the reception it would meet with on the stage, if acted. The denouement may easily be anticipated; Mr. Shepherd, instead of being continued as curate, gets the rectory of Gladford; and Lord Orwell and Sir William Rightly having walked down to the butcher's, there conclude the play thus:

[Lord Orwell and Sir William alternately shake hands with Mrs. Shepherd and Mrs. Goodman; Mr. Shepherd and Goodman then take each other cordially by the hand, in the centre, while Lord Orwell takes Goodman's hand and Mrs. Goodman's! Sir William takes Mrs. Shepherd's and Ruth's ; Mrs. Goodman takes Muggins', and Muggins George's; Ruth takes Crusty's, and Crusty his wife's. The curtain drops.]

As we have already said, the great charm of these pieces is the perfect representation which they give of real life. The intimate knowledge of human nature, and of society, which shines throughout all of them: and above all, that consummate skill which, while it affords the richest dramatic treat, conveys the purest moral lesson.

It certainly is not for us to prescribe to Mr. Elliston; but we do think, that if the play, whence we have made the above extracts, were acted at Drury Lane, the effect produced would be extraordinary. To Mr. Plumptree we return our thanks for his volume, which having read with admiration, we lay down with infinite satisfaction; and if every author were to pursue his plan and publish the piece, which managers have refused, it would very soon put an end to all doubts as to the cabals and intrigues which agitate, divide, and govern theatrical cabinets.

THE LORD MAYOR'S VISIT TO OXFORD.

WRITTEN AT THE DESIRE OF THE PARTY, BY THE CHAPLAIN OF THE MAYORALTY.-1826.*

[JOHN BULL.-1827.]

To those who are in the habit of recurring with a feeling of devotion to the golden gone-by times of our forefathers, and who "track back" upon antiquity to hunt out subjects for admiration, it must be in some degree consolatory to discover, that even in these degenerate days there still exist amongst us, men capable of recording the noble deeds of the “ mighty living;" and that one of the most important occurrences of modern date has found an historian worthy of the subject which it has been made his duty to transmit to posterity.

To such of our readers as are conversant with the history of the City of London, it may perhaps be needless to observe, that it affords, by virtue of its charter and constitution, power and authority, might and majesty, for one year at a time, to one illustrious individual (made, indeed, illustrious by his office), and that this illustrious individual is pre-eminently distinguished above all others of God's creatures by the

*This work, written by the late Dr. Dillon, a once popular preacher, is now extremely scarce, most of the copies having been bought up.

title of Lord Mayor. Having been a liveryman, he proceeds to sheriff and alderman, and in time, being an alderman, he becomes mayor, and, being mayor of London, becomes a lord!-that he is not a peer, arises only from the difficulty of finding any to compare with him.

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Thus, then, it being conceded that there is, and always will be, a Lord Mayor of London so long as London stands for the constitution of Cornhill and the majesty of the Mansion House remain unshaken by the storms of treason, and shine with equal brightness, whether under the gentle sway of an amiable Mary, the gloomy troubles of a martyred Charles, the plain dominion of a protecting Oliver, or the glorious sway of a liberating Williamit being then, we say, conceded that the Lord Mayor, officially, never dies, we seek to shew the imperative necessity which presses upon every Lord Mayor while in office, personally so to distinguish himself from the long line of his predecessors, and those who are to follow him, by some striking deed, either bodily or mental, political or financial, literary or scientific, so that when he shall have returned from the pinnacle of all earthly splendour at the corner of Walbrook into the softer retirement of his patrimonial shop in Pudding Lane or Fish Street Hill, children yet unborn may learn to lisp the name of their great ancestor mingled with their prayers, never forgetting to singularize him especially from all the other Figginses, Wigginses, Bumpuses, and Snodgrasses of their respective houses, by prefixing in their minds to the patronymic, the deed, or work, or act, or book, as it

may be, by which that particular branch of their family has so flourished into virid immortality.

By observing this system, an association is formed in the mind of men and deeds highly refreshing, at once useful and agreeable. Who ever hears of Walworth without thinking of Wat Tyler?-who ever reads of Whittington without having a cat in his eye? -who speaks of Wood without thinking of Whittington?-who of Waithman without recollecting Knightsbridge footpath? Thus it is that these illustrious men are distinguished, not only from all other Lord Mayors, but from all other Whittingtons, Walworths, Woods, and Waithmans, in the world.

With such examples before him, was it unnatural, or not to be expected, that the late Lord Mayor, Venables, should be contented to sink back into the shades of Queenhithe from the civic throne, without leaving something behind him which might entitle him to fill a niche in the temple of Fame? We think not; and we have no hesitation in saying that his lordship's well-directed ambition, blending as it has done the eminently-useful with the strikingly-agreeable, has produced results which will hand him down. to future ages with as much grace, certainty, and propriety, as his lordship ever exhibited in his late great life-time in handing down an alderman's lady to dinner.

When we say "late life-time," we mean official life -Venables, the man, is alive and merry-but, alas! Venables the Mayor, is dead.

It now becomes our duty to explain what it is that has so decidedly stamped the greatness of Lord Wen

ables-so he was called by the majority of his subjects,—and, in doing so, we have to divide (although not in equal parts) the fame and glory of the enterprise between his lordship and his lordship's chaplain, who, upon this special occasion, and at his lordship's special desire, was the historian of his lordship's exploits.

It seems that in the course of last summer the Lord Wenables having over-eaten himself, brought upon himself a fever and rash, and during his confinement to the house the disorder took an ambitious turn, and his lordship's organ of locomotiveness having been considerably enlarged and inflamed by his lordship having accidentally bumped his noble head against the corner of the bedstead, his lordship was seized with a desire to glorify and immortalize himself by foreign travel the moment he got better of his green-fat fever,—and, having sent for his chaplain, to consult upon some sort of expedition which might answer his purpose, his lordship and the divine deliberated accordingly.

At one time he suggested going down the shaft of Brunel's tunnel at Rotherhithe, but the work was not far enough advanced to render it even commonly hazardous-that was abandoned. Going up in a balloon was suggested, but there was no utility blended with the risk. The dreadful dangers of Chelsea Reach had already been encountered, and a colony established by his lordship on the east end of Stephenson's Island, beyond Teddington,-something even more daring must be tried; and, as it happened that a first cousin of my Lady Wenables had been reading to his lordship, who was not able to read himself