GILBERT GURNEY

Is not entirely new to the public ; a portion of it—we cannot tell how much—having already appeared in the New Monthly Maga- zine. It is known to be the production of Mr. THEODORE Hoots, —a fact which, at any rate, would have been'sufficiently apparent from internal evidence to those who have read the former works of this eccentric writer. Mr. Hoox cannot write a tale, in the proper sense of the word. He cannot invent and put together a succession of probable and interesting incidents ; and he fails egregiously when he attempts to be striking, impressive, or pa- thetic. But he is a dead shot "at folly as is Hies '• " and his cari- catures of the absurdities of life—particularly London life—are In Gilbert Gurney, we have his forte without his foible,—just as much narrative as serves for a slight but pleasant setting to a series of sketches, drawn in his happiest manner; strongly e.ari- catured, but taken from the life, and exquisitely ludicrous and amusing. The hero is a young man "upon the town, who mixes in all sorts of society ; and his intercourse with odd characters and concern in whimsical adventures, is the link which binds together the varied scenes and descriptions which snake up the "farrago hujus libelli." The best way to give an idea of such a book, is. to extract pretty copiously from it; and, in doing so, we shall hardly fail to give our readers considerable entertainment.

Gilbert Gurney begins his career as a law student in Lincoln'a Inn ; and gets stage-struck. He writes a farce; and happens to take lodgings in Suffolk Street, Haymarket.

I had been settled in my apartments a few days only, when I perceived from my windows during the morning, a constant passing and repassing of pretty- looking women, with a certain perking, jerking pace, gaily drest, particularly smart about the feet and ankles, with parasols over their heads, and little rolls of paper in their hands ; and men with their hats on one side, and frills, and chains, and frogged coats with fur collars, although it was May : and I heard them hum songs and quaver out cantabiles as they swaggered down the street and up the street. I thought I could not be mistaken in their vocation, and thrust my head out of the window to watch where they went, for the street was a cal de sac ; and the only place to which I fancied they could resort was a sort of tavern, which I one day explored, in the right-hand corner. To my surprise, I saw them all enter a house exactly opposite that tavern ; then I IlaVI a smart chariot drive up and stop at the same place; then I saw come out of it two well-known London performers. I was delighted : I was in the middle of Attica—in the region of Thespis. I rang the bell, and inquired of the rosy- checked maid of the house what place " that was?" pointing to the spot whence the stars disappeared from my sight. " La! Sir," said the girl, "don't you know? that's the stage-door of the Little Thatre."

What charm had Lincoln's Inn for me after I made this dicovery? Here, in the plenitude of my devotion to the drama, could I see all the wit and beauty of the stage and the age in constant motion ; here could I hear them talk 311 44 common parlance ; ' and here I resolved I would renew or rather improve Thy acquaintance with the agreeable Mathews, and endeavour by his means to procure the representation of my farce, and the consequent entree of the coulisses.

His farce is submitted to Mr. Colman, and, after an awful sus- pense, approved ; and a day is fixed for a green-room reading.

'The Friday came ; and for the first time in my life I found myself in the green-room of a theatre; it was literally a green-room, into which light was admitted by a thing like a cucumber-frame at one end of it. It was matted, and round the walls ran a bench covered with faded green stuff, whereupon the dramatis personm deposited themselves until called to go on the stage : a looking-glass under the skylight, and a large bottle of water and a tumbler on the chimney-piece, completed the furniture of this classic apartment. Upon the special occasion of reading my farce, a table, with pens, ink, and paper, was introduced, and deposited in one corner of the room under the cucumber-frame, and at which the reader was to preside. The actors and actiesses began to assemble. I was introduced to such of them as were con- cerned in the performance of my hopeful work and, having declined to undertake the reading myself, the manager proceeded to execute that task. A dead silence prevailed, as he delivered, in a hurried, monotonous tone, all the pointed and witty dialogues of the first scene, upon which I had spent so much time, and to which I had devoted so much attention. Not a smile did I see ' - Liston, from whom I had expected all the compliments of excessive laughter at the jokes introduced into his part, sat still and mute, the very picture of gravity, until the reader came to a bit which I had intended to be marvellously comic, when he made a face of so grotesque a character of extreme disapprobation, that Mrs. Gibbs burst into a loud fit of merriment, which was only moderated by a sort of admonitory look from Mathews, who bad the best part in the piece, to spare the feelings of the young author. For nearly an hour and a quarter did I endure this purgatorial process ; and I must admit, that during that period my feelings of self-complacency had , undergone a very important change. Just as I anticipated a positive cheer, at a denouement which I was quite sure must be unexpected, I looked round, and saw Mrs. Davenport, the mainstay of my plot, fast asleep, with her head in a corner ' • and the aforesaid Liston, mother of my props, tickling her nose with the end of her parasol. It then occurred to me, that It would have been better that I should not have been present, inasmuch as in my absence, those ladies and gentlemen, who, regardless of my agonies and sensitiveness, thus practically exhibited their perfect indifference to my " work," might have expressed their opinions in cabinet ; and while they disapproved some portion of the performance, might have suggested improvements in others. When the reading was over, nobody said "capital," or even "good," or even " tolerable." One of the gentlemen asked "When is this thing to be put in rehearsal ? " g Teamorrow," was the reply, " and it must be out to-morrow week." " To-morrow week !" said one ; " how am I to study this infernal part, nine lengths and a half, by to-morrow week, besides all the stock-business ? " " /think," said Mrs. .Davenport, " that /should be better out of the farce than in it. Mrs. Kendall, or Mrs. Wall, would do just as well for all there is to do."

" Anybody would do as well as me," whispered Liston ; and then Mrs. Gibbs made her joyous, handsome face, look hideous in my eyes for the moment, by giving a sign of perfect acquiescence in Mr. Liston's opinion.

At last comes the dread night of performance,—some of the "stars," however, having refused to shine on this occasion.

After the opera of Inhle and Yarico came my drama. I WWI placed in the manager's box, allotted the seat of honour behind the treillage, favoured by the presence of two of the handsornest and most agreeable ladies in London, and treated in the kindest possible manner. Overture over—curtain up—I listened to my own words fearfully and tremblingly; not that I heard quite so many of them as I had confidently expected, seeing that most of the low comedians sub- stituted, for what they had not learned, speeches and dialogues not one word of which I had written ; indeed, during the greater part of the dialogues, act, the voice -of the prompter was more generally audible than those of the actors. Still, however, we went on smoothly, but not with that spirit which I had antici- pated; and when the curtain fell at the close of the first act, the audience gave _no signs of approbation or dissent ; and the only sound which I heard in any .degree indicative of popular opinion, was the loud twanging of an elderly gentle- man's nose, who was fast asleep, with his head reclined against the partition of the box in which we sat.

The second act began ; and in the middle of the second scene of it several parties removed themselves from the lower boxes, evidently tired with what was going on. Would that the gods in the galleries had been equally well- 'bred! their patience, however, was not proof against my drollery; one point of which, a cant phrase by my hero, Sir Jeffery Boot-top, of" How d'ye know— don't you think so?" appeared, after innumerable repetitions, to make the first -seat in the pit angry; they began to groan, and then to answer Sir Jeffery's questions, with shouts of " No, no, no !" these, by a natural transition, were converted into cries of " Off, off, off!" and at a quarter after eleven o'clock, the green curtain of the Theatre Royal Haymarket descended upon my con- • demned farce, and concluded my career as a dramatic writer.

Gurney, at a convivial party, falls in with Mr. Sheriff Buckles- bury, a worthy functionary of the City of London ; who takes a fancy to him, and asks hint to dinner next day at the Old Bailey, .at the conclusion of the Sessions.

As I entered the Court, a case of some importance had just terminated, and the Judge just concluded his summing up; when the Clerk of the Arraigns put the customary question to the Jury, 4, how say ye, gentlemen, is the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?" Upon which the Jurymen laid their heads together, and I heard something in a whisper from their Foreman, who imme- diately pronounced the agreeable verdict " not guilty." The prisoner bowed gracefully—he was a pickpocket—and retired. The prompt decision of the Jury convinced me that it must have been a clear case; and I rejoiced at the departure of the now exonerated sufferer.

" That's a reglar rascal," said the Sheriff to me in a whisper ; "never was such a case heard on, to be sure ; seventeen watches, thirty-two pocket- handkerchiefs, fuur pair of spectacles, and five snuff-boxes, all found upon his person! "

" Yet," said I, "the evidence could not have been very strong against him ; the Jury acquitted him after a minute's consultation." " Evidence ! Mr. Gurney," said the Sheriff ; " how little do you know of the Old Bailey ! Why, if these London Juries were to wait to consider evidence, we never should get through the business : the way we do here is t3 make a zigzag of it." I did not exactly comprehend the term as it was now applied, although Daly had often used it in my society with reference to a pin and a card universally employed at the interesting game of rouge et noir ; and I therefore made no scruple of expressing my ignorance. "Don't you understand, Sir?" said the Sheriff, " why the next prisoner will be found guilty—the last was acquitted; the one after the nest will be ac- quitted too—it conies alternate like ; save half, convict half—that's what we call a zigzag ; and taking the haggregate, it comes to the same pint, and I think

justice is done as fair here as in any court in Christendom." This explanation rendered the next prisoner who made his appearance ar,

object of considerable interest to me. He was a dirty little bey, who steed charged with having stolen a pound of bacon and a peg-top from a boy some,

what his junior. The young prosecutor produced a witness, who, as far as ap. pearances went, might without any great injustice have taken the place of the prisoner, and who gave his evidence with considerable fluency and flippancy, His manner attracted the notice of one of the leading barristers of the court, Mr. Flappertrap ; who, in cross-examining him, inquired whether he knew the nature of an oath.

" Yes I does," said the boy. " Explain it," said Flappertrap.

" You may be d--d, replied the lad ; " that's a 'loath, arn't it?" " What does he say," said the Judge ; who, as I about this period discovered,

was as deaf as a post. " He says, you may be d—d,' my Lord," said Flappertrap ; who ap- peared particularly glad of an opportunity to borrow a phrase which he noigat

use for the occasion.

" What does be mean by that 2" said the Judge.

" That is the way, ray Lord; in which he exhibits his knowhalae of the am- ture of an oath."

" Pith, pah !" said the Judge : " Boy, d'ye hear me ? "

" Yes," said the boy, " I hears."

" Have you ever been to school ? " " Yes," said the boy, " in St. Giles's parish, for three years." " Do you know your Catechism ? " The boy muttered something which was not audible to the court generally, and was utterly lost upon the Judge personally.

" What does he :my?" said his Lordship.

" Speak up, Sir," said Mr. Flappertrap. The boy muttered again, looking down, and seeming embarrassed.

" Speak louder, Sir," said another barrister, whose name I did not know,

but who was remarkable for a most unequivocal obliquity of vision ; " sped; to his Lordship; look at him—look as /do, Sir."

" I can't," said the boy, " you squints." A laugh followed this bit of nearete ; which greatly abashed the counsellor,

and somewhat puzzled the Judge. " What does he say ? " said his Lordship. " He says he knows his Catechism, my Lord." " Oh, does not know his Catechism ; why then what—"

" Does know, my Lord," whispered the Lord Mayor, who was in the chair.

" Oh—ah—does know—I know—here, boy," said his Lordship, " you hay your Catechism, do ? "

" Yes," replied lie, sullenly. " We'll see, then. What is your name? " said his Lordship. " My name?" said the intelligent lad, " what, in the Catechism?" " Yes, what is your name "

" M. or N. as the came may be," said the boy.

" Go down, go down," said the Judge angrily ; and down he went. " Gentlemen of the Jury," said his Lordship, " this case will require ver; little of your attention : the only evidence against the prisoner at the bar which goes to fasten the crime upon him, is that which has been offered by the laa witness, who evidently is ignorant of the nature and obligation of an oath. With respect to the pig's toes which the prisoner stands charged with steaa ing—n " A peg-top, my Lord !" said Flappertrap, standing up, turning round, and speaking over the bench into the Judge's ears. " Peg-top," said his Lordship ; " oh—ah—I see—very bad pen : it looks in my notes like pig's toes. Well—peg-top—of the peg-top which it is alleged he took from the prosecutor, there has not been one syllable mentioned by the prosecutor himself ; nor do I see that the charge of taking the bacon is by any means proved. There is no point for me to direct your attention to ; and yea will say whether the prisoner at the bar is guilty or not. And a very trumpery case it is altogether, that I must admit."

His Lordship ceased, and the Jury again laid their Leads together ; agna the Foreman gave the little " hem" of conscious readiness for decision ; again did the Clerk of the Arraigns ask the important question, " How say ye, gen- tlemen, is the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty ?" " Guilty, said the Foreman to the Clerk of the Arraigns ; and " I told you so," said the Sherd to nie.

At Brighton the hero falls in with Mr. Alderman Firkins, a worthy citizen, who had been Lord Mayor of London. After a tae-d-ate dinner, the honest Alderman gets frank and confiden- tial, and gives a sketch of his history. He has risen by degrees to the highest civic honour of our commercial metropolis, the great object of an ambition as fervent as that of CESAR or NAPO- LEON, and considerably more respectable. It is too much, how- ever, for the heads of the good citizen and his family. He be- comes Lord Mayor elect— From that moment, Sir, it appeared to me that time flew no more; every day until the eighth of November seemed to me as long as a week. I existed in a state of perpetual nervousness, lest something—what, I could not even sur- mise—should happen to prevent the consummation of all my earthly hopes. At last the moment came in which it did seem certain that I should be Lord Mayor of London. Sir, I was sworn in—the civic insignia were delivered to me—I returned them to the proper officers—my chaplain was near me—the esquires of my household were behind me—the thing was done. Never shall I forget the tingling sensation in my ears, when I was first called My Lord. I eyed doubted if it were addressed to me, and hesitated to answer ; but it was so. The reign ofsplendour had begun ; and, after going through the usual ceremo- nies, and eating the accustomed dinner, I got home and retired to bed as early as possible, in order to be fresh for the delightful fatigues of the ensuing day.

• • • • •

" When I was finally dressed, I tapped at Mrs. Firkins's door, went in, and asked her if she thought I should do. The dear soul, after settling my point lace frill (which she had been good enough to pick off her own shrievalty petticoat on purpose), and mating my bag straight, gave me the sweetest salute imagin- able, at the same tune saying, I wish your Lordship health and happiness. " 'Sally,' said your Ladyship is an angel.' On the landing-place were my dear daughters, all in different stages of dressing for the procession. I kissed them all in turn, and descended the stairs, to begin the auspicious day on which I reached the apex of my greatness. I never shall forget the bows, the civili- ties, the congratulations, with which I was received as I entered upon the scene of action. The Sheriffs bending before me, the Recorder smiling, the Common Sergeant at my feet : the pageant was very delightful. And then, when all the necessary prelimnuaries had been performed, I stepped into that glazed and gilded house upon wheels, called the state coach, and saw my sword-bearer pop him- self into one of the boots, with the sword of my state in his hands, I was lost in ecstasy. I threw myself back upon the seat of the vehicle, with all possibld dignity, but not without damage; for, in may efforts at ease and elegance, snapped off the cut steel hilt of my own rapier, by accidentally bumping the whole weight of my body right, or rather wrong, directly upon the top of it. 44 But, Sir," continued Firkins, "what was a sword-hilt and a bruise to me? pride knows no pain—I felt none—I was the Lord Mayor, the greatest man in the greatest city of the greatest nation in the world. The people realized my expectation ; and Bravo, Firkins !' and Firkins for ever !' resounded again and again, as we proceeded slowly and majestically towards the River, through a fog which prevented our being advantageously seen, and which got down the throat of Mr. Sword, who was a little troubled with asthma, and who coughed incessantly (luring our progress, moch to my annoyance, not to speak of the ungraceful movements which his convulsive barkings gave to the red velvet scabbard of the honourable glaive, as it stuck out of the coach win-

dow. • •

" At length we reached Guildhall. As I crossed that beautiful building, lighted brilliantly, and filled with splendidly-dressed :company, and heard the deafening shouts which pealed through its roof as I enterA it, I felt a good deal flurried. I retired to a private room, adjusted my dress, shook out my frill, robbed up my chain and collar, and prepared to receive my guests. They came ; and shall I ever forget it ? Dinner was announced ; the bands player' Oh, the roast beef of Old England ;' onwards we went ; a Prince of the Blood— of the Blood Royal of my own country—led out Sally, my own Sally, the holy Mayoress ; the Lord Chancellor handed out young Sally—I ,aw it done—I thought I should have fainted ; the Prime Minister took Maria ; the Lord Privy Seal gave his arm to Jenny ; and Mrs. Sob, my wile's toothier—a won- derful woman at her age, bating her corpulency. Mr. Garney—was escotted to table by the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Jastice of the King's Bench, in his full robes and collar of SS. Oh, if my poor father could but have seen that!

"At the ball, my eldest girl danced with the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and found him very chatty, though a hit of a swell Maria danced with the Lord Privy Seal ; and my youngest with a very handsome man, who wore a riband and star, but who he was we none of us could ever find out : no matter—never did I see such a day, although it was,but the first of three hun- dred and sixty-five splendid visions. " It would take till twelve o'clock at night, Mr. Gurney," said Firkins, " to expatiate in detail upon all the pleasures of this happy year, thua auspiciously begun. Each month brought its fresh pleasures; each week its new amusements; each day its festival. Public meetings, under the sanction of the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor ; concerts and balls, under the patronage of the Lady Alayoress. Then came Easter and its dinner, Blue-Coat Boys and buns; then to St. Paul's me Sunday, and to some other church another Sunday. And then came sum- mer; and then there was swan-hopping up the river, and white-baiting down the river ; Crown and Sceptre below, navigation barge above; music, flags, streamers, guns, and company. Turtle every day in the week ; peas a pound per pint, and grapes a guinea a pound ; not to speak of dabbling in rose-water, served in gold, nor the lovinecup, nor the esquires of my household, all in full dress at my elbow. " The days which before had seemed weeks, were now turned to minutes; serrcely had I swallowed my breakfast, when I was in the juatice.room ; and before I had mittimused half-a- dozen paupers fir begging about the streets, luncheon was ready; this hardly over, inr comes a despatch or a deputation ; anti so on, till dinner, which was barely ended before supper was announced. We all became delighted with the Manaionhouse. My girls grew graceful by the new confidence their high station gave them ; Maria refused a good offer, because her lover had an ugly name ; and my dearest Sarah was absolutely per- secuted by a Sir Patrick O'Donaboo, who had what is called the run of the house, and who scarcely ever dined out of it during my mayoralty, whether I was at home or not. What did it matter ? there was plenty to eat and drink ; the money must be spent, and the victuals cooked; and so as we made our- selves happy, it was of no great consequence having one or two more or less at

table. We got used to the place, the establishtnent had got used to us ; we became, in fart, easy in our dignity aud happy in our state, when, oh I Mr. Gurney, the ninth of another November carne—the anniversary of my exalta- tion—the conclusion of my reign."

The griefs and mortifications of Mr. Firkins and his family, when he had "fallen from his high estate," are full of "very hu- morous sadness ;" but our readers must find them in the book itself. The extracts already given are a fair specimen of the con- tents of Gilbert Gurney.