day or other go to England, and, should the transaction of your playing for more money than you possessed become known among Englishmen, it might give you a character which I know you do not deserve; it must be settled directly." She instantly produced the money, and made me go and discharge the obligation. Such an act of well-timed disinterested friendship was noble, and never has been forgotten by me.'

Soon after this his affairs of gallantry led him into some scrapes, through which it is not our intention to follow him. He seems to have spent a very active and pleasant time of it at Vienna, and at length he determined, under the patronage of Storace, to try his fortune in England. Among the earliest of his acquaintances here were two individuals of a spirit not altogether uncongenial to his own, the famous Father O'Leary, and the equally famous Curran. Michael, it seems, had them often to dine with him on a corned shoulder of mutton,' a dish of which they seem to have been particularly enamoured. The following bon mot of the reverend Father is excellent:

'One day, after dinner, Curran said to him," Reverend Father, I wish you were Saint Peter."

"And why, Counsellor, would you wish that I were Saint Peter ?" asked O'Leary.

"Because, reverend Father, in that case," said Curran, 'you would have the keys of heaven, and you could let me in."

"By my honour and conscience, Counsellor," replied the divine," it would be better for you that I had the keys of the other place, for then I could let you out."

Curran enjoyed the joke, which he admitted had a good deal of justice in it.'

Mr. Kelly mentions with the greatest possible nonchalance the commencement and progress of his connection with Mrs. Crouch, as if it had been a matter of ordinary occurrence, which required no sort of apology or palliation. He speaks of his domestic arrangements with that lady, as if they were actually husband and wife, whereas she left her husband and preferred the society of his friend. But it is not necessary at this day to investigate this matter too minutely. All the world, we suppose, pretty well understands how it was; at least our author seems to think so, and he, moreover, seems to have acted, as well as written under the belief, that the gentlemen and ladies of the stage are governed by rules of morality peculiar to themselves. We must say, however, that it would give us great pain to see those rules extended beyond the Green-room. The persons who frequent that atmosphere

seem

seem in some measure entitled to be the regulators of their own conduct, since, by general consent, they are for the most part removed from the virtuous circles of society. Of course this observation must be taken with some eminent exceptions: we have only to regret that these are rather declining than increasing in their number.

The second volume, which wholly relates to the author's theatrical career in England, is full of anecdotes of performers, authors, and all sorts of eccentric persons, which are told in a native style of humour that is quite irresistible. We have been rather disappointed at finding so few of these connected with the name of Sheridan, as we were led to form sanguine expectations on this head, not only from Mr. Kelly's long service at Drury-Lane theatre, but from the manner in which his work was announced. Indeed, his publisher seems to have put forth his most dexterous powers of puffing preparatory to the publication of these Reminiscences,' and, as in all cases of extraordinary promise, the result has been rather injurious than beneficial to the author. There are, however, one or two incidents which Mr. Kelly witnessed himself, and which are so characteristic of Sheridan, that had Mr. Moore been acquainted with them, he would have gladly given them a place in his Memoirs.

6

Every body knows, that during the short administration of Mr. Fox's party, Mr. Sheridan held the office of Treasurer of the Navy, to which office, as every body also knows, a handsome residence is attached. It was during his brief authority in this situation, that he gave a splendid fête, to which not only the Ministers and a long list of nobility were invited, but which, it was understood, His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, his present most gracious Majesty, would honour with his presence: a ball and supper followed the dinner. Morelli, Rovedino, and the Opera company, appeared in masks, and sang complimentary verses to the Prince, which Pananti wrote, and I composed. The music in "Macbeth" was then performed; and, in short, nothing could surpass the gaiety and splendour of the entertainment, which went off as well as was anticipated.

But, previous to the great consummation of all the hopes and wishes of the donor, I happened to call at Somerset-House, about half past five; and there I found the brilliant, highly-gifted Sheridan, the star of his party, and Treasurer of the Navy, in an agony of despair. What was the cause? had any accident occurred? bad news from the Continent? was the Ministry tottering? In short, what was it that agitated so deeply a man of Sheridan's nerve and intellect, and temporary official importance? He had just discovered that there was not a bit of cheese not even a paring. What was to be done? Sun

in the house

-

day,

day, all the shops shut - without cheese, his dinner would be incomplete.

6

'I told him I thought some of the Italians would be prevailed upon to open their doors and supply him; and off we went together in a hackney-coach, cheese-hunting, at six o'clock on a Sunday afternoon -the dinner-hour being seven, and His Royal Highness the Prince expected.

-

After a severe run of more than an hour, we prevailed upon a sinner, in Jermyn-Street, to sell us some of the indispensable article, and got back just in time for mine host to dress to receive his company. I forget now who paid for the cheese.'

The second scene is still better:

'We were one day in earnest conversation close to the gate of the path, which was then open to the public, leading across the church-yard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, from King-Street to Henrietta-Street, when Mr. Holloway, who was a creditor of Sheridan's to a considerable amount, came up to us on horseback, and accosted Sheridan in a tone of something more like anger than sorrow, and complained that he never could get admittance when he called, vowing vengeance against the infernal Swiss Monsieur François, if he did not let him in the next time he went to Hertford-Street.

Holloway was really in a passion. Sheridan knew that he was vain of his judgment in horse-flesh, and without taking any notice of the violence of his manner, burst into an exclamation upon the beauty of the horse which he rode : - he struck the right chord.

6.66

Why," said Holloway, "I think I may say, there never was a prettier creature than this. You were speaking to me, when I last saw you, about a horse for Mrs. Sheridan; now this would be a treasure for a lady."

"Does he canter well ?" said Sheridan.
"Beautifully," replied Holloway.

"If that's the case, Holloway," said Sheridan, "I really should not mind stretching a point for him. Will you have the kindness to let me see his paces ?"

"To be sure," said the lawyer; and putting himself into a graceful attitude, he threw his nag into a canter along the market.

The moment his back was turned, Sheridan wished me good morning, and went off through the church-yard, where no horse could follow, into Bedford-Street, laughing immoderately, as indeed did several standers-by. The only person not entertained by this practical joke was Mr. Holloway himself.'

Our author takes it upon himself stoutly to deny, that Mr.. Sheridan was much distressed in his pecuniary affairs near the close of his life. In truth, Michael seems to have known very little of the matter, and to have been more anxious about repelling the imputation of indifference on that occasion, which was made against his royal patron, than to ascertain

the

the real state of the case. Mr. Moore has placed this passage in poor Sheridan's life in its real light, and has drawn from it a most salutary warning for the benefit of those "who put their trust in princes."

One word to our friend at parting. Michael O'Kelly, you are really a very amusing sort of person," a fellow of infinite jest;" and there are very many pages in your Reminiscences' which would disturb the composure even of a Quaker. But, Michael, have you not invented somewhat? when facts failed you, have you not borrowed the wings of poetry, and raised yourself beyond the sphere of reality? Nobody can tell a story, or cook a dinner, better than you. Your corned mutton is a most luxurious dish, and your punch incomparable. But have you ever read Sterne's description of Corporal Trim?"The fellow loved to advise, or rather to hear himself talk; his carriage, however, was so perfectly respectful, 'twas easy to keep him silent when you had him so; but set his tongue a-going, you had no hold of him ;he was voluble; the eternal interlardings of Your Honour, with the respectfulness of Corporal Trim's manner, interceding so strong in behalf of his elocution, that though you might have been incommoded, you could not well be angry. Such was Corporal Trim." Such is Michael O'Kelly.

ART. II. Antediluvian Phytology, illustrated by a Collection of the Fossil-Remains of Plants peculiar to the Coal-Formations of Great Britain. By Edmund Tyrell Artis, F. S. A. F. G. S. 4to. Printed for the Author. London. 1825.

THE fossil-remains of vegetables are widely dispersed through many of the secondary strata of sand-stone and bituminous shale in various parts of the world, and no where more abundantly than in the strata of the coal-formation of England and Wales. The study of these vegetable remains has hitherto been little attended to, because they present few circumstances that interest the geologist, beyond certain general facts and conclusions, and these once ascertained, he consigns to the botanist the task of discovering new genera or species, and noticing the corresponding genera of plants that may exist at present. It is very different with the fossilremains of the animal kingdom: some of these make known to us the existence of creatures of appalling magnitude, whose structure and modes of life were in many respects different from those of any of the present tenants of the globe: in other instances we may trace a succession of living beings, that have existed in past ages of the world, varying in form,

and

and presenting a gradation from the most simple to the most complex organization. Such facts as these, accompanied with a circumstance not less remarkable, the entire absence of the fossil-remains of man in any of the regular strata, cannot fail to excite in a powerful degree the curiosity and interest of the public; whereas the discovery of a class of plants in which the minute parts of fructification differed entirely from those on which the modern botanical systems are formed, would not be regarded with particular attention by any but professed systematic botanists. It happens also, unfortunately for the study of fossil-phytology, that the parts of the plant are generally broken and widely separated, and the organs of fructification are so delicate, that their forms have in almost all instances been obliterated. This difficulty is well described in the preface to the present volume.

The imperfect state in which fossil-plants are found, in consequence of the catastrophe of which they have been the victims, is such, that the ordinary characters by which recent plants are referred to their congeners, can scarcely ever, or indeed it might be more justly said can never be detected in them. The sexual organs on which the systems of Linnæus, Jussieu, and all modern authors are founded, and also the integuments of the organs just mentioned, while in the state of flowering, have uniformly disappeared; the external parts of the seed or fruit are indeed found in the fossil-state, but they are entirely insulated from their other organs. Are leaves found, then it is almost certain that scarcely any fragment of the stem is preserved attached to them. If the external parts of a stem are found, they are more frequently bare and devoid of leaves. Can traces of the internal organization be discovered, then the external character of the stem is rarely to be traced. In consequence of this great deficiency of the characters on which the determinations of the botanist are founded, there exists a necessity for going further than has yet been done, into the structure of recent plants: their habits of growth, the cicatrices left in the stem by the leaves that spontaneously fall off, the different appearances which their fruits exhibit in the progress of their growth, must be minutely studied, before any certainty can be obtained respecting the identity of the fossil and recent plants.'

The most valuable part of fossil-phytology is not, we conceive, that which attempts merely to class the remains of fossil-vegetables with existing species, but that which discovers their modes of existence as aquatic or terrestrial plants, and the soil and situation in which they have flourished. The remains of terrestrial plants indicate, that when the strata containing them were deposited, part of the surface of the earth had emerged from the deep, and that dry land existed in the vicinity. In some instances we have good reason to

believe