and eels; "because," he added, "fish is almost the only rare article by the sea-side."

He, however, praised the Newport market, which he regularly attended, and said that the glance from his eye, as he facetiously termed his squint, had done great execution with the farmers' pretty daughters in that quarter. "But," he continued, " my glance, I am sorry to say, has not everywhere met with a similar success; for, another person in the town, a lottery-office keeper, actually offered me, the other day, half a ticket not to pass and repass his shop-door, during the drawing, positively swearing, that since my visit to Newport, he could not calculate his losses at less than two blanks to a squint."

The conversation with Mr. Wilkes then returning to the politics of his times, I asked him in which of his duels he considered himself to have been in most danger? He replied" In that with Martin, who, strange to say, during eight whole months after the supposed injury, uttered no complaint; but on the meeting of Parliament, he spoke to me in terms that induced me to write a letter, which concluded with the following sentence. To cut off, however, every pretence of ignorance, I whisper in your ear, that every passage of the North Briton in which you have been named, was written by me.'

"To this Mr. Martin immediately replied by a challenge to meet him, within an hour, in the ring in Hyde Park; without offering me either the choice of weapons or of place; so, I proceeded to the ground totally unconscious of the manner in which we were to fight. When he approached, he coldly bowed, and requested me to select two from the four pistols he held in his hand. We had no seconds; and the space between us was remarkably short; I do not know the precise distance, or we did not measure it., Martin fired first, aud missed me. It was then my turn; but the pistol I held flashed in the pan. On my adversary's next fire, his ball entered my body; I fell immediately, and bled profusely. He thought that I was killed, and approached to offer me his assistance. But the mist before my eyes became so thick, I could see nothing distinctly. I told him, that I thought he had killed me honourably; and, if I lived sufficiently long, I would leave a written testimony to that effect. I then begged that he would make his immediate escape. He departed, and I fainted; after which I have no recollection, till I found myself on my bed.

"The following day I returned him his challenge, that, in case of my death, no evidence might appear against him. Some months afterwards, I met him at Paris; and ever since we have continued on amicable terms."

Wilkes pressing me to stay dinner, I accepted the invitation. The lady, who lived with him, dined with us. She was nearly as plain as Wilkes himself; so, though a happy, they certainly could not be called a handsome couple. After dinner, the servant brought in various London papers, and publications, in one of which were bantering allusions to the worthy alderman and his beauteous cara sposa :

"Ah, sure a pair was never seen

So justly form'd to meet by nature.”

His remark on the circumstance was very apt.

“You see, Madam, the most censorious cannot say there is any difference between us."

On the subject of theatrical admissions we quote an extract, on account of

its intrinsic value, as arising from one who had so long and so intimate an acquaintance with stage interests. The abuse to which it alludes, concerns more than the manager of a theatre; for the public are directly interested in the success of theatricals; and even if they were not insulted by an impertinent interference with their right of judgment in matters of taste, yet whatever tends to injure the establishment is injurious to them, by abstracting from their pleasures.

But my family, like many other families at that time, voting an order to be a sort of eleemosynary mendicant contribution, and completely infra dig., pride comIt may now appear strange, though it pelled me to decline the acceptance of one. is perfectly true, that, in those days, many most respectable individuals, who, from economical motives, declined paying to the boxes, would rather mob it, as they expressed themselves, in the gallery, than accept admissions to the best places, at no other expense than, perhaps, a cold look from the donor, and a contemptuous one from the check deliverer.

How different is the case now, and how ruinous is the present system! If the manager cannot fill his house by natural means, he immediately has recourse to hothouse measures, and forces one!-as if languor would not ensue as much after the use of stimuli in theatricals, as of stimuli in physic. But, "SQUEEZE," is now the watchword of every assembly, fashionable, dramatic, or political, throughout the kingdom.

As the prostitution, however, of this kind of accommodation paper, like the paper kite in commercial concerns, so frequently recoils, had not a manager better boldly look a few bad houses in the face, than by patching up appearances, continue to play nightly to overflowing audiences, and to an empty treasury.

For the exemplification of my theory, I must again recur to self; the very nature of my work compels me to be personal, perhaps even to appear egotistical-so, I beg pardon, but must continue. I have had nearly fifty dramatic pieces performed, and for more than half my theatrical career have had an unlimited power of writing orders. As during the long run of some of my comedies, I suppose, at least, five hundred people must have gained admission through my privilege, I very soon found, that, owing to the ease with which these passports were obtained, what was originally received from me as a favor, was soon demanded from me as a right; with the actual addition of a request to secure good places, or to procure a private

box in lieu.

I soon also found that every person who received an order, conceived that there was attached to it all the coxcombry of criticism; and while the paying spectator spontaneously applauded, when his feelings prompted, the liberty boy, influenced by green-room opinions, party spleen, or self-consequence, if he clapped at all, would clap with gloved hands; and when he hissed, often his "custom in the afternoon," would say, in excuse for this unexpected courtesy, he thought it was the duty of every one of the author's real friends, to effectively aid his future improvement by present correction.

During the run of my really popular, half popular, really damned, and half damned pieces, I should imagine that I have, on an average, written or procured one hundred and fifty double orders to each; consequently, calculating from the commencement of my dramatic career, down to the present period, on the aggregate, above fifteen thousand people have, through my privilege alone, entered the theatre gratis.

But, to conclude this, in every respect, unprofitable subject, I will merely add, that the only token of gratitude I ever remember to have received from the aforesaid fifteen thousand freemen, was a short civil note from a pastry-cook's boy in Dean-street, thanking me for his four admissions to the gallery, and requesting my acceptance of a raspberry puff, and a little pigeon pie!

Only one word more. In the opinion of those most skilled in the arcana of theatrical management, yearly free admissions, not transferable, rather serve a theatre, than injure it; but, were I manager, (which the gods prohibit!) I think I should say "Adieu for ever" to nightly ones at least, I would only give them to particular friends, certainly not to the town at large, because in opposition to Churchill's well known line,

"And for a playhouse freedom lose their own,"

they now prove nightly that they, not the manager, are the independent party.

We must refer the reader, for we have not room to cite the passage, to a lively picture, in the second volume of these memoirs, of the humours of a Theatrical Fund Dinner, which at that time, and for a long period, continued the emporium of all that was whimsical, eccentric, and fanciful, in theatrical life. The hero of the adventure recorded by Mr. Reynolds, we happen to know, was the late Mr. Cooke, for many years treasurer of Covent Garden theatre; and his story simply that of a man who, having defended the reputation of his absent friend, told him of the circumstance." Well, what did they say of me?""That you were not fit to carry garbage to a bear."-" And what did you reply?"Why, I insisted on it you were." In Reynolds's account of the success of his play called "The Caravan," he treats with much gaiety the extrinsic sources of his triumph.

"The introduction of real water on the stage, and of a dog to jump into it from a high rock, for the purpose of saving a child, were both incidents, at that time, so entirely unknown in theatrical exhibitions, that their very novelty rendered every body, during the production of the piece, most sanguine as to its success; provided, (for there is always one or more provisos on these occasions,) that the two principal performers, the animal and the element, could be brought into action. Accordingly proposals and inquiries were soon set on foot; and being prosecuted "with a little industry," (as one of the principal agents on this occasion invariably expressed himself,) the objects of their search were at length found :—the water was hired from old father Thames; and the dog, of the proprietor of an A-la-mode beef shop.

The water we found tractable and accommodating; but during the first and second rehearsals, Carlo (for such was the name of our hero) sulked, and seemed, according to the technical phrase, inclined to "play booty." After several other successive trials he would not jump; but at last, owing to the platform on which he stood being enclosed by two projecting scenes, and his attention being thus removed from the distractions of stage lights, boards, et cetera, he immediately made the desired leap, and repeated it at least a dozen times, as much to his own as to our satisfaction. On the first representation of The Caravan, after his performance of this extraordinary feat, and after his triumphant exit with the supposed drowning child, the effect far exceeded our most sanguine expectations. Thus Carlo was lauded to the skies; and in spite of the invidious and exaggerated detractions of its classical opponents, the water, as usual, found its level.

Thanks to my friend Carlo, I could now again boldly show my face, strut about the streets, and give patronizing bows, and protecting nods, in my turn-Money too!-If they were inclined to call me "swindler," and "rascal," for writing a failing comedy, what would they have called me, had they known that I cleared three hundred and fifty pounds simply by a dog jumping into a small tank of water!

After witnessing the first representation, I had not quitted the theatre above ten minutes, when Sheridan suddenly came into the green-room, on purpose, as it was imagined, to wish the author joy.

"Where is he?" was the first question; "where is my guardian angel ?" "The author has just retired," answered the prompter.

"Pooh," replied Sheridan, " I mean the dog; actor, author, and preserver of Drury Lane Theatre."

Of the Roscius mania our author speaks as it deserves: but posterity, if posterity ever gets a sight of the book, will scarcely credit the story of its extravagance. Yet we well remember on the first night of Betty's appearance at Covent Garden, after having escaped suffocation in forcing an entry into the theatre, we again had our life in jeopardy, by declaring our dissent from the popular creed, and declaring our conviction that many men, many women, and many children, could act as well as the favourite tragedian of the hour. Upon this occasion, indeed, the anti-catholics were fairly outdone in intolerance; and, strange as it may seem, there were not wanting persons ready to cry out" The church is in danger!" against those who were mad enough to dispute the supremacy of this idol of their imagination.

Like most members of the theatre, Reynolds is given to ultra loyalty. This is all as it should be, very amusing in its way, and very harmless. We

question, however, if Lord Eldon will not rank our author along with the subject of poor Cooke's decies repetita placebit story of the Bear Feeder, for the defence of his official procrastination, which is dragged in neck and shoulders at p. 222. Indeed we are much more mistaken than any reviewer, ex virtute officii, can well be, if the Chancellor does not think much the same of all his numerous defenders, who cry out "long live delay," and "God bless those who've anything to give," very wisely concluding that there are occasions, and that his own case is "of them," in which" the least said is the soonest mended." Upon the whole, we strongly recommend these volumes to the elder amateurs of the theatre, as being replete with reminiscences, " pleasant and mournful to the soul." To the younger idlers, "whom folly pleases, and whose follies please," we prescribe them as a necessary part of that summer's cruise of light reading, so essential to the efficacy of watering places on their health and spirits in the ensuing winter's campaign.

SKETCHES OF PARISIAN SOCIETY, POLITICS, & LITERATURE You recollect the interest which the trial of Warren Hastings excited in England. If you substitute the word curiosity for interest, you may form an idea of the state of Parisian society at the present moment. All this sensation has been excited by the celebrated M. Ouvrard, a man of considerable talent, whom M. de Villele imprisoned, or suffered to be imprisoned about a year ago; though our prime minister would now, however, gladly give some millions to see him at liberty, and a thousand leagues from Paris.

Our dauphin is extremely religious, and does not want for courage, but having been, even during his emigration, constantly surrounded by old ultra flatterers, his ignorance of the world exceeds all belief. In April, 1823, Louis XVIII. appointed him to take the command of the army about to enter Spain, and accordingly the Prince took the sacrament, and set out for Bayonne. There he found men, horses, and artillery; but through the negligence of the Duke de Bellune, the war minister, there was no corn for the men, no forage for the horses, and no horses for the train. Marshal Victor, who was formerly a drummer named Beausoleil, and who used to beat the drum at the weddings of the working people at Valence, in Dauphiné, was an object of dislike in the army, when Napoleon made him a Marshal, during the Prussian campaign in 1807. Through his own stupidity he was made prisoner by a chief of Prussian partizans, and this excited the murmurs of the army. Napoleon reprimanded him severely at Mantereau, during the campaign of 1814. Having lost the good graces of Napoleon's friends, the Duke de Bellune turned a furious ultra; and as good sentiments, and not talent, are sure of gaining favour under the government of the Bourbons, this imbecile man, worn out by age, was minister of war in April 1823, when the French were on the point of entering Spain.

The Duke d'Angouleme was filled with horror, when, on reaching Bayonne, he found the men in want of food and clothing, and the horses reduced to the last ration of forage. Unable to conceive that a man who had been made a marshal by Napoleon, could evince such an utter want of common sense as such extraordinary neglect would imply, the Prince concluded that he was betrayed: it has been recorded that His Royal Highness passed two whole days in weeping. Luckily for his glory, and unluckily for Spain, the hope of booty had taken the famous Julien Ouvrard to Bayonne. I intended giving you a sketch of the life of this singular man, extracted from his amusing memoirs, of which the third edition is now on sale. But not to interrupt the curious narrative, which for the last month has been repeated in all our saloons, I must inform you that M. Ouvrard had not been forty-eight hours in Bayonne before he discovered that all was going wrong; that he alone was able to extricate the Prince from his perplexity; and that July. VOL. XVII. NO. LXVII.

G

thereby he might pocket some millions. As a proof of the folly of the warminister, I may tell you that the wooden spades for the artillery were made at Metz, when they might have been supplied from the first forest of the Pyrenees. The bridge equipage was constructed at Strasburgh; and, finally, to alleviate the misery of the troops who were perishing of hunger at Bayonne, the Duke de Bellune purchased a supply of corn at Hamburgh.

It is not unlikely that some future historian, priding himself on his own shrewdness, may regard as the result of treachery that which was caused solely by the profound imbecility of Master Beausoleil, and the dishonesty of some of his inferiors. Fortunately for the Duke d'Angouleme, the chief officer of his staff was General Guilleminot, a man distinguished for prudence and good sense, and who had, under Napoleon, been appointed to direct Prince Eugene Beauharnois, when viceroy of Italy. Ouvrard and General 'Guilleminot soon understood each other. Shall I give the General an interest in my enterprise? was the question which Ouvrard asked himself. In a memorial just published, Ouvrard explains the whole secret of his conduct. “I was," he says, "well acquainted with the Peninsula; on the 5th of April our troops were dying of hunger at Bayonne; therefore, said I, we must enter Spain. At this period of the year, the old harvest is not to be depended on. In Spain there is always sun enough to ripen the corn, but if there be no rain in the month of April, the harvest fails. What is the state of the weather on the other side of the Pyrenees? I inquired of all the spies of the Army of the Faith. Horrible weather,' was the reply: the rain falls in torrents.' 'Good,' said Ouvrard, we shall not want corn;"" and he immediately concluded a contract, by which he undertook to supply the army with provisions, from the time of the third march after their entrance into Spain. By this bargain M. Ouvrard secured to himself an exorbitant price for every ration of bread; but had it not been for him, the troops would have had no bread to eat.

The ultras, enraged at the unlimited confidence which the Duke d'Angouleme placed in a plebeian general, got up, as they did at Lyons, a pretended conspiracy; and an aid-de-camp of the Duke de Bellune, caused the arrest of M. de Lostande, General Guilleminot's aid-de-camp: they dared not arrest the general himself. The Duke d'Angouleme, highly incensed, dismissed the Duke de Bellune, who had repaired to Bayonne to be the chief of his staff, and General Guilleminot was re-instated. The prince manifested his displeasure at the conduct of the body guards, who, it is said, refused to obey the orders of a man, who, like General Guilleminot, had been ennobled by Napoleon. At length the French entered Spain. Ouvrard procured supplies for the army without making requisitions, without prepared magazines, without pillaging the inhabitants; and, in shor', he was the only individual in the whole army who evinced any thing like talent.

There are some facts connected with this expedition, with which you are probably unacquainted:

1st. The campaign cost France 397,000,000 of francs.

2d. Thenumber of men who died, either through sickness or on the field of battle, amounted to 5,100; and in most of the engagements not mɔre than 20 men were killed.

3d. A 100,000 men entered Spain, and through an inconceivable system of roguery, 100,000 men continued to be paid and fed in France. That is to say, they were paid doubly, since one man could not on the same day consume his ration in Cadiz and in Paris. This fraud, which has been disclosed by M. Ouvrard, cost 47,000,000 of francs. It is one of the causes of M. de Villele's displeasure against the Chamber of Peers, who demanded more ample information on the subject. Without the assistance of M. Ouvrard, the Duke d'Angouleme could not have entered Spain, or at least could not have

The General, who is now a peer of France, and our ambassador at Constantinople, is implicated in the affair before the Chambers.