cd. He was, therefore, at such seasons, a mirror that reflected back with fidelity the prevailing spirit of the company. Unless chafed by opposition, these obnoxious traits were not visible, and his society was perfectly safe. To those who understood and attempted to practise on the keys of the machine, it might be made to discourse most excellent music; but in clumsy and awkward hands, it was sure to grate discord and harshness.

Such inequalities and contrarieties were discovered in his every day character; and he was then the well bred gentleman or the blustering bully, according to his conception of the treatment he received from the company he frequented. Instances of the epigrammatic brilliancy of his wit are too numerous for repetition. Kemble, who is too much addicted to opium, once undertook to remonstrate with Cooke on his prevailing intemperance. He heard him patiently to the end; to which this witty reply was given:-You take solid fire, and I liquid fire. Reform your own solids before you venture to interfere with my liquids. The severity of his language was sometimes almost without a parallel. On some controversy with a gentleman, which ended in a personal combat, in which Mr. Cooke was foiled, he craved a suspension of hostilities. Taking his own portrait from his bosom, he presented it to his antagonist, with these words: Do me the favour, sir, to wear this; and whenever you look upon it, remember that the original called you a scoundrel.

His life, replete as it is with such extravagancies, affords a useful and salutary lesson. It shows us the danger of suffering passion to run to riot, and of demolishing all those guards and restraints which decency no less than virtue demands. Had these fiery passions submitted to the curb, their natural impulse, on so strong an intellect, would have carried him through his professional career with dignity and honour, whatever that profession might have been. Abandoning this restraint, he was the untamable disciple of passion altogether; he broke upon us in sudden starts and sallies, and his success was made dependant on the fortuitous aid afforded by animal spirits. When these failed him, Cooke was no longer seen, and he was compelled to sup

ply their exhaustion by the bottle. This untamable exercise of his passions, explains the reason why in characters marked with these traits, such as Richard, for instance, he shone so unrivalled. He was himself speaking; and he rather moulded Richard to himself, than personated the character he acted. It was a natural outlet to strong passion; there Cooke was perfectly at home. With the restraints thus discarded, he presents to us a mixture of strange, contradictory, and inflammable passions, liable to be excited by the touch of every passing incident.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

Lines on the death of G. F. Cooke, the tragedian, by a young lady not yet fif teen years of age.

How lovely did the blooming morn

Gem with bright dew the rose girt thorn,
And wave it on the gale;

And opened every blushing bell,
That hung around yon rocky dell,

Or strew'd the verdant vale:
How brightly sparkled ev'ry stream,
Beneath the sun's enchanting beam!

But e'er he sought the glowing west,
And shed his last ray o'er the breast
Of yonder azure main,

Oh! mournfully we heard the tale,
While ev'ry glowing cheek grew pale,

And bosoms heav'd with pain,
The gloomy truth our tears beguil❜d-
We wept the fate of Erin's child!

Oh, Cooke! thy wand'rings all are past;
Thy woes, thy sorrows, hush'd at last,

And buried in the tomb:

Nor Pleasure's charm, nor Mis'ry's sigh,

Nor anguish'd tear, nor smiling eye,

Can rouse thee from the gloom:

Ah! life, and all its sweets are o'er,
And Sorrow's dart can pierce no more!

Lamented shade!-May angels fair,
Upon their azure plumage bear

Thee to a Father's breast;

And ev'ry little blot wash'd pure,
And dreams of happiness made sure,
And visions of the blest;

And Shakspeare, of thy merits proud,
Smile on thee from his beamy cloud!

And yet it wakes the sorrowing sigh,
To think that thou wert doom'd to die
Far from thy native shore:

No blushing rose, no thistle wild,
To strew the grave of their lov'd child,

When life's stream play'd no more;
Nor sweetly blooming shamrock wreath,
Its fragrance o'er thy form to breath!

Lamented spirit!-Now farewell!
And, while the pearly tear doth swell,

And while for thee I weep;

And while the world shall weigh thine art,

That charm'd the soul, and touch'd the heart,

They'll let thy frailties sleep;

And wish they too may be forgiv'n,

And meet thee at the throne of heaven.

ERIN.

INTERVIEW BETWEEN FOX AND BONAPARTE.

TAE memoirs of Mr. Fox, by his secretary Mr. Trotter, though not without defects which impair their value, possess still all the interest which is inseparable from authentic accounts of distinguished characters, and we are the more gratified in seeing an edition from the American press, as an evidence of respect to a

statesman whose disposition or whose policy was more favourable to our country than is often feit or pursued by European ministers. From the great number of amusing passages which the volume contains, we extract the following account of Mr. Fox's interview with Bonaparte in the year 1802.

On the day of the great levee, which was to collect so many representatives of nations, and noble strangers from every country to pay their respects to the first consul of France, now established as the sole head of government for life, several apartments, having the general name of the Salle des Ambassadeurs, were appropriated for the crowd of visitors at the levee, previous to their being admitted to the first consul's presence. Lord Holland, lord Robert Spencer, lord St. John, Mr. Adair, and myself, accompanied Mr. Fox there. I must acknowledge that the novel and imposing scene amused and interested me in a high degree. This grand masquerade of human life, was inconceivably striking-the occasion of assembling-the old palace of the Bourbons-the astonishing attitude that France had assumed, affected the imagination, and almost overpowered the judgment. A latent smile was often to be caught on the countenances of different intelligent and enlightened men; it said, very significantly, can this be reality? can so wonderful a fabric be permanent?

His toils were now approaching; there was a much greater number of English presented than of any other nation. Mr. Merry, the English ambassador, appeared, on the part of the British government, to sanction and recognise the rank and government of the first consul? Mr. Merry, whose nation had, under the blind auspices of an intemperate minister, fatally interfered with the internal concerns of a great people, and had vainly attempted to counteract the success of their efforts. What a subject had he for a letter, in the style of Barillon, for the perusal of Mr. Pitt, or his friend, Mr. Addington, then acting as Pitt's deputy, or locum tenens, in the government! Mr. Merry!-then acting under lord Hawkesbury, the Quixottic marcher to Paris, which same lord was now receiving a magnificent present of a service of china of unrivalled beauty and elegance, from this same new government and Bonaparte. It would have been an instructive lesson for Mr. Pitt himself, could he invisibly, with Minerva by his side, have contemplated the scene; he might then have studied history, and discovered that such interference and conduct in foreign powers, as that of his and the allied potentate, had made Cromwell a king, or an emperor, and fixed the succession in his family.

"What think you of all this?" said the chevalier d'AZARA, ambassador from Spain, addressing himself to Mr. Fox. The other gave an expressive smile" It is an astonishing,time," continued he; "pictures-statues-I hear the Venus de Medicis is on her way-what shall we see next?" A pleasant dialogue ensued: these enlightened statesmen diverting themselves, when

scolding and anger could avail nothing. The TURKISH AMBASSADOR graced the splendid scene; a diminutive figure, accompanied by a suit of fine and handsome men;-he reposed on a sofa-the heat was excessive, and his crossed-legged attitude but little relieved him;-his companions spoke French with great ease, and some of them were fine Grecian figures.

Count MARKOFF! covered with diamonds-of a most forbidding aspectof sound sense, however-malgre a face no lady would fall in love with-and an ungraceful air-The marquis LUCCHESINI!, the king of Prussia's ambassador, who, from an obscure situation, by having become the reader to a minister, was elevated to the corps diplomatique-gaudily dressed—always with several conspicuous colours-one thought of a foreign bird, on seeing him; and his physiognomy coroborated the idea-agreeable, however, pleasing in manners, easy in his temper, and enjoying rationally the amusing scenes around him.

The marquis DE CALLO! the Neapolitan ambassador-an unmeaning nobleman of the old school-florid in manner, but not calculated to produce effect in politics or conversation.-Have I forgotten the count COBENZEL!-that sage and venerable negotiator was there. A small, emaciated figure,—pale, and worn out with the intrigues of courts, he seemed to have been reserved to witness the scene before us, as a refutation of all his axioms and systems. With excellent good sense, he took all in good part-he was too wise to betray dissatisfaction, and too politic not to bend to the gale. The American ambassador, Mr. LIVINGSTON, plain and simple in manners and dress-representing his republic with propriety and dignity. Of these, I believe, M. d' Azara, held the first rank for intellect; he had all the appearance of a man of genius-he seemed very much to enjoy the society of Mr. Fox-he and the count Cobenzel are both since dead, as, no doubt, are many other of the actors in the grand drama of that day.

The illustrious statesman of England, who that day attracted every eye, is himself withdrawn also from mortal scenes!

A number of English noblemen and gentlemen-many Russians-Swedish officers, with the white scarf on their arm, also crowded the rooms. The cardinal CAPRARA! representing his holiness the pope, with his scarlet stockings and cap, was to me a novel sight--he was a polite and dignified ecclesiastic, and, but that I was imbued a little with the prejudices of English historians and other authors, I should have found nothing extraordinary in the respectable cardinal. I am now ashamed that I did.

This grand assemblage were detained a considerable time, in the Salle des ambassadeurs, during which several servants, in splendid laced liveries, handed round coffee, chocolate, the richest and finest wines, and cake, upon China, bearing the initial B. without any armorial, royal, or established marks of power. The heat was excessive, and expectation wearied with the pause, began to droop, when the door opened, and the prefet du Palais an