emphasis, feeling, and effect.

At the time that greater performer, the elephant, made his appearance on the boards, his own board became a subject of no trifling consideration with the managers, particularly as the African had taken a predilection for rum, which the new actor used to quaff with extraordinary zest. On one occasion Cooke was missing from a morning rehearsal, and all had been some time in waiting for the tragedian, when the messenger whom Kerable despatched in search of him, returned grinning to the green-room. "Where is Mr. Cooke, sir?" demanded Kemble. "He is below breakfasting with the elephant, sir!" was the reply.

It was too much for Cooke, after having so frequently disappointed full houses, to be obliged to play to an empty theatre. It was like playing whist with dummy. However, towards the close of the O. P. war, (which, by the way, excited more the attention of the Parisians than the national contest in which we were engaged,) the public had adopted the plan of never commencing operations until half-price, to the injury of the manager's purse. It was during the earlier acts of "The Man of the World," that Cooke, in performing to "a beggarly account of empty boxes," was addressed by one of the actors, in accordance with the scene, in a whisper; when the elevated comedian, casting a glance around, bitterly observed, "Speak out: there need be no secret. No one hears us." Poor Cooke could not plead in excuse what an actor did on being hissed for too sober a representation of a drunken part, "Ladies and gentlemen, I beg your pardon: but it is really the first time I ever was intoxicated."

His death was in singular accordance with his taste through life. He sought the banks of the Brandywine, and whether it were that the composition of its stream so little responded to its title as to prey upon his spirits, or from some other cause, there he "drank his last."

DICKEY SUETT.

I met with him once in a house situated on the very confines of Beef and Law; on the line of demarcation between the theatres and Lincoln's Inn; a sort of debateable ground between the spouters and ranters of the stage, and the eaters of commons, by either of which party it was frequented. Around a large table in the parlour sat a motley group. There were ragged wits, well-dressed students, new-fledged actors, a hackney writer or so, an Irish barrister named Shuter, a Scotch reporter, and a hodge-podge of most discordant materials congregated under the amalgamating power of Suett, who seemed, by the incongruity of his dress and diversified manner, to have studied the various tastes of those he swayed, and to be the comprehensive representative of each of the strange beings he looked upon, with all of whom he would occasionally identify himself with so much ease, that it were hard to say whether it was the result of labour or of tact, of calculation, or the mere impulse of mother-wit. The ropes of his face, when drawn taught, peculiarly commanded the attention of the Caledonian, while the sly and humorous glance of his half-shut eye was acknowledged by the Hibernian to whom it was addressed; the snow drift of powder which lay in patches on his long, straight hair, agreed with the taste of his dramatic nursling; the far-extended cambric of white frill imposed upon the students, while the unseemly rents in his coat at once compensated to the wits for what there might be of gaudy or gay in his outward man. We were received with equal courtesy and ceremony by the president; and were just seated, when a ballet-dancer of Drury-lane entered. As he was a Frenchman, it became a question of national politeness: and Dicky chestered him to his dexter! and, as was befitting, condescended to address him. "I am proud, sir," said Suett, with the formality of Black Rod himself, "to do the honours of my country to the representative of a nation which held my master Garrick in peculiar respect. He was a great actor, sir; a wonderful man! Your Lekain, or any other Cain, could not come up to him, for he was Able, Pardon the pun. Oh, la!—but he was vain, sir; vain as a peacock; it could not be of his person. Had he been, as Richard has it, 'a marvellous proper man' like myself, one might have said something. He used to say, I was too lean for Suett. Oh, dear. A votre santé, Monsieur, happy to see you on this side the Channel. Never been to France yet, although in the Straits great part of my life, and not unfrequently half seas over.—Well, sir, to return to Garrick. There was that man 'frae the north,' who wrote the History of England and Roderick Random,—the latter a true story, they say;—he who challenged Campbell the barrister, for calling him names, To bias the cause. Well, sir, Davy refused one of his farces; but the wily Caledonian pocketed the affront, in coolly observing, 'that he had nearly completed another volume of his history, and hoped he might be permitted to name the British Roscius, the pride of his country, and all that sort of thing.' It was a palpable hit, sir—the thing was settled—the manager managed; and Smelfungus retired, without his manuscript, half sorry he had not added another scene to his farce. Well, sir, the story got wind, and some days after Davy dined with a lawyer who had interested himself vainly for a friend's comedy with him, when, in the course of conversation, the barrister observed to Davy, before a large company, that he had nearly compiled another volume of The Statutes at large (would they were all at large), and hoped he might be permitted to name the British Roscius, the pride of his country. There was a roar at the expense of Garrick. 'The galled jade' winced terribly:—he was touchy as tinder, sir:—never was Digest so ill-digested.'"

It was when the meteor-like popularity of little Betty was at its height that poor Suett fell ill, at what he termed his town residence (a second-floor in a low street), and the pigmy Roscius, having eaten too much fruit, kept all London in intense agony for his fate at the same moment. Bulletins were exhibited in Southampton-row several times a-day, signed by numerous physicians. Had he died, how posterity would have been befooled! Suett was then actually dying, yet would he have his joke, and his last moments were cheered by the horse-laugh of the rabble assembled to spell the bulletin suspended to "the second-floor bell," attested by the mark of the old woman who attended him. "You shall be buried in Saint Paul's," said a friend. "Oh, la!" was the dying ejaculation of the comedian.

New Monthly Magazine.

THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

AMERICAN TRAVELLING.

June 7th, at three in the morning, the steam-boat (which was of immense size, and on the high pressure system) arrived at Albany, having come one hundred and sixty miles in seventeen hours, including stoppages. I found that, unluckily, the mail-coach had left the place just before our arrival, so I booked myself in an accommodation-stage, which was to reach Boston (a distance of one hundred and sixty miles) in three days, and entered the wretched-looking vehicle, with a heavy heart, at eight o'clock.... The machine in which I travelled was slow and crowded. The proprietor had undertaken to let us rest at night on the road; but we found that his notions of rest were very imperfect, and that his night was one of the polar regions.—Having partaken of a wretched dinner at Sand Lake, we arrived about one in the morning at Cheshire, where we were to sleep.

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