the apartments. This permission attracted great numbers of visitors, by one of whom the following description of the interior of this extraordinary mansion is given :

The first objects that attracted attention, were the ponderous folding-doors of the shop, and the rusty bolts, bars, and chains for securing them. The ceiling in the hall exhibited traces of former elegance, and the stair-case displayed much workmanship. On the first flight of stairs hung the remains of a long-extinguished lamp. The first room on the first floor had been a kitchen, where was seen a jack, spit, &c., the rusty condition of which demonstrated that it had not been moved for many years. It had long been deprived of its chain, with which Mr. Bentley secured the tea-trays placed against the broken panes of his shop windows. Here, also, was a clock, which was once handsome, and no doubt regulated the movements of his father's family, but now so disguised with dirt, as to be much better calculated to inform the spectator how many years' filth it had accumulated, than to point out the fleeting hours and minutes. The kitchen range, once equally good and useful, had only been used to support a fryingpan without a handle, curiously mended with pegs, in which Bentley used to burn a mixture of small-coal and charcoal for cooking his provisions. The furniture of this place consisted of a dirty round table, and a bottomless chair

made useful by the cover of a packing box. Except a few articles of broken earthenware, the shelves and dressers exhibited nothing but old shoes, a masquerade wig, cocked hat and sword. Beside the tin flour-vessel, the cleanest article in the house, stood a chemist's pipkin supplied with soap for shaving, a brush of his own manufacture, and a piece of broken looking-glass curiously inlaid in wood. This was evidently the only dressing and sittingroom, and here also its extraordinary inhabitant reposed, wrapping himself up in an old coat, and lying upon the floor, which, from the accumulated dirt and rubbish, must have been softer than the bare boards.

Next to the kitchen was a small study, apparently long inhabited by spiders. The closet was full of dirty bottles, from which it was conjectured that Mr. Bentley had formerly been engaged in chemical pursuits. The ceiling of this room had been elegant, and the ground being blue, he gave it the name of the blue room, by which it has already been mentioned in this narrative. The secretary and bookcase contained some valuable works; the counterpart was his jewelry casket, from which he used to indulge his female customers with little ornaments as presents, which never failed to be very productive in his way of business.

The dining-room contained a large, round, mahogany table, at which, as Bentley related, the company were entertained at his christen

ing. Here the looking-glasses and pictures could not be distinguished from the sable walls. The antiquated grate, once highly polished steel, but for many years a prey to consuming rust, contained nothing combustible, but seemed to groan under an immense burden of mortar and rubbish blown down the chimney. The marble side-board, relics of chairs, the chimney-piece, elegantly carved, and the shades of lustres hung round the ceiling, indicated the former respectability of the place.

The carpet in this room was a curiosity, for, except the corner was turned up, the visitor imagined that he was treading on dirty boards. One of the closets was full of pipkins and phials, of which Mr. Bentley charged his successor to be particularly careful, as they contained poison enough to destroy half London.

The second floor was truly a repository of rubbish and filth. In one of the rooms was a heap of feathers, which had been the contents of a bed that had fallen to pieces on being moved, and adjoining to this was a small apartment, once his mother's favorite dressing-room, but long converted into a workshop, and which contained the remains of a forge, work-bench, tools for jewellery, smith's work, japanning and other operations. In the passage lay all the account-books of his father, who no doubt would have been equally mortified and irritated, could he have returned to witness his son's proceedings.

In one of the garrets were found fragments of a four-post bedstead, relics of blankets, pillows and bedding, but no description can convey any idea of their rotten and filthy condition. This had evidently once been Mr. Bentley's chamber. It also contained a heap of old shoes and several baskets of foul cast-off linen. In another of the garrets was a table covered with globes and astronomical instruments, telescopes, compasses, and books, and here Mr. Bentley is said to have spent much time in the study of the heavens.

Such was the appearance of the interior of this building, which remained for twenty years the wonder of every spectator. Mr. Bentley, Defore he quitted the premises, was at length obliged to submit to the disagreeable necessity of putting them in repair. To avoid any legal discussion on the subject of dilapidations, he paid down, without hesitation, the sum at which the surveyor estimated the expense of the repairs; but in this business he manifested his accustomed singularity, not suffering the laborers to enter the ground floor, but compelling them to descend into the cellar through its window, and go up to the top and other parts by a ladder raised against the front, so as not to interrupt the business of his shop.

In February, 1804, as we have already mentioned, Mr. Bentley finally quitted that business which for forty years he had conducted in a manner so truly extraordinary. It may

be supposed that his time would now hang heavy upon his hands, after being for so long a period accustomed to the active pursuits of trade. We are, however, convinced that this opinion is erroneous; for Mr. Bentley, as it appears from the preceding account, possesses an enlightened and well-informed mind, and sufficient resources within himself to pass his time agreeably, either amid the bustle of business or the calmer hours of retirement.

JOSEPH HAYNES.

JOSEPH HAYNES was the Patch of the theatre, if we may venture, though but in metaphor, to transfer an officer or fool of regal consequence to the mimic kingdom. The place of his birth is not known, nor the exact condition of his parents, further than that they were poor, but in their character respectable. It would seem, however, that Westminster has the honor of having produced him, as Tobyas Thomas, his original biographer, states that he was educated at St. Martin's school, where his progress was so extraordinary as to attract great admiration; indeed, so remarkable were his aptitude and proficiency, that several gentlemen sent him to Oxford, in order that a lad