HIS ECCENTRICITIES.

303

irritable, and his eccentricities were very notable. Although so full of wit and drollery in company, in private life he was intensely melancholy, and suffered at times under such depression of spirits that it was necessary to put away his razors, lest he should commit suicide. He was so fond of light, that he could not endure a blind to be lowered on the most blazing summer's day, and when he went out to dine, he always carried a pair of silver snuffers in his pocket to trim the candles with. If he saw a picture hung crooked in a strange house, he could not rest until he had adjusted it. He could not endure the touch of money, he said it made his flesh "goosey." He would fall into a frantic passion if a housemaid removed a pair of dirty stockings, which he had thrown down in the middle of his bed-room as a remembrancer, as people tie cotton round their fingers. Having an appointment at a city tavern one day, he was shown into the commercial room, where a traveller was regaling himself upon boiled beef. Casting his eyes upon the table, he observed he was not using mustard, this put him into a fidget. He took up a newspaper and tried to read, but spite of him his eyes would wander in the direction of that mustardless plate. At length he could endure it no longer. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said in his mildest accents, "I don't think you are aware that you have no mustard ?" The man stared, nodded, and went on

with his meal. Mathews again took

up

the newspaper; but again the abnormal sight irritated him beyond endurance, and advancing to the table and slapping it with his hand, he called out sharply, "Are-you-aware,―sir, that you are eating beef without mustard ?" Again the man stared without deigning a reply. This was more than Mathews could stand. Rushing to the side-board, he snatched up a mustard pot, and clapped it down in front of him with, By , you SHALL take mustard !” But he did not, and Mathews in a towering passion summoned the waiter, and desired to be shown into another room, remarking that he had never been in the company of such a disgusting savage before, and that he was quite sick at the revolting sight. Like all mimics he could not endure the thought of being imitated himself. He was shy too, and had a morbid dislike to be lionized, or in any way rendered conspicuous. He was very fond of animals; if he found any straying about at night, he would give them a shelter. A curious story of this love is told in some "Reminiscences;" I give it in the writer's own words :-" I happened to be in Bath once when he was giving his At Home' there. As we were walking along one of the principal streets one morning, a noble Newfoundland dog was sitting sedately bolt upright at a door we had to pass. As soon as we got opposite the dog, Mathews stopped short, went to the edge of the

DEBUT OF YOUNG CHARLes.

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pavement, took off his hat, made a low bow to the evidently astonished animal, and then passed on without saying a word. • Do you know him?' said I,' that you salute him in that fashion?' 'No,' he replied, but I have a profound respect for a dog like that, and I generally show it in the way you

His friend Wightwick, writing of his private character, says: "I knew him as a man; you, perhaps, only as an actor. I had opportunities of observing his scrupulous integrity; his affectionate and grateful attachment to those who loved him; his forgiving generosity towards those who had wronged him; and, more than all, his Christian resignation when threatened by the death which has since laid him low. And now, adieu for ever! Adieu, Charles Mathews! For the many hours of innocent and instructive amusement thou hast afforded, we proffer our gratitude; for thy purity of mind and unsullied integrity, our admiration; for thy warmth of heart, our love; for thy loss, our deep sorrow."

In the December of the year of his father's death, young Charles made his first bow to the public at the Olympic, with Liston, in the "Old and Young Stager," written for the occasion by Leman Rede, and in a piece of his own composition, entitled "The Hunchbacked Lover." It had been the wish of his father that he should take to the stage, as he be

VOL. II.

X

lieved, and rightly, as it proved, that he had great abilities for that calling; but the young man was too attached to his own profession-achitecture-to do so until, it may be presumed, the embarrassed position of himself and mother compelled him.

CHAPTER VIII.

SOME MORE FAMOUS COMEDIANS.

Joseph Munden-His Wonderful Faces-His Early Shifts and Dowton-John Emery

Poverty His Penuriousness His Great Acting as Tyke-Two Rustics-John Liston-Lack of Comic Power in his Early Years-An Usher-Love of Tragic Parts-As Octavian and Ronieo-Melancholy Last Days-The Man of One Story and the Persian Ambassador-The Man who did not like Tripe-Love of Fun among the Old Actors.

THERE is something rich and unctuous in the

very sound of the name MUNDEN. Some critics of his time severely censure his love of grimace; there is no doubt his style had a breadth which frequently degenerated into great exaggeration. But, according to Elia, and what authority can weigh against his upon such a subject? he must have been a marvellous comedian. "There is one face of Farley, one face of Knight, one (and what a one it is) of Liston: but Munden has none that you can properly pin down, and call his. When you think he has exhausted his battery of looks, in un