Take him all in all I rather like George Lamb, notwithstanding they say he does eat too much dinner, which occasions him to drink too much wine in order to wash too much dinner down. This does not however prevent his being one of the frankest men I ever met with. I did not altogether like Elliston in _Wild Oats._ He made too many faces, and reminded me of the minor theatres, where grimace is in considerable request. Perhaps also, since the time I fell in love with him in _The Honeymoon_, he was all the worse for having presided over a small theatre as manager for several years. He joined us after the play, and being tipsy, which is generally the case with him, I thought him very pleasant, although as I have since discovered there is not a heavier, more matter-of-fact, stupid companion on earth than Elliston, when he is sober. I asked George Lamb if he had heard Mr. Livius's new piece. "Part of it only; but, from what I saw, I think it must be a very lively _petite comédie,_" answered Lamb. Elliston made very free with us all, and especially with George Lamb. As soon as the curtain dropped and we were all seated in the carriage, Elliston got in a passion with Livius's coachman for not immediately moving on. "What the devil is the matter?" said he, "what detains your man? All this fuss about a rascally three hundred pound-house and not twenty carriages!" "I told you Munden's day was over, and that he would not fill the house, before you engaged him for to-night," said George Lamb. "I say," answered Elliston, "Munden would have filled the house if it had been a fine night." "Not he," said George Lamb, "your crownation might, but not Munden!" "Hold your tongue, you are a Whig," said Elliston; and George Lamb was silent, after a grunt. "But what in the name of the devil is your ass of a coachman keeping us here for?" said Elliston. "Why, Livius, I thought you piqued yourself on being at all times remarkably well appointed." Livius confessed he knew not what to make of it; and put out his head to inquire of his footman what was the reason of being kept stationary. The footman's voice was drowned by the vociferation of Elliston from the opposite window. "Where's Townsend, or any of the constables?" A constable approached the carriage. "Why the devil don't you manage better?" roared out Elliston; "why is the road blocked up in this manner?" "It is not blocked up at all, Mr. Elliston," answered the constable, "it's nothing in the world but the coachman as is so drunk, he can't sit on his box." "God bless my soul!" said Livius, and then he called out again to his footman to know what was the matter. The footman either could not or did not choose to explain. "Get you then on the box and drive us home, Jem," said Livius. No sooner said than done. Jem, having mounted the box, entreated his fellow servant to give up the reins. "Touch my honour, touch my life," said the coachman, who absolutely refused to part with the whip.