have not one like that?" My husband did not understand the question, and his look probably expressed his perplexity, for the duke added, "I mean so good a likeness. I should be vexed that anybody possessed such a one but myself—a better it is not possible to find, and I should not like anybody else to have as good a one."

Mr. Mathews replied that it was indeed excellent, and that he was not so fortunate as to possess so true a resemblance. The duke then gazed upon the picture, saying, with emotion and strong emphasis, "She was one of the best of women, Mr. Mathews." My husband felt that the duke was sincere in his belief: indeed, there was something so affecting in his manner of paying this simple and spontaneous tribute to the memory of the mother of his children, that it brought tears into the eyes of him to whom it was addressed. The duke, perceiving this, pressed my husband's hand, and added, "You knew her, Mathews; therefore, must have known her excellence."

After a short pause, the duke diverted the onversation from the interesting subject into which he had been betrayed, to the scene of the previous night; and, after commenting upon what most pleased him, in his characteristically blunt manner said something in reference to his obligations, and not very extensive means to be liberal; and while he hesitated in what becoming manner he could tell one of the royal family that he did not like payment of any kind out of the regular routine of his profession, even for "obliging" him, the duke placed a little case into his hand, and said, “Mathews, I am not rich enough to remunerate such talent as yours, or make a suitable return for your kind exertions of last night, which delighted us all; but I hope you will gratify me by your acceptance of the contents of this little purse, for the purpose of purchasing some small addition to your collection of paintings, in remembrance of me and of the original of that portrait." The case contained a £50

bank-note.

This was so gracefully though simply expressed, that Mathews made his bow in acknowledgment and departed, deeply touched at the feeling evidence of the duke's recollections of what had been.

"In relating this fact," says Mr. Mathews, "I feel unconscious that I am committing an impropriety; for, in my estimation, the King of England lost nothing of the respect felt

for him by the admitted fact that the prince had loved the mother of his children."-Life and Correspondence.

MISS MELLON.

"To our cottage," says Mrs. Mathews, "Harriet Mellon, then a youthful, slim, and beautiful creature, came, all joy and simplicity, for a day's recreation. How merry and happy she was! perhaps happier than when splendour hedged her in from the enjoyment of simple pleasures, the love of which I believe to have been inherent in her nature. I see her now, returning from a tumble into a neighbouring pond, in the middle of which her horse had unexpectedly chosen to drink. How unaffectedly she protested, when dragged out, that she did not care for the accident, and walked home, though with difficulty, across the common, with her muslin garments saturated with muddy water, and her beautiful hair dripping down her back! How we laughed while we afterwards dragged off the wet clothes from her fine form, half apprehensive for the consequences! Then again, what peals of merriment attended her re-appearance in the borrowed, ill-fitting dress that had been cast upon her, and the uncouth turban that bound her straightened hair, and which she was compelled to wear for the rest of the day! What amusement her figure created! How well she converted by her good humour an almost serious accident into one of general entertainment! How many other drolleries have I seen her enact at various periods, in the same place, my husband the leader of such revels! This little spot was in reality the sans souci of our friends, and little Twig the presiding deity of the place, and the epitome of fun and merriment; as such he was allowed perfect liberty for the time. One day he entered the room with his hands full of the sibylline leaves of the nursery-in other words, half a pack of very dirty cards, which he had abstracted from his maid's drawer, and with which he offered to tell Miss Mellon her fortune. Borrowing the cant and phraseology of the owner of them, he foretold that his favourite would some day be 'married'-not to Mr. Coutts, the banker-not to the Duke of St. Alban's-but to a 'handsome carpenter.'

"We ceased our intimacy with Miss Mellon just as she be came a rich woman; but in after years we never glanced at each other in public for a moment, that I did not fancy that the Duchess of St. Alban's looked as if she remembered

these scenes, and felt that they were very happy. 'Twig Hall,' in short, was a place not to be forgotten by its visitors. Alas! how few now remain to dwell upon the recollections this mention of it is calculated to renew !"-Life and Correspondence.

MR. MATHEWS AND THE FOREIGNERS.

Mrs. Mathews relates:-"My husband was exceedingly fond of the society of foreigners; and it was noticeable that they were all great admirers of him, in public and private lifethey really loved him. Naldi was particularly fond of his society; and, though he understood English imperfectly, seemed always to comprehend all he said. We were very intimate with Signor Naldi, who invariably addressed my husband- Dear Mat-hew Naldi liked to talk English, and was always encouraged in this liking by his friend, who never failed, by his management, to elicit something amusing from the practice. The Prince Regent had made him a present of a snuff-box, in consequence of his singing before him on some occasion. Naldi, who was a refined gentleman in his ideas, was gratified at this mode of receiving compensation, and wished Mr. Mathews to understand that he was better pleased with the present of the snuff-box (on the lid of which appeared the royal donor's portrait) than he should have been had the prince given him a thousand pounds! This sentiment he conveyed to my husband the next time they met, in his own peculiar way- See dear Mat-hew! dee boox, presente me from de Regent Prince! If I am a tousand pounds, I was not so proud as dees boox!'

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Ambrogetti's love and admiration had all the character of infantine regard, and used to show itself most amusingly. His English was even worse (or better) than Naldi's, for he had not mixed so much in English society as Naldi had done, neither had he been so long in this country. One night at a supper-table, Ambrogetti was seated next my husband, who was much diverted with his ardent admirer, and the childish delight he exhibited at all Mr. Mathews said or did. My husband took pleasure in exciting his droll expressions, and was surprising him with all sorts of things. At last, Ambrogetti, wrought up to the climax of his wonder, having previously used every known word with which he could express his rapture, cried out, in a transport of delight, embracing him at the same moment, 'Oh, Mat-hew! you are my sweetheart

"Sor, the guitar-player, was another of my husband's devoted admirers. Meeting Mr. Mathews's for the first time at an evening party, he watched and followed him about the room with the fondest attention, listening to all he said with the greatest apparent admiration and enjoyment. At last he contrived to enter into conversation with him; and Mr. Mathews, as usual, with foreigners, led him on to talk in English. "Sor began by complimenting my husband on his extraordinary powers, professing himself his great admirer, and a constant attendant upon him in public. This was at the time Mr. Mathews acted in the drama, before his At Homes were contemplated. Sor mentioned the delight he had felt at the last new character he had seen him represent, and laughed over, in his recollection, the points which most amused him; but he could not remember the title of the piece which had so entertained him, although he declared it was one of his greatest favourites. Mr. Mathews suggested several. “Non, non, non," said the perplexed Spaniard, still trying to explain. After many attempts, he at last endeavoured to do this by describing each particular of the dress worn in the piece by Mr. Mathews, who would not assist his memory.

6

""Cott (coat) vite? (Mr. Mathews shook his head). 'Large caps?' (capes). De man vis de large buttons, vite?' (Still Mr. Mathews affected not to know.) 'Large hat, vite? Nossgay!' (Another shake of the head.) Long veep!' (whip). Oh, so droll at long veep!' Mr. Mathews could not but be aware that he meant the farce of Hit or Miss. At last Sor exclaimed, 'Oh, now I know, now I know; I recollect in French de nom! it is Frappé ou Mademoiselle ! This translation may be worthily placed with La dernière Chemise de l'Amour, from Cibber's play, called Love's last Shift.

"I recollect one night, at the Haymarket Theatre, after Mr. Mathews's performance of Mr. Wiggins, a distinguished foreigner found his way behind the scenes; and seeing the performer reduced to his own 'fair proportions,' and dressed for another character, threw up his hands and eyes at the con- • trast he now presented-from the overfed figure in the first piece to the traveling Sharp in the Lying Valet. The Frenchman was full of compliments; he was enchanted with Monsieur Viggen, and declared he must hasten back to his box to see him again, although he professed to be almost exhausted with laughter. 'I most go my box to laugh more den I can

-I never so laugh before,' adding, with a low bow, 'but, indeed you deserve to be laughed at by everybody.""

MACKLIN AND CHARLES MATHEWS.

In early life, Mathews sought an interview with the celebrated Charles Macklin,* who had then attained a hundred years and upwards. He had been recommended to recite to him for the purpose of gaining the veteran's opinion and instructions; and, going by appointment to the residence of the aged man in Tavistock Row, he found him ready to receive him. When the door was opened, and the youth announced, there was Macklin in his arm-chair, from which he did not attempt to rise, nor, indeed, take any notice of the entrance of the stranger, but remained with an arm on either elbow of the chair he sat in, looking sour and severe at his expected pupil, who, hesitating on the threshold, paused timidly, nay fearfully, which occasioned the centenary to call out, in any but inviting tones, "Come nearer! What do you stand there for? You can't act in the gap of the door!" The young man approached.

"Well," added Macklin, in a voice ill calculated to inspire confidence, "don't be afraid! Now, let me hear you."

This crabbed austerity completely chilled the aspirant's ardour; however, mustering up all the confidence this harsh reception had left him, he began to declaim according to the approved rules of "speech-days." Macklin, sitting like a stern judge waiting to pronounce sentence upon a criminal, rather than to laud a hero, soon interrupted the speech with a mock imitation of the novice's monotonous tones, barking out, "Bow, wow, wow, wow!" This was enough to damp the Thespian flame which had lighted the poor youth into the presence of the terrible old man, and he felt himself unable to make another essay, but stood, with downcast eyes and swelling heart, awaiting the verdict which he expected. At last Macklin, with increased severity of mannear and voice, asked (poking his head forward at the same time, as if to impress his question the more strongly)—

* Charles Macklin (real name MacLaughlin), actor and dramatist, born in 1690, first appeared in London in 1725, specially celebrated for his performance of the character of "Shylock." His best-known comedy is the Man of the World, which still keeps the stage. He died in 1797, aged one hundred and seven.--Editor's Note in Mathews's Life and Correspondence.