ANGELO'S REMINISCENCES.* THE title of this bulky volume gives a

pretty fair notion of its con- tents. It might be expected that amongst so much gossip there would be a considerable quantity of trash ; and there is, perhaps, even more than a fair allowance. Mr. ANGELO, like many other men, has two foibles, which are mischievous in a reminiscent,—first, he thinks that every thing that has happened to himself is important ; and second, that no titled person can possibly say or do any thing which is not worth recording. ANGELO, however, has a taste for humour in his way; and, though probably given to laughing too easily at any speech which may be let off in the shape of a joke, he still can distinguish between absolute nonsense and a witticism. It is possible, however, that his « Reminiscences of Henry Angelo, with Memoirs of his late Father and Friends, in- cluding numerous original Anecdotes, and curious Traits of the most celebrated Chaise- • ters that have flourished during the last Eighty Years. Vol. 11. London, IWO.

taste may be superior to his power of recounting, and that some of

the enormous platitudes we meet with are attributable to his spoiling the jest in the repetition,—a high crime and misdemeanour to which

your hearty laughers and jovial spirits are very liable. When all is

said, however, we greatly prefer plain HENRY ANGELO to the tawdry affectation of the Random Records: besides, the Reminiscences really contain more good things, more curious anecdotes, and are infinitely more readable. You may possibly fall asleep over them, but you are not likely to throw them down in a movement of disgust. We quote, by way of favourable specimen, four of Mr. ANGELO.S best stories. The one respecting FOOTE is unaccountable, like many other traits of that strange person's character.

GRIMALDI'S NEW DANCE—Rich, the manager of Covent Garden Theatre, who was ever ready to catch at an thing that was novel, or of pantomimic

tendency, listened with rapture to Grimaldi, who proposed an extraordinary

new dance ; such a singular dance that would astonish and fill the house every night, hut it could not be got up without some previous expense, as it

was an invention entirely of his own contrivance. There must be no re- hearsal; all must be secret before the grand display in and the exhibition on the first night. Rich directly advanced a sum to Grimaldi, and waited the

result with impatience. The maitre Ile ballet took care to keep up his ex-

pectations, so far letting him into the secret, that it was to be a dance on horse-shoes, that it would surpass any thing before seen, and was much su-

perior to all the dancirv, that ever was seen in pumps. The newspapers were all puffed for a wonderful performance that was to take place on a certain eyening, The house was crowded, all noise and impatience—no Grimaldi—

no excuse: at last an apology was made. The grand promoter of this won- derful, unprecedented dance, had been absent above six hours, having danced away on four horse-shoes to Dover, and taken French leave.

DEBUT AT A CLUB OF ODD FELLOWS.—One of the places where they used to resort was for persons of all descriptions ; Bob Deny's, well known in

our caricaturist's time. He told me the following strange story ; and, incre- dible as it appeared, yet it gave me an idea of the old school of Odd Fel- lows. "On my being made a member, I was told that the first night I

might expect to be knocked down ; and on my first entering into the room, I

walked up to the lire-place. • There I saw a respectable-looking man seated in an arm-chair, with a candle in his hand, who was lighting his pipe. Demme!

I knocked him down. After picking up his wig, he called out, • What's that for?'—' Because I was told I was to be knocked down first.' I never after- wards received the least insult or a blow from any one, though I have passed many jolly evenings with pleasant fellows there." FQCITE AND THE FLIES.—I was very young at the time, but I perfectly re- collect our family dining with Foote, at his country-house at North End.

Sir Francis Delaval, Sir Thomas Apreece, and the elder Colman, were of the

party. After dinner, when we were all delighted with his wit and humour, the servant placed before him a large sheet of brown paper, smeared with honey, and covered with struggling flies. This so much attracted his notice, that he began crushing them with his tooth-pick, while those who were lis- tening to his quickness of fancy, did not observe him so cruelly employed, or his want of good manners.

BLow Tone Nom—Old Slaughter's Coffee-house was my usual resort to read the papers. I once sat near Sir William Chere, who had a very long

nose, and was playing at backgammon with old General Brown. During this time, Sir William, who was a snuff-taker, was continually using- his snuff- box, seldom making the application necessary to keep pace with -his indul- gence. Observing him leaning continually over the table, and being at the same time in a very bad humour with the game, the General said,

"Sir William, blow your nose." " Blo.w it yourself, 'tis as near you as me !"