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 CHARLES DIBDIN beefsteaks. After dinner, I left them singing-“Oh the roast beef of Old England ! ” HewardinE, With whorm I have passed many a ploasant and couvivial hour, and having professionally en ami obliged him. However, his songs a la Morris proved lucrative to him, and amusing to the many who have listened to them. He voluntarily offered to write one for me, as a select and exclusive, that no person should sing it, first, but myself. Leaving me the choice of the air, I fixed on "Poll, dang it how do ye do?" the Sailor-boy capering on shore. Thefollowing week I was to have it, when, alas! poor fellow, he was no more. His social company his humour-and courted society, that dissipation exceeding his stamina, and no resolution to recruit it, by absence from those who gratified their own amusement, hastened him, at an early age, to his grave. CHARLES DIBDIN. Some little distance beyond Bear Hill, where the late Duke of Kent once resided, Dibdin had his country house, where John Bannister and myself passed our evenings. This was during his summer residence. Till supper, I was amused hear- ing some of his new compositions, preparatory to his exhibit ing them at his theatre in Leicester Street. It was in his summer-house he told us that " Poor Jack," and the greater part of his favourite songs, were composed. His harpsichord, I think, he told us, belonged to Handel. After supper, the song following, when it came to my turn, par complaisunce to 31