engaged Mrs. Mardyn for the part of Myrrha in "Sardanapalus," and the bill stated “ that the noble author wrote the part of Myrrha for Mrs. Mardyn." This certainly is a gratis dictum, since not only was the tragedy written abroad, but in the preface Lord Byron himself expressly states, not only that he never intended it for the theatre, but that he hoped it never would be brought upon the stage, as had been the case against his express wishes. Hence it is impossible that he should have written the part of Myrrha for Mrs. Mardyn.

The following letter closes the history of this absurd affair :—

'Paris, Sunday Afternoon. "Sir,-Overwhelmed by a medley of mortifications, and with a spirit absolutely prostrated from a disappointment of its fondest wish, it is my irksome yet inevitable duty to address you.

"On the morning of Friday last I apprised you (through a friend's medium) that my indisposition had so far abated as to permit the commencement of my journey with the ensuing day. Either I had deceived myself as to the degree of my convalescence at that moment, or some hours after I had incurred a new attack through the fatiguing process of packing my dresses in the ante-room, where I thoughtlessly was exposed to different draughts of air. By some fatality or other, my illness returned with so sudden an access of violence, that I was forced to send for medical aid during the night. Departure at the hour proposed was impossible; still I admitted the delusion of hope up to the present moment-the latest to which I dared delay. I feel too feeble to cross the room without support, and the state of my throat will only allow me to swallow liquids. My medical friend assures me it must be many days, perhaps a fortnight, ere my strength can be sufficiently recruited to encounter the liabilities of my long journey. Under such a conviction I dare not ask, nor even wish, that you should adhere to your proposals with me, or delay the production of Sardanapalus' another day on my account. I cannot display by language the feelings which distress me. I have already passed the Rubicon of my voluntary retirement, and presented my name once more upon the broad field of public life; yet now, at the very instant when trumpets flourish and banners are unfurled, I seem to fly ingloriously from the fight my rashness had invoked; but it is my destiny; and my cross-grained planet is in the ascendant now. May the evil beam exhaust its malice on me, and leave the theatre untouched in its caprice! Yes, let me hope, devoutly hope, the delay which has already occurred may, in no respect, prove prejudicial to your interests. I am too weak to write more. May the success of the tragedy be everything you can desire; many names of talent will doubtless be enrolled amidst its dramatis personæ, but not one upon which you might have relied for zeal (whatever the talent) more steadfastly than on that of, Sir, your most deeply-afflicted but most grateful servant,

"CHARLOTTE MARDYN.

"P.S. So soon as I can possibly venture into a carriage, I shall remove to my country house, near Fontainebleau, for change of air.

“To A. Bunn, Esq., Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London."

There seems to be little doubt that all that passed about Mrs. Mardyn and her proposed performance of the part of Myrrha in "Sardanapalus" was a hoax, played by a certain English dramatist formerly resident in Bath, but now domiciled in Paris. It is quite certain, to those who know anything of Mrs. Mardyn, that she could not have written the last letter*.

*The Manager, in his Note-Book, omits to say where Mrs. Mardyn is at present--we have heard that she is the wife of a French peer.-ED.

GEORGE COLMAN (THE YOUNGer).

George Colman announced, in 1814, at the Haymarket Theatre, a speaking pantomime. It was produced on the 12th of August, and thus advertised in the bills of the day :-" Will be produced an anomalous, mutilo-quacious, ludicro-magico, absurdo-ritiocinatico pantomimical entertainment, yclept Doctor Hocus Pocus; or, Harlequin Washed White.'"

:

The following prologue was spoken by Terry :

"Unmindful of dramatic laws to-night,
We break them all; great Aristotle slight,
And put e'en POSSIBILITY to flight.

Patch'd up with Harlequin, a wild alliance,
And set our big-wigg'd judges at defiance.

}

And thou who many a scribbler's suit hast heard,
Dear NONSENSE! goddess of the sweet ABSURD!

Thee we invoke; not thee his silly twin,

On whose mere held-up finger idiots grin;
But thee, by whose anomaly of rule
The wisest seasonably play the fool;
While thought unbends of relaxation glad,
And reason's self runs rationally mad.

Ye critics, when ye pat a play-wright's skull,
And cry Be thou correct, however dull!
Should every dramatist your precepts keep,

Then none would go to hiss-but all would go to sleep.
Our author loath dull safety's path to plod,

Would rather hear you growl than see you nod;

And dashes now at scenes with scarce a plan

To move your iron muscles, if he can.

If he should prove, which would not be surprising,
Too ludicrous for sleep or criticising,

Why your alternatives are clear as day

Viz.-either laugh like mad, or go away!

Yet oh! the first of these two methods choose ;
For rarely Englishmen of sense refuse

Indulgence e'en to follies that amuse.

But heavy folly ne'er will please, depend on't;

Should ours be dull-damn us, and there's an end on't."

Mathews's accident was a great drawback on the success of the piece: his Harlequin was nothing like what was originally intended; the part was obliged to be entirely altered; he, being unable to stand alone, played it on crutches-that, to be sure, was of itself a novelty. Nevertheless, that circumstance may be fairly considered as the principal cause of the piece not succeeding to the great extent that was expected, and occasioned the following paragraph, intended for the next day's play-bills, to be withdrawn. It was written by Colman as a satire on the growing puffs (then only in their infancy), which have since been carried to such an extent as entirely to subvert their object :

"The public is respectfully informed that the new piece called Doctor Hocus Pocus, was received (for the first time) last night with most miraculous, ravishing, and unique applause. The house resounded with articulate expressions of sudden merriment, till stentorian bursts of laughter shook the walls to the foundation for several hours after the audience had left the

theatre. But the chief surveyor has, with magical expedition, in the course of five minutes, restored this elegantly stupendous building to the most splendid durability. The piece will be repeated every evening till further notice to accommodate future generations.'

Before the prologue the following apology was made :—

"Before the curtain rises I am requested to say a few words in behalf of an individual. Mr. Mathews still continues to suffer much from his late severe accident, but he trusts that his anxiety in coming forward thus early to perform his duty to you, and to fulfil his engagement here, will atone for his deficiencies in the bodily activity requisite in the character he is about to perform. A former celebrated proprietor of this theatre once enjoyed the fullest favour as a Devil upon two Sticks, and, it is hoped, nay, it cannot be doubted, that you will now extend your utmost indulgence to a Harlequin upon one."

The term speaking pantomime was much cavilled at, and caused considerable discussion among the hypercritics; they carried it against Colman, in spite of the following vindication:

"The term speaking pantomime' is not new. The Genius of Nonsense and Harlequin Teague,' constructed by the elder Colman, are styled speaking pantomimes in the Biographia Dramatica. But let us see how far the phrase may be allowable.

"A mime, in the Greek and Latin, signifies either a buffoon or buffoonery itself: it is employed in the latter sense as to the point in question.

"In Hederick's Lexicon we find Moλoyew, mimos recito, I recite mimes; and Mipoloyos, qui mimos recita, he who recites mimes;' and we are further told that, in an epigram, Echo is called Muoλoyos, imitans HUMANAN VOCEM,' imitating the HUMAN VOICE. In the pantomime of Doctor Hocus Pocus' (the piece now in question), Mr. Mathews's part of Harlequin was chiefly made up of imitations of voice and action.

"It appears, then, from the above quotation, that mimes may be recited or spoken, and a mime that is spoken may very fairly be called a speaking mime.

"But PANTOMIME, it is argued, means ALL mime. What then? From the above authority, a mime may be all speaking as well as gesticulation, or a mixture of both and the above furnishes matter enough to combat, if not conquer, the big-wigs on their own ground.

"But admit their objections, and what remains? Why, that if etymologists would condescend to consider, and feel, the ludicrous, they might discover some pleasantry in that contradiction of term, a speaking pantomime,' when used to announce a Harlequinade confessedly replete with nonsense and inconsistencies, and which is afterwards said in the play-bills to be

MUTO-LOQUACIOUS.

"How the learned gentlemen came to choak at the first term, yet to swallow the second, is unaccountable; or rather, how the second did not instruct them in what spirit to understand the first, may easily be accounted for, when it is recollected that very scholastic men are not the most open to humour: in other words, that they are generally most prodigiously slow at taking a joke.

"27th June, 1815.

"G. C."

"MY DEAR-The above scrawl on so frivolous a matter scarcely deserves to be sent upon paper, but as you seemed to desire it, there it is. "Yours truly,

66

G. COLMAN."

MATHEWS.

Mathews's father, as everybody knows, kept a bookseller's shop, No. 18, in the Strand, and was, moreover, a Methodist preacher. His early holdings forth were in Moorfields, in the open air; but he afterwards had a small wooden chapel near the turnpike at Whetstone, having also a little cottage on the opposite side of the road, to which he retired after his morning lecture; and, having dined, smoked his pipe in his garden till his congregation reassembled for their afternoon's admonition. He latterly performed at a chapel near Queen-square, Westminster.

Charles Mathews was the seventh son of a seventh son. After having been for some time under a Mr. Pownall at St. Martin's Free School, he was sent with his brother (who died at Tobago) to Merchant Taylors' School*. At fourteen-three years before he left school-he was apprenticed to his father.

In his entertainment entitled his "Youthful Days," he states that he was born on the 28th of June, 1776: this must have been an error, as will appear in this narrative.

In 1831 Pierce Egan put forth a prospectus for publishing the life of Elliston. The following is Mathews's reply to Egan's application to him on that subject :—

"Ivy Cottage, Kentish Town.

"My dear Sir,-Luckily I can prove an alibi, or you would certainly accuse me of great rudeness, and with some justice on your side. I was in Yorkshire when your letter was written. On my return I found bundles (as you may suppose at this time of the year), most of which required immediate answers, and I have attended to yours at the first leisure moment. "I regret that it is not in my power to be of much service to you in the work you have undertaken, with so much capable zeal. Since the destruction of Drury-lane Theatre, I have lost sight of poor Elliston, and really cannot furnish one anecdote of him that is not perfectly well known. As far as the one fact relating to our early intimacy, you may state with confidence the following circumstance :

"I was educated at Merchant Tailors' School, and Elliston at St. Paul's. In the evenings we became schoolfellows, inasmuch as we were taught French by a Parisian lady of the name of Coterille: she had a small but select school, and at the Christmas holidays improved the boys, by getting up English plays, much to the annoyance of my father, who was a preacher of Lady Huntingdon's connexion. But for this circumstance most probably I should never have commenced actor. Here, however, at a pastry-cook's shop, up one pair of stairs, No. 121 in the Strand, two doors from Bedfordstreet, I made my first appearance, in Phoenix, in the "Distressed Mother." Elliston was the Pyrrhus, and carried away the attention and applause from the rest; he was pronounced to be a second Garrick. The next year, 1793, the" Orphan was chosen for representation-Elliston, Chamont; I, Chapone. As far as my recollection goes, he never acted better than upon those two occasions. He was the little oracle of our school, and the admiration of the old and young.

"I once more repeat my exceeding regret that I cannot do more to assist you in your praiseworthy task. And am, my dear Sir, yours very truly, "C. MATHEWS."

*It was at St. Martin's school that the inimitable Liston was subsequently usher.-ED.

Mathews's first public essay was at the Richmond theatre, 7th Sept. 1793. "The tragedy of Richard the Third;' Richard by a gentleman (his first appearance on any stage), and Richmond by a gentleman (his first appearance on any stage). After which The Son-inLaw; Bowkit by the gentleman who performs Richmond, and Signor Arionelli by the gentleman who performs Richard." Mathews acted Richmond and Bowkit; his friend acted the other parts; the Duke of York was performed by the present Mrs. Bartley; and Lady Ann by Miss Collins (the present Mrs. T. Woodfall): all the rest of the dramatis persona have quitted the stage of life. Mathews acted Richmond in a light horseman's jacket and helmet.

The manager exacted fifteen pounds from these two young men before he would suffer them to act. Towards the conclusion of the fourth act, Richard, being somewhat fagged, and having to play in the farce, requested Mathews to spare him in the fight, and let him die easy: but Mathews being fresh in the field, and anxious to display his skill in fencing (for which he had been taking lessons), was determined to have as much as he could for his seven pounds ten shillings, and nothing could move him. In vain was the request repeated. Richard fell from exhaustion, and died without a wound, before Richmond had displayed half of his intended manoeuvres. Richard made a second attempt at the Haymarket Theatre in the same character a short time after, but it was a complete failure.

The following account of the affair appeared in the " Thespian Magazine," of which both Richard and Richmond were editors :

"No performer ever received much applause in the representation of Richmond, though most have appeared respectable: such was the young gentleman who took this part; timidity often occasioned his speaking too low to be distinctly heard at the distant seats: becoming more himself, he gave The weary sun hath made a golden set,' with credit and deserved praise in the battle; the concluding speech he delivered too feeble to afford him much applause. His dress was elegant, his person genteel; had he been more correct, his acting would have been less mechanical. In Bowkit he appeared with less fear, good attitude, and graceful step; his vivacity was much restrained by having the questions asked him too hastily by Baker, who performed Cranky. His song With an air debonair' was loudly encored, and went off well. Through the whole performance he showed requisite versatility of powers for the characters he had undertaken, but were he to study his abilities, he would soon discover characters different to Bowkit that would suit him better. He had not the benefit of a single rehearsal. Neither of these gentlemen have attained their twentieth year."

On the 25th of October a private play was performed at Sadler's Wells-" " and Douglas << Ways and Means;" Glenalvon by the Richmond Richard, who spoke an address of his own writing. Mathews bade adieu to tragedy, and played the little part of Old Random, in "Ways and Means."

On the 13th of September he sang a song ("The Jew Pedlar") between the acts at a private theatre in Gate-street, Lincoln's-innFields, under the same roof with Ebenezer Chapel. The theatre was that night broken open, and his dress and pedlar's box stolen.

At the commencement of 1794, he made another appearance at a private theatre in Short's-gardens, Drury-lane, known by the name of the