of her revelries-Mr. Fulmer said it would make a capital story when she got home, but I never heard another syllabub about it.

One thing surprised me, the Pop wears three crowns together, which are so heavy that they call his cap, a tirer. His Oleness

was ill the last day we went to the Chapel at the Choir and all, having taken something delirious the day before at dinner; he was afterwards confined with romantic gout; but we saw enough of him after, and it was curious to observe the Carnals prostrating themselves successfully before him—he is like the German cornplaster which Mr. Ram used to use quite unavailable.

However, Mr. B. the best part of all, I think, was our coming home I was so afraid of the pandittis, who were all in trimbush with arquebasedes and Bagnets that I had no peace all the time we were on root-but I must say I liked Friskhearty; and Tiffaly pleased me, and so did Miss Senis's Villa and the Casket Alley; however, home is home, be it never so homely, and here we are, thank our stars.

We have a great deal to tell you, if you will but call upon us -Lavy has not been at the halter yet, nor do I know when she will, because of the mourning for poor Mr. Ram—indeed I have suffered a great deal of shag-green on account of his disease, and above all have not been able to have a party on Twelfth Night.Yours truly,

Pray write, dear Mr. B.

DOROTHEA RAMSBOTTOM.

CCCV.

In the Fugglestone Correspondence' Theodore Hook made some quizzing remarks on an itinerant company of players which Charles Mathews, the elder, foolishly accepted as a deliberate insult to the profession to which he belonged. The short interruption which followed in the intimacy of these two old friends was removed by the following letter.

Theodore Hook to Charles Mathews.

Cleveland Row: March 5, 1829.

My Dear Mathews,-You are now about one of the oldest acquaintances I have (or just now have not); some of my happiest hours have been passed in your company; I hate mincing (except in a case of veal). There is a difference, not perhaps existing

between us, but between you now and yourself at other times. They (on) say that you have been annoyed with one of my tales, as if any man except a pacha had more than one; and our goodnatured friends, bless them, make out that you are personally affected by some of the jokes about the Fugglestones, and other imaginary personages. Now, I verily believe that, if I had read that story to you before it was published, you would have enjoyed it more than any body who has read it; since to ridicule the bad part of a profession can be no satire upon the good; and, as I have said somewhere before, Lawrence might as well be annoyed at the abuse of sign-painters, or Halford angry at a satire upon quacks, as you personally with any thing reflecting upon the lower part of the theatrical world. From you yourself I verily believe I culled the art of ridiculing the humbugs of the profession. However, why you should suppose that I, after having for years (in every way I could) contributed-needlessly, I admit-to support your talents, merits, and character, professional and private, could mean to offend you, I cannot imagine. I can only say that nothing was further from my intention than to wound your feelings, or those of any other individual living, by what seemed to me a fair travestie of a fair subject for ridicule, and which I repeat never could apply to you, or any man in your sphere or station.

Now the upshot of all this is this,—where not the smallest notion of personal affront was contemplated, I think no personal feeling should remain. If you think so, come and call upon me, or tell me where I may pay you a visit. If f you don't think so, why say nothing about it, and burn this letter. But do whichever of these things you may, rest assured I do not forget old associations, and that I am, and shall be, my dear Mathews, as much yours as

ever.

And now, having said my say, I remain,

Yours most truly

THE. E. HOOK.

CCCVI.

When Mr. Bentley started his 'Miscellany' in the year 1837, with Charles Dickens for his principal contributor, he induced the Rev. R. H. Barham to assist the regular staff of collaborateurs with occasional offerings; and under the pseudonym of Thomas Ingoldsby' legend after legend appeared, and

gave popularity to the new venture. To the lady (the grand-
mother of the author of 'Tom Brown's School-days') to whom
the following letter is addressed, Mr. Barham was indebted not
only for constant supplies of legendary lore, but for the neces-
sary incentive to continue the work he had commenced. He
fully acknowledges this on the title-page of a presentation copy
of the 'Legends.'

To Mrs. Hughes, who made me do 'em,
Quod placeo est-si placeo-tuum.

The Rev. R. H. Barham to Mrs. Hughes.

March 1, 1837.

My dear Madam,-Unluckily, I was too late for your last parcel, but the worthy Mr. Sharpe promises me this shall go. Enclosed you will have the Spectre of Tappington, the pictorial illustration to which I think I told you was Dick's. You will say, perhaps, he might have been better employed. You will also recognise Hampden Pye, transformed, for the nonce, into Hamilton Tighe, which rhymes as well and prevents all unpleasant feelings, or the chance of them. You will see also that other liberties have been taken with his story, which may, after all, perhaps be only supplying omissions; for if poor Hampden was shot, somebody must have shot him, and why not 'Hairy-faced Dick as well as anybody else? The inference is most illogical and, I think, conclusive.

I have this moment sent Bentley a real Kentish legend, or rather the amalgamation of two into one, for his next number, which Mr. Dick has also undertaken to illustrate as before. I should much like to have your opinion of the Miscellany. At present it does not bear out Hook's prophecy; he said the title was ominous-Miss-sell-any;' but, so far from this being the case, Bentley assures me he has sold six thousand of the last number, and that he considers the speculation now as safe. He has just given Charles Mathews five hundred pounds for his father's MSS., to form materials for a life of him, which Hook is to execute, and have five hundred more for the job. The book will be in three vols. with portraits, &c., and, as the editor is heart and soul in the affair, will, I have no doubt, be a most amusing one. Jack Brag is not yet out, but I have seen the proofs of all that is printed of it. It is not so good, certainly as

Gilbert Gurney, but is, nevertheless, full of fun, with some palpable hits in it.

Mrs. Clarke (ci-devant), whom you inquire after, is so far from quitting her Quickly occupation that she may be said to be now a double landlady, inasmuch as her new husband drives a roaring trade in another publichouse, between which and her own she vibrates as a sort of Bacchanalian pendulum. I have not yet seen the Rev. Sydney, though, as his month commences to-day, I presume I soon shall. Perhaps I ought to have called, as he sent me his pamphlet. He did not take in the Bishop [of Llandaff], who hit upon the forgery at first sight. The name of Vorstius alone fixed the chronology and detected the imposition, which, after all, is the funniest I have seen.' I am told the pamphlet has had a great effect upon the Commissioners, and that he will carry h's point as to the patronage. To-morrow night's debate will let us into the secret.

What do you think of my Lord de Roos and Mr. Cumming? I enclose you the following epigram, which is an impromptu of Hook's :

Cease your humming,

The matter's done:
Defendant's Cumming;
Plaintiff's Gone!

By the way, the Duke of Beaufort and Lord Chesterfield are said to have intimated their intention of supporting his Lordship, and the following hit at his Grace is going the round of the clubs. Somebody was saying that the Duke had already left bis card with De Roos. 'Did he mark it?' was asked. 'Of course not,' was the answer. 'O, then,' said Poole, who often says very sharp things, 'it's clear he did not consider it an honour.' I wish Mr. Hughes could be prevailed upon to give Bentley a lift! Has he seen the book? My paper warns me to conclude, but I have just room to tell you that Mr. Tate has taken the living of Hutton, now vacant, and that Hawes has entered a caveat against

Allusion to the story of the Synod of Dort, told by Sydney Smith in his Letter to Archdeacon Singleton on the Church Commission.

him, claiming the presentation himself in his capacity of almoner. I don't think he has a chance of establishing his claim. Believe me to remain, as ever, &c.

R. H. BARHAM.

CCCVII.

Mr. Barham, like his intimate friend, Theodore Hook, pos-
sessed extraordinary facility in writing rhymed letters, birthday
odes, and impromptu verses of all descriptions; but he rarely,
if ever, attempted a pun. Of these funny trifles one of the best
is the following note of invitation.

The Rev. R. H. Barham to Dr. Wilmot, of Ashford.
O Doctor! wilt thou dine with me
And drive on Tuesday morning down?
Can ribs of beef have charms for thee-
The fat, the lean, the luscious brown?
No longer dressed in silken sheen,
Nor deck'd with rings and brooches rare,
Say, wilt thou come in velveteen,

Or corduroys that never tear?

O Doctor! when thou com'st away,
Wilt thou not bid John ride behind,
On
pony, clad in livery gay,

To mark the birds our pointers find?
Let him a flask of darkest green
Replete with cherry brandy bear,
That we may still, our toils between,
That fascinating fluid share!

O Doctor! canst thou aim so true
As we through briars and brambles go,
To reach the partridge brown of hue,
And lay the mounting pheasant low
Or should, by chance, it so befall
Thy path be cross'd by timid hare,
Say, wilt thou for the gamebag call
And place the fur-clad victim there