RICE, the American buffoon, is engaged at the SURREY for six nights, to "jump Jim Crow." It is said, that he will then leave the country. Pray Heaven the news may prove true! He is a disgusting object, and can well be spared.

Mr. PRITCHARD takes his benefit at Sadler's Wells, next Monday week. Among other popular performers, who have volunteered their valuable services, are the names of Mrs. STIRLING, and ANDREW DUCROW, Esq. With such a bill of fare as Mr. P. has put forth, he may depend upon a bumper."

Mrs. WAYLETT has been rusticating among the "Lancashire Witches;" and, if report be true, she has bewitched not a few of the male

natives.

Mrs. HONEY has lost caste in the provinces; her gross immodesty, and disgusting mode of dressing, not being relished in the North of England. We are right glad of this, and hope it will teach her a lesson against her return to town.

The CORPS DE BALLET, of Drury Lane have subscribed to buy a halter; which will be presented to Mr. ALFRED BUNN, in due form, on the closing of the theatre. It is a 'laurel' which he well deserves.

Mr. and Mrs. KEELEY are about to return from America, as are also, several other of our favorite actors and actresses.

The QUEEN'S OWN THEATRE, in Oxford Street, is "progressing right slick ;" and gives evidence that it will be positively opened some time in the present year. WARDE, we believe, is still to have the management. He is recovering, we hear, from the rheumatism in his shoulder!

The VICTORIA has been doing nearly all the "business" on the Surrey side of the water. The Olympic company have enlisted all hearts in their service, and carry on the war' with little opposition.

THEATRICALS AT ST. PETERSBURG.-According to the Foreign journals, the following number of pieces were produced at the St. Petersburg Theatre, between the 28th of April 1836 and the 5th of February, 1837:-one tragedy, five dramas, four comedies, one opera, two ballets, and eleven vaudevilles. M. Koni, it appears, is the most fertile of the Russian dramatic authors. Among the pieces which have been produced, twenty-four were translations from the French, six from the German, one from the English, and one from the Italian.

A SINGULAR GROUP.-On Monday evening last, during the performance of The Glass Door, at the New Strand Theatre, a little old man with a white head-his wife-and, apparently, a maiden aunt, excited no small amusement among the audience. Their delight was so great, that they commenced eating their supper quite at ease; and being in the pit, they were overlooked from every part of the house. The petit souper consisted of bacon, pork, onions, cheese, and a half-quartern loaf; all which were drawn from a large, colored handkerchief, and consumed with an evident relish. The second course consisted of two bottles of liquor,-one containing gin for the ladies,-the other, from its color, being Buxton's Entire. These were despatched con amore; and the cloth, a saffron pocket handkerchief, being cleared away, and their mouths wiped with the same, the party renewed their attention to the other performances of the evening.

GRAVESEND THEATRE.-The inhabitants and visitors of Gravesend will be glad to hear that this place of entertainment has been taken by Messrs. WILLIAMS, WILKINSON, MACARTHY, and others, of the NEW CITY OF LONDON THEATRE. They have already engaged "pretty little Miss SHAW" of the Theatre Royal Adelphi, Mrs. GARRICK, Miss GARRICK, and a number of other favorite performers. TULLY is to be leader of the band. The Theatre will open in about ten days.

Mr.

THEATRICAL TREASON.-Most of the playbills have, annexed to them, the words "Vivant REX ET REGINA !" Informers! what are you about? You are losing a good day's work!

RICHMOND THEATRE.-It is rumored that the fascinating Miss DESBOROUGH is in treaty for this pretty little theatre. If any body can make a property of it, we think she stands more than a fair chance. She shall not lack our support.

As Mr. NORMAN and Miss MEARS (alias Mrs. ANGELL), were strolling, the other evening, in one of their favorite walks, the latter was stung in the heel by an adder. By the prompt and unremitting attention, however, of Mr. N., she gradually recovered, and is now convalescent.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.-Mr. WILSON, a cheesemonger of Regent Street, has just been robbed of a ton weight of "Pinnock's Guide to Knowledge," which was sold by William Glan

A MARRIAGE PORTION.

[The following were described by the late Mr. Samuel Taylor COLERIDGE, as being indispensably necessary articles to begin housekeeping with.]

A riddle slice; a candle box; two ventilators; two glasses for the wash-hand stand; one tin dust-pan; one small tin tea-kettle; one pair of candlesticks; one carpet brush; one flour dredge; three tin extinguishers; two mats; a pair of slippers; a cheese toaster; two large tin spoons; a bible; a keg of porter; coffee; raisins; currants; catsup; nutmegs; allspice; cinnamon; rice; ginger and mace.

NEAR

LINES FOR AN ALBUM.

HERE bits and scraps together mingle,
Various as creation's dyes,
Pictures, pastime-prose, and jingle,

Charm the ears and please the eyes.

Smart witty lines, and love-born ballads,
Neat morceaux sublime and bold;
Attic salts, dramatic salads,-
Turn the pages and behold:

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Though a motley patch-work group;
Form'd to make time pass on slyly,
A sort of Salmagundi soup :

A hotch-potch-olio, rich and pleasing,
Yielding laughter and delight,
Pure mirth and merriment unceasing,
To put the monster, care, to flight.

ADVERTISEMENTS.
AMUSEMENTS OF THE WEEK.

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sinuate that Lady Pink's parties were shabby affairs, and that the Countess of Mumpshire's were downright stupid. "In fact," as she says, "the aristocracy bore one to death." On the eighth, her ladyship condescendingly promises to take tea "very shortly," in Barbican, with her dear friends the Hubbards, whom she has positively lost sight of-how it is she cannot tell, but she has not seen them for almost a twelvemonth. How happy she is once more with the Hubbards! vowing that she feels, for all the world, just as if she were one of them. selves, and protesting that Barbican is ten times livelier than Baker Street!

REVIEW OF BOOKS.

THE MAGAZINES.

A. C.

The Pickwick Papers; No. 15. Chapman & Hall. It is with much sincerity that we congratulate "Boz " on his re-appearance in public; and right glad are we to perceive his straightforward and manly refutation of the gross calumnies that have been so industriously circulated to his prejudice. The present number gives ample evidence that "Richard is himself again," and contains a most interesting as well as distressing picture of the Fleet Prison; in which Sam Weller, Mr. Pickwick, and a few of the inmates, form prominent characters. The subjoined extract refers to Mr. Pickwick's researches in the prison, and also introduces the reader to Mr. Alfred Jingle,- -a very old acquaintance. How truly graphic and characteristic a sketch is the following!

"There were two or three other men in the room, congregated in a little knot, and noisily talking among themselves. There was a lean and haggard woman, too-a prisoner's wife-who was watering with great solicitude, the wretched stump of a dried up, withered plant, which, it was plain to see, could never send forth a green leaf again; too true an emblem, perhaps, of the office she had come there to discharge.

Such were the objects which presented themselves to Mr. Pickwick's view, as he looked round him in amazement. The noise of some one stumbling hastily into the room aroused him. Turning his eyes towards the door, they encountered the new-comer; and in him, through all his rags, and dirt, and misery, he recognised the familiar features of Mr. Job Trotter. "Mr. Pickwick!" exclaimed Job aloud. "Eh?" said Jingle, starting from his seat.

"Mr.

-! So it is-queer place-strange thing -serves me right-very." And with this, Mr. Jingle thrust his hands into the place where his trousers pocket used to be, and, dropping his chin upon his breast, sunk back into his chair.

Mr. Pickwick was affected; the two men looked so very miserable. The sharp, involuntary glance Jingle had cast at a small piece of raw loin of mutton, which Job had brought in with him, said more of their reduced state, than two hours' explanation could have done. He looked mildly at Jingle and said:

"I should like to speak to you in private. Will you step out for an instant?"

"Certainly," said Jingle, rising hastily. "Can't step far-no danger of over-walking yourself here-spike park-grounds pretty-romantic, but not extensiveopen for public inspection-family always in townhousekeeper desperately careful-very."

"You have forgotten your coat," said Mr. Pickwick,

as they walked out to the staircase, and closed the door after them. "Eh?" said Jingle. "Spout-dear relation-uncle Tom-couldn't help it-must eat, you know. Wants of nature, and all that." "What do you mean?"

"Gone, my dear Sir-last coat-can't help it. Lived on a pair of boots-whole fortnight. Silk umbrellaivory handle-week-fact-honor-ask Job-knows it." "Lived for three weeks upon a pair of boots and a silk umbrella with an ivory handle !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had only heard of such things in shipwrecks, or read of them in Constable's Miscellany. "True," said Jingle, nodding his head. "Pawnbroker's shop-duplicates here small sums- mere nothing-all rascals."

"Oh," said Mr. Pickwick, much relieved by this explanation; "I understand you. You have pawned your wardrobe."

"Every thing-Job's too-all shirts gone-never mind -saves washing. Nothing soon-lie in bed-starvedie-Inquest-little bone-house-poor prisoner-common necessaries-hush it up-gentlemen of the Jury-warden's tradesmen-keep it snug-natural death-coroner's order-workhouse funeral-serve him right—all overdrop the curtain."

Jingle delivered this singular summary of his prospects in life with his accustomed volubility, and with various twitches of the countenance to counterfeit smiles. Mr. Pickwick easily perceived that his recklessness was assumed, and looking him full, but not unkindly, in the face, saw that his eyes were moist with tears.

"Good fellow," said Jingle, pressing his hand, and turning his head away. "Ungrateful dog-boyish to cry-can't help it-bad fever-weak-ill-hungry. Deserved it all; but suffered much-very." Wholly unable to keep up appearances any longer, and perhaps rendered worse by the effort he had made, the dejected stroller sat down on the stairs, and, covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a child.

"Come, come," said Mr. Pickwick, with considerable emotion, "we'll see what can be done when I know all about the matter,. Here, Job; where is that fellow?"

"Here, Sir," replied Job, presenting himself on the staircase. We have described him, by-the-bye, as having deeply-sunken eyes in the best of times; in his present state of want and distress, he looked as if those features had gone out of town altogether.

"Here, Sir," said Job.

"Come here, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, trying to look stern, with four large tears running down his waistcoat. "Take that, Sir."

Take what? In the ordinary acceptation of such language, it should have been a blow. As the world runs, it ought to have been a sound, hearty cuff; for Mr. Pickwick had been duped, deceived, and wronged by the destitute outcast who was now wholly in his power. Must we tell the truth? It was some-thing from Mr. Pickwick's waistcoat-pocket which, chinked as it was given into Job's hand: and the giving which, somehow or other imparted a sparkle to the eye, and a swelling to the heart of our excellent old friend, as he hurried away."

criticism. The following interesting morceaux are extracted from the article entitled

FLEET STREET AS IT IS.

"FLEET STREET is little indebted to its component parts for our especial notice; its individual members, meaning thereby its several tenements, interest us but little, -odd assemblage though they be, of various ages and styles. We have a kindness for the new-old church of St. Dunstan; we respect the broad and wealthy mansion of the bankers opposite, wonder unceasingly at the little narrow entrances to the Temple, as symbolical of the law itself the prospect and the difficulties widening in both cases wonderfully as you proceed; and, in addition, we with due pleasure notice here and there little scraps of building, that strike one as smacking of antiquity. But it is no one of these things that attracts us to Fleet Street, and stirs the heart in its cell when we are there. The influence lies in the crowd, the press of men, and, more than this, the crush of conveyances, the mass of the symbols of commerce, the unceasing march and whirl of horse and carriage. If for one moment the voice of wheels is stilled, a tramp as of a battalion of men may be heard rising above every other sound, from the busy plodders on either pavement. But this pause is of rare occurrence.

'buss

The horse traffic first strikes the stranger; follows 'buss, and cabs on cabs arise, much to the annoyance of the regular traders of the city. Coachman, drayman, carter, carrier, truckman, barrowman, tiger, cab, and jarvie, all claim attention, and respectful attention too; for his is no ordinary mind which can successfully charioteer its way through the maze of Fleet Street, without injury to its parent skull we mean, for, as regards others, a panel or a rib stove in, a carriage pole broken, or a man's, counts for nothing against a driver's reputation. These worthies enumerated above, and a various host of others, are momentarily scouring or creeping past us. What a forest of whips! what various upper benjamins! what white hats, and what glazed ditto! what basin-shaped, what cockaded, and what gold laced beavers! Then who is there but must admire the equal footing, or rather riding, of all these parties? A carman from Cripplegate cares not a jot for a lord's carriage, nor the triple row of curls in the wig of its driver. If any favor be shown in matters of precedence, it is to the fat and old-fashioned driver of some long stage from the Bolt-in-Tun. Fully tutored by experience into a sense of his nothingness in this quarter, his lordship's coachman doesn't care how seldom he drives through the Bar.

*

At times, also, among all this town life and bustle, and drawn up on one side in the muddy channel, may be seen some farmer's cart or light waggon; the heads of the cattle decorated with a now fading sprig or flower; the dog vainly barking himself hoarse as a patriot at all the strange sights and sounds,-the whole affair, cart, lading, horses and all, covered with the gathered dust of the journey, and the driver's ears, amidst the uproar, still ringing with the remembrance of the lark's song that had travelled with him mile after mile, early in the morning.

Blessings on thee, many-voiced Fleet Street! for ourselves we have taken the full benefit of thy eternal tintamarre, and listen to thy hurly-burly with gratitude. Who would have chosen this as a scene for love-making? and yet to us it has proved propitious. Have we not connected with it our experiences? do we not remember one lovely inhabitant, and a long-sought-for conversation,-a jealous meddling aunt-a first-floor front-and the divine hubbub proving a convenient shield for halfuttered, and by the aunt unheard explanations? Tell us not of the manifold virtues under such circumstances of Salisbury Plain, of the Falls of Niagara, or a ballroom and Weippert's band-but give us Fleet Street!

We respect this street of streets for more than one reason. It has negative virtues. It is not made up of linen-drapers and jewellers, like the West end, or of chemists and pastry-cooks, like other newly-built neighborhoods. Leaving unnamed its numerous and ingeniously classified booksellers, the shops here have to us the virtues of the poets. We are a forced habitue of town, but a lover of the country. Imagine then our delight in dwelling on all that can remind us of rural solitude or sports and the gay aspect of the young

summer. Near the Bar we have long dwelt with affection upon an outfitting establishment for the angler which is found there, a magazine of wars, stratagems, and spoils against the finny tribes; did we ever pass this shop without being carried back in spirit to some choice spot in English river scenery, where we have passed happy hours, fascinated with the sport and the charms of the surrounding sounds and scenery? The same with the florists lower down in the street, where staid rows of carnations follow in their season similar regiments of early hyacinths,-albeit the flowers emerge most unnaturally from paper frills! But what of this? they are still flowers, and beautiful ones too.

We meet every body in Fleet Street; but who have not lost themselves in vain speculations on whom this every body" may be? We do not know a great man, till we see him in his book, in his place in parliament, behind his fiddle, or, though last not least, seated at the head of his table. The man on his way to buy stock to the tune of fifty thousand pounds is undistinguishable from him who is returning from selling out his last hundred. We say these several and differently situated parties comport themselves alike, and may not be easily distinguished, and we believe so; for a certain nonchalance, and ease of countenance is as common to men moving in society, as a well-timed and unaffected style of dress. Being out at elbows, and out of countenance, are all but synonymous. A man's heart and a man's tailor may both turn bankrupt, but he himself must show no tokens of the failure. Yet men forget themselves in the solitude of the throng; and we are far from thinking, that a shrewd observer may not get at some inkling of the busy thoughts and cares at work, even beneath the most staid-cut waistcoats and trimlybrushed hats passing on either side. That tall big man in a brown frock-coat, and a well-worn hat, carrying a thick hazel walking-stick and taking up so much of the pavement, we know to be a very small annuitant; while, making his quiet way along, between the giant aforesaid and the shop-windows, we observe a comparatively small individual, in black, of modest exterior and nervous look; he it is whose presence and judgment is just now looked for upon 'Change. That young man who has run over the child on the other side of the way is a young tradesman, posting to take up a bill in Lombard Street He is happy enough now; but the scrap of paper which he is going to redeem has cost him many a weary day and night. He thinks, poor fellow, he will never give another! Mark too this gay equipage, and the two young and beautiful women within it, one evidently not long married. Some costly purchase is on the tapis; while unobserved and unobserving passes on the other side her grey-headed husband, on his road, when too late, to face his overwhelming difficulties. We tremble lest her bright eye catch his no-he is past; that trial is spared him; and a few more days as of old may yet be hers. see, too, that pale and abstracted woman is hurrying westward, a dark shawl as for concealment thrown loosely over a dress much too light and gaudy for the scene; blame her not for inappropriate costume ; distress has come upon her suddenly; and see, a child is with her, for protection, or she would not this once take her boy to fret the fond father in his confinement; a lock-up house in Chancery Lane is her destination. * It once happened to us to pass down Fleet Street on a Sunday forenoon. We shall not enter upon our feelings on that occasion. It was a different spot. There existed no tokens of connexion between the present and what had been, any more than there remains affinity between a dust-hole and a blazing hearth. Life, soul, fire, is extinct in both cases. *

And

A few old citizens, with large families, and ditto baskets, were hurrying and steaming towards the riverside, on a presumed visit to Gravesend; then came, prematurely rising and falling in his saddle, an unhappy-looking equestrian bound for the western road; a pair-horse coach, loaded with cockneys and their dinners, was laboring in the same direction; Sunday paper offices were going to shut up every moment, and still kept sending forth their quires of news and choirs of vocal news-venders; young ladies were going to St. Bride's in new bonnets, and young gentlemen were going with them in new blue gloves; a few tipsy men were being turned out of the public houses, and were expressing an energetic determination to keep it up all