as this is hallowed ground," for the whole town has been running after this afterpiece. There are also the brilliant Mr. Jones, (an actor worth a whole dozen of would-be's,) and likewise the puissant Miss Foote, who perform in it; and I suppose they will forthwith apply to Sir Richard Birnie for a warrant to apprehend me should I criticize the play. But criticism must not necessarily glance from the performance to the performers. On the contrary, I am perfectly willing to suppose that but for these performers* the piece would not

* It would be unfair were I not also to speak of Fawcett's Sir Mark Chase. If, my Lord, you have ever seen the brother of Mr. of Summer Hill, (that hospitable sportsman-that terror of all the snipe, partridge, and woodcock for ten miles round,) you have seen Sir Mark Chase. I have seen no one who so strongly reminds me of this known character. He wears even the same dress, and like him, keeps open house to all who choose to enter. There is one thing performed by Fawcett in this character which is beyond any thing performed by either Mr. Jones or Miss Foote. (I humbly go down on my two bare knees, and ask pardon from mistress Maria Darlington for this want of gallantry.) I allude to the stamp, and accompanying "D me," which he gives when Highflyer runs away with his gun. This is done so excessively natural, so impromptu; that I do

have succeeded in the manner it has done. I have scarcely seen any piece which is so desti

not think I see him on the stage, but in a field where the fugitive has taken his piece and scampered over a hedge with it, which is too high for Sir Mark to get over. He also does another thing in the first act, excessively droll. I allude to the outrageous kiss which he gives Miss Foote when he first sees her. My Lord, here is an old man of fifty or sixty, and were you to see him give this loving smack, you would think the poor girl's lips were bit off! The instant he sees her -Whoop! he flings up his hands and he cocks up his legs (in true sportsmanlike style), and he makes into her arms like a young scamp of five and twenty! If the milliner of the aforesaid Mistress Darlington will look at the third finger of her left hand glove, she will perceive it most dreadfully torn, picked, and otherwise despitefully maltreated. When she tells "Selborne" that she will never either look at or speak to Alfred Highflyer (this is a sublime name, my Lord) any more, (for his defalcation in gallantry,) she catches hold of this unfortunate finger, and pulls, drags, and tears at it as if Highflyer himself was embodied in the said finger, and she was pecking at him. Now I do most humbly and dutifully submit that she might catch hold of and drag at the thumb, by way of variety. If it was not done with such scrupulous and conscientious regularity (Ecce studium !) every time she performs it, I should not notice it. I also have

tute of situation, (situation belongs to genuine comedy,) and which is so full of stage trick, (stage

another matter to notice, and it is my intention to by no means pass it over. There are two certain theatres in London, one of which is situated in Drury Lane, the other in Covent Garden; and at these two said theatres I have heard the same overtures and symphonies played two or three times over in the course of

a fortnight! Now this is " a wretched way to dole

out melody." When I go to a minor theatre I am prepared to see things on a minor scale; but when I go to a national theatre, I expect to see every thing on a proper and suitable scale. I do not blame the management for this, for they cannot well be aware of it, unless it were purposely mentioned to them; but it should be the business of the attendant of the orchestra to change the books at least twice a week, nor can I by any means suppose but that the music-room of two such theatres is well supplied with music. Now I know many who go to hear the music of the orchestra (and nothing can be more delightful when well performed) as much as to see the play. It may here be objected, that this kind of promiscuous playing might perhaps produce confusion, unless the pieces are previously practised. I instantly reply to this-let no one attempt to play in the orchestra of a national theatre unless he is perfect master of his instrument, and can play at sight. Shall I remark, en passent, that the tone (the reader will please distinguish between

trick belongs to farces and melodrames.) Almost every scene in it is forced; and for the purpose of dragging a smile from the lips of the audience, such an infinity of knickery knackery and stage

It

tone and execution) of the "first clarionet" at Covent Garden Theatre is one of the sweetest I ever heard. I however think that the bassoon playing might (in soft airs) be "emended." It was infinitely too loud in the latter bars of the accompaniment to "Home, sweet Home." The voice was drowned. I am always glad when I see manuscript music in an orchestra. speaks well for the leader; nor should I have the slightest objection to hear graces and cadenzas more frequently from the leaders of the national theatres. The execution of a Kiesewetter, and the articulation of a Mori are difficult to catch, but almost every man of taste can introduce these extra turns and graces. I have heard Barton (the most graceful bowhand I ever saw) run on a mile before his band, and come back again with perfect sangfroid. You will perhaps here enquire, how my memory can be so retentive of all these minutiæ ? If you ask me to philosophically account for it, I own I cannot do it. I can only say that the smallest defect, or the smallest beauty, in either acting or music, is indelibly impressed on my memory. And yet, there are hours when I would fain have a shorter and more oblivious memory. ments at times come blightingly across me,

Mo

"The weight of which I would fling aside for ever!"

trick is had recourse to, that I only wonder at the prolific invention which could have got up such a "charming variety." I may as well class this with another drama of buffoonery and nonsense, designated under the title of "Animal Magnetism." I suppose the authors of those pieces will get very angry and highly wrathful, if I denounce them as ridiculous and absurd. The press is open to them to confute me if they wish, but I must very broadly declare that the characters and the scenes in them have never been paralleled in nature. There is no person of taste that would not be offended at the buffoonery of the one and the insanity of the other. There is however one redeeming character in this last afterpiece-Sir Mark Chase. I may meet a hundred such characters as this in the world; but were I to meet a Highflyer in any respectable drawing-room I should instantly get up into some corner of the room, lest he should do detriment to my body corporate. Maria Darlington also comes in with a great white thing flying and flapping about her ears, and crowned with flowers unwreathed through her auburn locks, (I suppose to set off her pretty eyes,) and she forthwith doth chaunt a song to her" dearly beloved," and sings, and waltzes, and whirls him about like a top-he (the said