LETTERS ON THE NEW THEATRE. The in tention of the author in presenting these 'Letters' to the public was probably good; but that they will produce the desired effect is very much to be doubted. The consequence of their publication, so far from deterring the progress of the Tremont theatre or discouraging its proprietors, will, we think, incite them to new exertions, and act as a stimulus to their zeal. A few efforts on the plan of these let ters will gain new advocates for the cause of the drama, and give strength to the present ranks of its supporters. There is nothing like a little opposition to give popularity to a new project. It discloses at once the power of the parties pro and con; for not until there is a contrariety of interest, will the lukewarm and indifferent begin to take sides. The Letters' before us are written occasionally with much earnestness of feeling, an eminent degree of pomposity, and a large admixture of the lacka-daisical. The reasoning of the writer, when he pretends to reason,-has the appear. ance of soundness, but he seems to place more reliance on his appeals to the feelings, than on the strength of argument.

The author in his first essay, apostrophizes the proprietors of the new theatre as men of "patriotic and generous minds," and, in mu sical periods, tells us of the probable durability of the walls of the new edifice, and of the sound of viols which shall be heard within its doors. Then follows a passage which we quote, and recommend to Mr Pelby as a motto for his Proscenium.

"Here poetry shall carry its thrill through the soul, the art of mimicry make distant scenes and ages present, and genius and eloquence and grace exert their power. Here Apollo and the sacred Nine shall dwell, and the delighted crowd return and return to pay to them their willing evening sacrifice."

We are then told that there is in our com. munity "a growing disapprobation of the the atre," and that" within ten years the advance has been very perceptible." This we hold to be a mistake. There is no city in the Union where a well regulated theatre will meet with more ample support than in Boston. The frequent "disapprobation," expressed by the inhabitants of our city, has arisen in consequence of the very small amount of talent which has been found of late years in the reg ular companies that have figured on the Fede

ral Street boards. The crowds who, ten years ago, were in the constant habit of gracing the theatre with their presence, have abstained from an indulgence in their former recreation, because they have been almost insulted by the performances which, for several seasons past, have degenerated from bad to worse. At length, after submitting for two years to the futile efforts of a corps which would do little honor to the temporary platform of a country barn, they have determined to provide for themselves a rational and elegant amusement. We mean no disparagement to the individuals of the Federal street Company,-we speak of them only unitedly-as a body. For the talents of some of them we have entertained respect,-but, though it be true that "a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump," it is not true that two, three, or four comedians, though they are of sterling value, can redeem the failures of a score or two of boobies. But we are wandering from the business in hand.

Much stress is laid, by the author of these letters, on the cause sometimes assigned for supporting theatres, that they are schools for morality. Now, for our own part, we dissent altogether from those who look upon a play. house as an academy for moral instruction; to us, it seems neither more nor less than a place for refined enjoyment,-where we may find a temporary relaxation from the troubles and cares of the world. Like a gallery of paintings, or a collection of statuary, or a concert of music, it is a meet place of resort for those who would have the eye and ear gratified, when both are wearied with the confusion and noise of every-day business. Were not the subject one of too solemn a nature for the indulgence of levity, we should call it a piece of mere fudge, for the author of these 'Letters' to tell us that "the tragedy of Calvary" is never to be performed on the stage of the Tremont theatre. Pray, is he in the habit of hearing prayers offered, and sermons preached at Philosophical Lectures, or at the Athenæum Gallery, with which he is so much pleased? Does he not know that even these places are the resort of those who are in search of relief and gratification and variety? Will he pretend that by the spectacles presented to the eye, at the latter place, none but pure and holy feelings are excited? Has he never seen the groups of "sons," and "daughters" too, around the lascivious and half-naked picture

La Negligee? Or the gloating eyes that were admiring the Garden of Love and the Infant Cupids? Does he suppose, that even the splendid Ecce Homo, the numerous Madonnas, or the Penitent Magdalens,hung around the walls of the Athenæum Gallery, have a tendency to suppress the lighter feelings of the visitors? Why, then, does not his conscience smite him when he takes his children,-for he is a father, to the Exhibition room? But enough of this a gallery of paintings and a theatre are both places of amusement. We do not go to them for religious instruction,-that we find in our Bibles, and learn from the lips of our pastors; nor for confession and prayer, they are for the retirement of our closets,-for our secret communion with God.

We would ask this Father,' since his principal argument against the theatre is, that it is not a church, why not advise the merchant to erect a pulpit in his counting-room, and sing psalms while his vessels are unloading at the wharves? or petition to the Legislature to make it an indictable offence for the lawyer to commence his action without the Lord's pray. er? or urge the Medical Faculty to deprive that practitioner of his diploma who shall phlebotomize before he has read a homily?

In the second letter, page 6, we are told that one argument in favour of theatres is that "they are a necessary evil, and that it is better to go to them than to worse places " The author is mistaken. The theatre is not esteemed a necessary evil; it is regarded as a

their charities and thank God that they are not as other men.

We cannot but smile at the credulity displayed in our author's estimates of theatrical expenses. We fear he has been sadly hoaxed. People who have visited the Boston theatre for several years past, are inclined to believe that the stock of that concern is not such bad property, after all the noise, as it has been represented. The managers, notwithstanding their inattention to the wishes of the public, have been no losers by their bargain. When the average receipts of a theatre for one hundred and twenty nights are four hundred dollars, while the actual expenses of each night do not exceed two hundred and fifty dollars, it is no difficult task to calculate whether or not there is any gain to the parties concerned.

In concluding our notice, which we have unconsciously extended too far, we cannot but regret that the author of these letters should conceal himself under the general denomination of A Father.' In affairs of con sequence we generally want the name of some responsible person, for we can put but little trust in an anonymous publication. We should have been glad too, had these Letters' been exposed for sale; the distribution of them gratuitously, by night, does not look well. If the cause is good, come out in the open light of day.

RICHMOND.-There is something in the general appearance of this book that reminds us

be shut because it may tempt the frequenter to do evil, is as ridiculous as it would be to urge the discontinuance of the holy communion because a few miserable wretches have been known to leave the table of the Lord, their cheeks flushed with excess of wine, and their

eyes telling a tale the thought of which produ

ces a shudder of horror.

In the third letter, page 8, we are told that "there is not here, as in New York, a constantly changing population of thirty thousand strangers to support a theatre." No,--but there is a community whose taste is sufficiently cultivated to derive delight from witnessing the exhibitions of genius in the histrionic art; a community with confidence enough in their own established habits to have no fear of a theatre; a community whose indignation may be aroused by the maledictions heaped on them by a few who say to their neighbour "stand off, for I am holier than thou;" who proclaim their fasts and prayers by the sound of the trumpet, and, like the Pharisee of old, boast of

ing;-some remnant of that good old fashioned air which gives a charm to the novels of a former day. We do not mean that Richmond' is written in the spirit of imitation,far from it, but that he seems to have adopted the model of the older novelists. The au

thor is powerful and original in his manner of thinking, and in his developement of charac ter and incidents; and though he resorts for material only to the common affairs of life, yet he works these up with the hand of a master. The book before us will answer a better it will awaken some of the better feelings of purpose than that of wiling away an idle hour; our nature; it displays a capability in the author of humouring the fancy of his readers, and of adapting himself to their sad or merry moods, and what more can be wished in a tale of fiction?

"From grave to gay, from lively to severe," might well have been the motto of the vol umes.

duing to their contrast with the darker ele ments with which they were surrounded. Every thing, therefore, depended on Mr Kean's pitching the character, in the first in stance, in a high key, as he did Bajazet or Sir Giles Overreach, and sustaining it to the end by the force of passion-a task to which he is not now physically equal. He not only did not do this-he did nothing. From first to last his eye never brightened; his voice was never raised above its lowest level of croak; nor did he attempt one striking attitude or one piece of pantomimic action. Mr Wallack, in a judicious and delicate address, which he delivered at the close of the play, for the purpose of obtaining a new trial, acknowledged, on behalf of Mr Kean, that he had not done justice to the author, and cast the blame on his memory. That Mr Kean did not deliver a single speech correctly, and sometimes fell into ludicrous blunders, is perfectly true; but this was not the worst failure; for it signified little what Mr Kean said, as he was rarely audible beyond the first three benches of the pit. It was not so much the letter as the spirit that was wanting. In the first scene, he is informed that the lady who had been promised to him in marriage, and on whom he doted with Saracenic fervour, is destined for his rival-and an absolute paroxysm of rage is set down in the text -yet Mr. Kean talked as coolly as if nothing had happened; and when, in the next scene, the audience were informed that he was left

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weary with excess of rage," and "like a panting tiger," they began to doubt their ears. In the last act, when he has his enemy in his power, Ben Nazir is suddenly told that all his soldiers have deserted him-he pauses and asks, if the Christian king is gone too?-and hearing that he remains, exults in the pledge which he preserves-and yet here, with a situation so strongly marked, Mr Kean never raised his voice or moved a muscle. The effect of this lamentable apathy was not only to neutralize the principal part, but to render the plot, which was entirely animated by the fury of Ben Nazir, wholly untelligible, and to make the fears, sufferings, and gallantry of all the other persons, ridiculous. We, however, freely acquit Mr Kean of any intention "to play booty." He had, we know, expressed a high opinion of the part, and was sanguine as

to the impression he should make in it: he had prepared for it one of the most costly and tasteful dresses ever seen on the stage; and the play had been postponed once at his desire, in order that he might be able to perform with the more precision. But we take the melancholy truth to be, that Mr Kean, amidst the high excitements of his feverish career, its almost unequalled triumphs and unmerited reverses, has lost nearly all voluntary power. He is still able to play, with considerable effect, some of his old parts, where an immediate impulse only is required; but in the present state of his health and spirits, he cannot embody a new character.

PUNCH. Every body knows Macbeth's receipt for dressing a beef-steak :— If it were done, when 'tis done, then "twere well

It were done quickly.

But few people are aware that Prospero has given an equally good receipt for making punch. After detailing the early processes, he likens the bowl to "the great globe itself," and says that

All which it inherits shall dissolve. But the most important direction is the warning not to omit the arrack-"Leave not," says he emphatically,

Leave not arrack behind!

RUSSIAN POET. The most popular poet of Russia, at the present moment, is Alexander Pouschkina; he is about 26 years of age. He commenced his career at the age of 14, and in his 19th year wrote a celebrated poem called Rouslan and Ludmilla.

A TOUCH AT THE SUBLIME. The Hon. F. De Roos relates the following anecdote in his American travels. He was sitting by moonlight on the brink of Niagara, gazing at the wonders of the place until his senses seemed absorbed in contemplation. "While reflecting," says he, "upon the inadequacy of language to describe the wonders which I surveyed, an American gentleman, to my great amusement, tapped me on the shoulder, and 'guessed' that it was pretty droll! It was difficult to avoid laughing in his face,-yet I could not help envying him his vocabulary, which had so eloquently released me from my dilemma."