lady's retiring up, when it is the gentleman's turn; the final
passion of a pas-de-deux; and the going off with a bound!--I shall
never see a real ballet, with a composed countenance again.

I went, another night, to see these Puppets act a play called 'St.
Helena, or the Death of Napoleon.' It began by the disclosure of
Napoleon, with an immense head, seated on a sofa in his chamber at
St. Helena; to whom his valet entered with this obscure
announcement:

'Sir Yew ud se on Low?' (the ow, as in cow).

Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a
perfect mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly, with a
monstrously disproportionate face, and a great clump for the lower-
jaw, to express his tyrannical and obdurate nature. He began his
system of persecution, by calling his prisoner 'General
Buonaparte;' to which the latter replied, with the deepest tragedy,
'Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me not thus. Repeat that phrase and
leave me! I am Napoleon, Emperor of France!' Sir Yew ud se on,
nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an ordinance of
the British Government, regulating the state he should preserve,
and the furniture of his rooms: and limiting his attendants to
four or five persons. 'Four or five for ME!' said Napoleon. 'Me!
One hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command; and this
English officer talks of four or five for ME!' Throughout the
piece, Napoleon (who talked very like the real Napoleon, and was,
for ever, having small soliloquies by himself) was very bitter on
'these English officers,' and 'these English soldiers;' to the
great satisfaction of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to