Lord Byron having thus succeeded to the ne plus ultra of his object, and enjoying the ludicrous and eager enquiry so strongly depicted in Dowton's countenance and manner, put into his hands the tragedy of Bertram. Dowton took the paper, but his imagination was still in the clouds; his countenance did not resume its usual composure till Lord Byron commenced his narrative. "The favor I require," exclaimed his Lordship, "is, that you read this manuscript to-night, and give me your opinion of its merits by twelve o'clock to-morrow morning."

Upon seeing the length of the tragedy,—the lateness of the hour,—the short period allowed him to read and digest a five act tragedy, and wishing at the same time not to injure his reputation in this new character of tragic critic to his Lordship, and although relieved from the dilemma, his feelings were again excited with the Herculean task.

Dowton looked with all his eyes; he did not exactly "sigh," but "he looked, and looked, and looked again,"

first at the manuscript and then at Lord Byron, and at length with becoming respect, and that modesty which always accompanies real talent, he exclaimed, "My Lord, you will, I am sure, pardon me if I decline giving an opinion on a point where your Lordship's judgment must ever rank pre-eminently above all others! This is a tragedy, had it been a comedy I should have felt less scruple." Lord Byron however would take no denial, and assured him that he entertained the highest opinion of his discernment and good taste on all theatrical subjects, and that he would take his judgment in preference to his own, or that of any other man on the stage.

Dowton took Bertram under his protection and walked off, and waited upon Lord Byron the next morning at the appointed time, and remarked that the language was truly beautiful, and that the opening was perfectly dramatic, but it closed rather heavily, and not with the same dramatic effect with which it commenced, nevertheless from the elegance and sublimity of the language he strongly recommended its

public trial on the boards. "I am glad you like it," exclaimed his Lordship, with emphatic delight, "for it is the production of a poor clergyman. I feel interested in his behalf! Would you believe, Dowton," continued his Lordship, "that he has offered this piece to the Committee for the trifling sum of £50." His Lordship immediately wrote to him, and enclosed him a check for that amount, and without loss of time began to study how he might serve the poor author beyond the willing sacrifice of £50. He got him a publisher and the best patronage-raised the intended piece the publication succeeded far beyond his expectations: he became possessed of a considerable sum, and wished to return the fifty pounds to his patron, but Lord Byron with his usual generosity refused to accept it.

Lord Byron had a particular penchant to see Dowton intoxicated, a circumstance which it is said had never taken place. One cold frosty night, finding the

comedian about to leave the theatre, his Lordship invited him into his private room, and observed that he was sorry he could not ask him to take wine, but seemed in Dowton's opinion to wish it on his own account. Dowton observed that he could obtain what was necessary from Raymond, who was plentifully supplied by Mrs. Coutts; they consequently went together, but Raymond had nothing but whiskey. Lord Byron then expressed his skill in making toddy from that liquor in a superior style; the toddy was prepared in his Lordship's private room, when the pleasing conversation and the strength of the liquor produced the desired effect.

Dowton finding the effects of the potion, attempted to make an honorable retreat, but his legs refusing to perform their natural functions, he staggered, and reeling left the theatre. Lord Byron, delighted at his success, followed him, and ordered his carriage to convey Dowton to his house in safety; but Dowton persisted in going in his usual pedestrian-like manner. His Lordship finding that he could not prevail,

desired his servant to protect him, and not to leave him until he reached home. This was highly relished the next morning by the whole corps-dramatique, many attempts having been previously made upon the sobriety of Dowton without producing the desired effect.

This ruse was often told against Dowton, embellished with his tumbling in the snow; his natural independence in spouting Falstaff to the winds: the servant of Lord Byron keeping from his view, lest he should rouse his indignation to suppose for a moment that he was incapable of pursuing a well-known journey: his knocking down a good humoured watchman, because he had no spirits to drink the health of Mrs. Coutts, for providing Raymond with such excellent whisky: his exclamations of praise for Raymond's generosity and good sense, in hoarding up the delicious beverage for such excellent fellows as himself and his Lordship: the whole embellished with the shrewd remarks of Lord Byron, was the amusement of the theatrical circle for some time.