The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1825-12-01 00:00:00

FRKNCII MORNING WALKING DRFS9.

A high dress of lavender-coloured gros de Naples, trimmed
round the border with three rows ofthe same, of full fluted flounces,
plaited in the middle ; the sleeves en Apt, confined at the wrists
with straps of the same material as the gown. A pelerine rape falls
over the shoulders, trimmed all round, the same as the skirt, except
that this trimming is narrower than the flounces; over the pelerine
falls a double collar of fine Mechlin lace. A bonnet of white chip
is worn withlit‘s dress, whim is more simple, and more n l'.4sg.
hare than any we have lately seen from Paris. This bonnet is or-
namented in a novel manner, which takes from it the summer light-
ness it would otherwise have, but which we do not much admire;
it has bias routeaux of chip entwined all over the crown, and reach.
ing over a part of the brim. We would advise our countrywomen
who admire this dress to have the rouleaux of white satin. We
only describe it agreeably to the statement of it front our Parisian
correspondent. It has s beautiful full bouquet of blown roses,
with their buds and ferlinge pissed in front.
The Duke of Clarence came to town yesterday morning,
from his residence at Bushy. His Royal Iliglincss ho-
noared the Scottish Corpotaticn, of which the Royal Duke
is President, with his company to dinner, and afterwards
left his residence in Charles-street, Berkeley-square, on
his return to Bushy.
The Earl of Liverpool wits expected at Coombe Wood
yesterday evening, from Sittinghourmi, on his return from
Wollner Castle.

Mr. Secretary Canning arrived of his residence in
Downing-strect yesterday aftttnoon, from the seat of Mr.
Ellis, at Seaford, Sussex._

We regret to state that the Duchcss of Rutland departed
this life on Tuesday morning, about eleven o'clock. at
Belvoir Grade. Her Grace was taken ill on Saturday.
Sir Henry Raiford. Bart. left town express on Monday,
and arrived about three hours before her decease. Her
Grace was in her 434 year.

Madame Joseph Bonaparte has arrived at Rome, with
her daughter, who is about to be married to the son of
Louis Bonaparte. _ _

The foll Owing arc the names of the performers attached
to tits Italian Orme, who hare arrived at New York:—
Signor and Signora Garcia, Signotette Garcia, Signor Garcia,
jun. of the King's Opera, London: Signor and Signori Ferri.
Don Fabian, Giovani Cavelii, Paole Rosich, Signor Felix
Angrlsani, Giuseppe Pasta, Giovanni Carlini, Cricofarto
Constantino, of the Italian Opera.
worst. SOClETT.—Yesterday being St. Andrew's day,
the Royal Society met at its rooms, Somerset House, to
choose its officers for the ensuing year. The following is
the list of the new Council:—

John Barrow, E. 7.; John Rostock. M.D. ; Sir Aqtley Poston
Cooper, Bare.; Benjamin Ownperts„ Eaq.; Stephen Groombrielge,
Eq.; Sir Abraham flume, Bari.; Daniel Moore, E,q. • Richard
Earl of Mount Edgecumbe; Peter Mark Roger, N.U. ; Jama
South, Faq.

TABLE-TALK ABOUT KU hAN.

[From the New Monthly Magazine, published this day.]

Mrs. Lum, whose " Readitgs" were commemorated in
my ferment's Letter, has removed into Berners-street. I
cannot say that I admire the street, frowned upon as it hi
by the Middlesex Hospital : however, there she is, and her
first dinner-party was composed of Lord Robert Ranter,
Colonel and Mrs. Nightingale, Sir Hans Dabs Oliphant
and Iris Lady, Augusta Thackeray, and Mr. and Mrs.
Mndfortl. Mrs. Lum, who is a very intellectual woman,
had rather not give dinners et all ; hut people won't be
read to on any other terms. " Now, I am going to he
sung at," said Madame Yestris, with a distasteful air, as-
she walked upon the stage to encounter " Water parted
from the sea." For myself, I would rather be sung at,
titan read at, on any day in the year, especially when Ma-
dame Vestris is the singer ; but every one to his liking.
Mrs. Lunt's soup and fish passed off very well, bring en-
livened with the Cayenne of Mailicws's old joke, played of
by Augustus Thackeray, viz. that the talk of the table, if
it turns upon the table viands that then graced it, must ne-
cessarily be soup-or-fish-ial. The first course too passed
away, without any accident; but, between its disappear-
ance and the advent of the second, there occurred one of
those bitches in the scenery, which, when they take place
at either of' our winter theatre', are honoured by a hiss.
flow cooks manage as they do, is to ire a miracle. To
bring so many dishes to bear upon one given moment, not- 1
withstanding the irregularity of guests in arriving at the
place of appointment, appears to me a feat that may cope
in merit with the skill of a Marlborough or a Wellington
1 in bringing armies into the field. Upon the occasion en
I question, however, the cook, like Gen. Mack, was at fault.
i Lord Ro'airt Ranter saw ars. Lum's distress, and gallantly
stepped forward with a story about Sheridan to relieve her.
" Did I not see Moore's Life of Sheridan, in the drawitia-
, room ?" inquired his Lordship.—" You did,' answered '
the lady : '• I mean to read it to you this evening, pro-
vided we get through Southey's Book of the Church in
tolerable time." Lord Robert bowed his gratitude, and
continued: I am surprised that so clever a 1110.11 as Mr.
I Moore should have omitted the story of Sheridan and the
i plate-warmer. Your servants recent rencontre with that
machine reminds me of the anecdote." Mrs. Lum looked
towards the door, and, finding it still closed against the
second course, smilingly requested to hear it. " Sheri-
' dan," resumed Lord Robert, " was dining at Peter Mcore's
with his son Tom"—" Whose son Tom?" inquired Mr.
Mudfortl.—" Sheridan's, of course," answered his Lord-
; ship.—" Oh I did not know," said Mr. Mudforel; " I
thought Peter Moore might have a son Tom—he was your
last antecedent"—" Well," resumed Lord Robert, " pier
Tom was at that time in a very nervous debilitated state.
I The servant, in passing quickly between the guests and the
! fire-place, struck down the plate-warmer. This made a
deuce of n rattle, and caused Tom Sheridan to start and
' tremble. Peter Moore, provoked at this, rebuked the ser-
vant, and added, ' I suppose you have broken all the
plates?'—' No, Sir,' said the servant, ' not one,'—' No, !
exclaimed Sheridan ; ' then damn it, you leave made all
that noise for nothing.' " Lord Robert, while narrating this
anecdote, like a skilful general, kept his eye upon the door,
which opened with a boiled turkey, as he uttered the
words " nervous debilitated state." The narrator spoke
in slow time, to allow of the deposit of the partridges and
sweetbreads; came to " start and tremble" on the arrival
of the trifle and plover's eggs; and concluded the anec-
dote with " noise for nothing" as the last dish was placed
on the table. " What kindness and humanity !" ejacu-
lated Mrs. Lum to herself, " thus to draw off the atten-
tion of the company from an empty table-cloth ! But his
talents shall not go unrewarded, I will give him 811 extra
erening's reading; he shall have M'Culloch's Political
Economy all to himself."
Every guest at table secretly determined to make the
most or this story : but from lack of Lord Roberts tact,
they none of them produced any effect from repea!ing it.
Augustus Thackeray carried it off on the next evening
into the city, to a dinner given by a Blackwell-hall factor,
in King's-arms-yard, Coleman-street; and, aiming to ex-
tend Lord Robert Ranter's two-set piece into a flve-act
comedy, completely spoilt it. He thus prefaced- it—" Your
mention, Sir, of Harley's peeping Tom reminds me of
poor Tom Sheridan. My first acquaintance with him
was on the coining out of Curartacus—a scriabs panto-
mime—at the late Drury-lane Theatre. I believe Tom
wrote the wrestling scene between Wallack and Miss
Brictowe--thrn two children. But of this I am not cer-
tain." At this period of his narrative, Thackeray had
obtained " the ear of the court," as the phrase is in West-
minster-hall—and had he " got over the ground," he
might have " whtained his rule." " Mr. Duntler," said
the late Lord Ellenhorough to a barrister of the overlaying
species, " the Court is already with you, unless, by perse-
vering to plead, you wish that it should be against you."
A hint like this would have been of' immense service to
Thackeray, who thus went on—" On the night before its
representation 'Tom Sheridan was in the green-room' and
so was I. Tom was engaged to sup with Sir John Carr
in the Temple, and asked me if I knew whereabout his
chambers were?—Yes, said I, in Garden-court. I am
going that way, and will show you.—' Thank you,' said
be. Poor fellow ! I never saw Lim afterwards. Let me
see, where was I ?"—" In Garden-court, Sir," said a com-
plaisant bill-broker, who sat on 'l'hackeray's left hand.
But by this time, from the length of his prologue, Ids au-
dience had dwindled away, one by one, until, to adopt the
Rev. Sydney Smith's phrase. " he had preached himself
bare to the very sexton." Still, however, be proceeded,
and was in the act of enlightening his solitary listening
bill-broker upon the subject of Sheridan and the plate-
warmer, when a rival annalist set the table in a roar, and
effectually drowned poor Tom Sheridan by the following
story. " You all knew Charles Tessier—(cmnes, " all
all" )—Well ! after living some years in Austin-friars, he
took to high life, and went up to Grosvenor-square. lie
was invited one day to dine with a dandy colonel (whose
promissory note he lead indorsed) in Upper Brook-street.
In stalked little Charles at seven: and meaning to do a bit
of grandeur, exclaimed, " I cant think whatcould be the
matter with my horses just now. The coachman could
hardly manage them. He was obliged to drive them
three times round Grosvenor-square to make them quiet."
—" Why the fact is, Tessier,' said Dawes the banker,
" they were frightened—they did not know where they
were. If they had been in Finsbury-square, they would '
I have were.,
quiet enough." This sally fell so harrnoni-
i ously upon the ears of a set of dwellers in Old Bethlern,
Tokenhouse-yard. Lothbury, and Savage-gardens, that
Thaelceray was regularly floored. The conflict-
rang h came upon him " like a roaring lion from Topher,"
TrMiy Tie so bold as to steal a simile from the gay de-
ceiver of Moorgate.
Sir Hans Dabs Oliphant went away from Mrs. Lum's,
[ with the anecdote in his sensoriutn, and thought himself
perfectly sure of an audience in Lady Bromley (a very
quiet deaf old woman, who will listen to anything), in a
private box at Covent-garden Theatre. Unluckily, Miss
l'aton performed Mundane ; and Sir Hans, who has no
taste for anything but Shakspeare, was telling the story,
while that lady. was singing " Fly, soft ideas, fly." The
state of Lady Bromley's auriculars rendered it necessary
that S.r Hans should tell his tale rather in alt: this the
audience, who have got a knack of being attentive when
Miss Paton sings, took in dudgeon ; and accordingly cries
of " Silence, turn him out", throw him over, put Sir Hans'
soft ideas to the rout ; and Sheridan's plate-warmer was
once more thrown prostrate.
Mr. Mutlford tetok the anecdote to the table of a " se-
rious" family at Gravesend ; but being in the act of moult-
ing his profane feathers (he has been since regularly evan-
gelised by his wife), he told Sheridan's retort with the
oath, and consequently " missed stays." Colonel Night-
ingale conveyed it to a House dinner at the United Service
Club; but unfortunately the company, jointly and seve-
rally, had gotten into that vile tried( of telling a parcel of
stories, one after the other, about Sheridan, consisting of
the old hash of, composer of wine and importer of musie—
making a creditor trot his horse up and clown C:arges-
stre:t, while he bolted into May-fair—Cumberland and
his new tragedy, The Forty Thiesys, which was nicknamed
at the time Sheridan and his thirty-nine thieves—et hoe
genus omne. In the midst of all this the poor plate-warmer
could only " take its turn, and be forgotten." Mind I
ain not blaming the 'tor -tellers: every man, especially 'at
a club, has a right to tell his own story ' • brat for myself,
where conversation, or rather narration, take, that turn at

table, I make it a rule to call for my hat. There ito
enduring it. I really believe I know every story that wk.
ever told. What would 1 not give to be possessed (wits;
wisdom I Whenever a man asks me at table, " Did you
ever hear the
.anecdote of—" I constantly interrupt Lino
with " Yea," without waiting for Asti noun rubstantise.
• Shakspeare talks or evil deeds? which "reruns to plague
the inventor." It is the sainewith stories. Lord Robert
Ranter, on the day se'nnight which succeeded his narreth,
actually had his own story told to him at table by a eltiii
man from Dundee, who would not be stopped do what hi,
Lordship would. Dill your Lordship ever hear a reinavi,
ably good story about Sheridan ?"—" Yes, Sir, I hoe
heard them all.'—" It happened at Peter Moore's :-...teu
must know poor Nom Sheridan was far from well, atui'_..
—" I'd thank 'FOY for' some bread ;"—" So, Sir, the Set.,
vane in going too near the-.."—" A glass of water, if sou
please ;" —"''Fire-pact; lutocked down--&—" Lady's°,
triers, shall I have the pleasure of—"—" The plate.
warmer—
" He e Lord Robert called out, the whole po;ee
comilulas, and the narrative danced on to the following
miscellaneous tune. " Upon which Peter MAnre said ...r.
—" No potatoes—"—" Feeling for Tom Sheridan.......
—" Sherry for me, but take which you like—"---o 1 „p.
Ipose you have broken all the—"—" Champaigne by all
nierins."—" No gravy, but I'll trouble Capt. 'Wats.-
—" No, Sir," said thwyeettent—" But"—" Peter !d0.,„-
-" More brecoli and no Wolter." To such casualtits rep
the most undaunted narrator be subject, who tells he
storks when people are hungry !
At'ter all, the pleasantest people at table are those who
never tell stories at all. The merest trifle that Apritig,
from the occasion is worth a hundred of the best jokes of
narratives that ever were transplaKest. It is the tam, ur,
the steno. The moment when Sr. A. says to Mr 4
Pray be seated ;" and sprawling out his legs, conuoekee
with " It is now fifteen years since I tint became le,
quainted with your father, then on foreign servic... At
the commencement of our friendship an incident (mune!
—" From that epoch I date a buts of inattention free
pit, box, and galleries. Not that I mean to banish story.
telling from all places. There are several dull street,
where they may be resorted to with propriety. Old But.
lington-street and Stratford-place are very good story-tell.
ing streets, especially when the Opera House is not open.
When that seat of sony, is accessible, people are plaguill
apt to ring fur their earriicees, and leave you in the middle
of your catastrophe. A friend, of mine, in fact, ouzel
the Opera season, was cut short in the midst of a lament.
able fire of his that happened at Birmingham, by serer
men jumping from table to go and hear " Cherry ripe" e
the little Theatre in the Haymarket. Ever knee he ha
looked at the play-bill before-hand. The dinner hour in
London is now so late, and there are so many music lion
and lionesses prowling about up stairs in the two drawing.
rooms, seeking n hat of Mozart or Rossini they may devout,
that it requires the agility of Mazutier himself to whip i.,
an anecdote at table. 1 have two very good stories of an
own, that I have been trying to tell these seven years vritL:
out success. It is as difficult as getting a writership u
India. One of them, however, I contrived to fire off it
Drury-lane green-room, under the bust of' Mrs. Siddons
I knew my cue as well as the actors who heard me. The
play was the " School for Sbandal," and I knew mud
sure of Mrs. Candour, Lady Stieerwell, Sir Benjamin Bari.
bite, Crabtree, and Maria. The call-boy, I was avow
would leave them alone for three long acts. They itad w
where but the green-room to go to. The story was a
follows:—Old Wewitzer was joking and laughing at n.
bearish, instead of minding the business of the were.
Raymond, who was then stage-manager, took hint to tea
for this, and said, " Come, Mr. Wewitzer, I with yes
would pay a little attention."—" Well, Sir," answered
Wewitzer, " so I am—l'm paying as little as I can:-
My other story is about Sheridan and Delpini the c!opl,
—the man who, on the Prince of Walos's refusal to wi:
Harris to give him a benefit, said, " Very well, Sir, dm
I must go to your Papa's Bench." This, however, is us:
i the story in question. What I have been dining out is
long to tell, relates to a quarrel between Sheridan sad
Delpini. There is no time like the present: I will tell it
now. Sheridan and Didpini fell Into high words Wants
to an arrear of salary due to the litter, as Mau Friday in
the " Robinson Crusoe" of the formes. Sheridan, pro-
yoked at what he deemed the insolence of the pmtomimist,
told him that he had forgotten lift station. " No, indeed,
Monsieur Sheridan, I have not," retorted Delpini: "1
know the difference between us perfectly well. In birth.
parentage, and education, you are superior to tne ; but. itolife, character, and behaviour, I am superior to you!,