immoralities which had so long disgraced it. "The purity of the English stage (says Cumberland) was certainly much more fully established during the administration of this theatrical minister, than it had been during preceding managements; for what the public taste had itself in some measure begun, he, by keeping that taste within its proper channel, and feeding it with a pure and untainted stream, seemed to have completed."

In 1761, Rich, the manager of Covent Garden Theatre, died, and left the business of it to be conducted by his son-in-law, who introduced several musical pieces on the stage, which gave great satisfaction. Disputes continued amongst different managers, but as these playhouse squabbles are of no interest whatever, I will omit any notice of them. In '91, Old Drury was pulled down, and another rebuilt on the site. The new house was opened with a selection of sacred music, and soon afterwards for the performance of dramatic pieces

In 1808, the theatre of Covent Garden, and in 1809, that of Drury-Lane were burnt down, and in a few years reappeared with infinitely more splendour than before. In a few minutes the whole building was involved in the tremendous conflagration-and soon the destructive element reduced this elegant structure to a heap of ruins. The total loss was estimated at 300,000! The prices of admission to the rit and boxes having been augmented, there were

continual riots for a couple of months, till the price was reduced; this disturbance is known in dramatic history by the name of the O. P. (old price) war. It excited considerable interest at the time, and called forth the exertions of the motley host of scribblers on both sides of the question.

In drawing this sketch of the history of the British stage, I have said very little on the vicissitudes of dramatic genius in England. On this subject, I shall content myself with transcribing the following elegant and vigorous passage from the Postscript to Walpole's Mysterious Mother: "Theatric genius lay dormant after Shakspeare;-waked with some bold and glorious, but irregular, and often ridiculous flights in Dryden;-revived in Otway;-maintained a placid, pleasing kind of dignity in Rowe, and even shone in his Jane Shore. It trode in sublime and classic fetters in Cato, but was void of nature, or the power of affecting the passions. In Southern, it seemed a ray of Nature and Shakspeare, but falling on an age still more Hottentot, was stifled in those gross and barbarous productions-tragi comedies.It turned to tuneful nonsense in the Mourning Bride; grew stark mad in Lee, whose cloak, a little the worse for wear, fell on Young, but with both was still a poet's cloak. It recovered its senses in Hughes and Fenton, who were afraid it should relapse, and accordingly kept it down with a timid and amiable hand; and then it languished."

The Royal Theatres are most gorgeously rich and magnificent, and are illuminated in the most splendid style that can be imagined; the dazzling profusion of gilding, the elegance of the decorations, and the variety of superb dresses and jewels which sparkle in the fashionable boxes, produce a very grand and imposing effect. But this excessive glitter and display, and, above all, the vivid illumination produced by the lustre and lamps, diminishes the illusion which the exhibition on the stage is intended to produce. In the Continental theatres, all the splendid arrangement is reserved for the stage, while the audience are enveloped in a sheet of dim and softened gloom, which hushes all the senses, and prepares them for the impressions which the performance and scenery make on them. When the curtain rises, in the French and Italian theatres, it seems as if the veil which separates this dull world from the glories of Heaven, were suddenly drawn up: a flood of splendour spreads upon the stage and those who tread it, and the audience, in breathless silence, concen→ trate all their attention on the dramatic exhibition.

In Drury-Lane and Covent-Garden Theatres, the illumination proceeds from a blazing constellation suspended from the roof; the lustre appears like a congeries of orbs of glowing flame, all blended into one large sun too intolerably splendid to be gazed on. This atmosphere of radiance, prevents the concentration

of any tolerable degree of light on the stage, and as every face in the audience is seen as distinctly as in the glare of open day, the attention is constantly drawn from the performance, to the more magnificent display in the boxes.

The interior curtains of these theatres are painted with great beauty and elegance; but I observed with disgust, on that of Covent-Garden, a representation of the flags of several nations that Britain pretends to have conquered. Among others, the "thirteen stars" are drooping with the rest of the vanquished! This is a very pitiful way of showing national pride. In 1814, a sham sea fight was displayed before the Royal visiters, on the basin at Hyde Park: The engagement was between the Americans and British, and the former were, of course, completely vanquished. However, since they can conquer us in no other way, it would be hard to deprive them of the pleasure of putting us to the rout in the middle of London! The Sovereigns were no doubt sincerely convinced, by this exhibition, of the vast superiority which the British navv possesses over ours!

The theatres in Paris present to the stranger a very favourable aspect of French character: the audience uniformly conduct themselves with perfect decorum; they are always attentive to the piece represented, and are seldom disturbed by late fashionable intrusions in the boxes, slamming of doors, &c. In London, the riot and noise are frequently so great, that

the actors have often to stop short, in the middle of a long-winded speech:* a few nights ago, a fellow in the gallery set up a tune on a fife, during a very affecting scene! Persons in the pit are liable to have their sculls demolished by the missiles hurled from the upper parts of the theatre; and the ladies in the boxes have their clothes soiled by the filthy articles showered on them by the gods! In the amusing volume of Rejected Addresses, is the following ludicrous description of the descent of a playbill from the upper boxes:

"Some giggling daughter of the Queen of Love
Drops, 'reft of pin, her play-bill from above;
Like Icarus, while laughing galleries clap,
Soars, ducks and dives in air the printed scrap:
But, wiser far than he, combustion fears,
And, as it flies, eludes the chandeliers,
Till sinking gradual, with repeated twirl,
It settles, curling, on a fiddler's curl;

Who from his powder'd pate th' intruder strikes,
And, for mere malice, sticks it on the spikes!"

The despicable scenes of vile comedy, with which some of the best English play-writers have diversified their tragic action, have drawn the contempt of foreigners on the British dra

* Jonathan Kentucky observes that "the worst objection to the theatres in their present state, is the lobbies. The open and flagrant violation of all the decencies of life, as well as all the laws of morality, in the shameless scenes which are nightly exhibited in these licensed stews, are disgraceful to a nation which affects to arrogate to itself a moral superiority over the rest of the world, and are certainly sufficient to scare away any modest woman belonging to another country, who is not a native here and to the manner born." "