ricatures, are daily becoming less numerous in English society. Civilization is gradually banishing that affected humour which furnished Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, and even more modern writers, with so many extravagant but natural characters.*

But I must now suspend my remarks on plays until I visit the theatres, where I shall, of course, have an opportunity of judging of the most recent productions of the English stage. I think, Sir, you cannot but admit, that I have made sufficient concessions to your rigidly classic taste; yet I nevertheless feel it necessary to entreat your indulgence in favour of a young author, who, though fully aware of the dexterity with which you can ward off a jest, has ventured to give you the surname of the fossil man of literature.

LETTER XXIX.

TO GENERAL BEAUVAIS.

MY DEAR GENERAL,

I AM about to give you an account of my visit to Drury Lane Theatre. But you must first

*There is no treatise on English rhetoric which does not contain a definition of humour. Professor Millar, of Glasgow, who has written a long dissertation on English gaiety, appears to me to have defined it more satisfactorily than any previous writer. I have to regret that I did not read Professor Millar's chapter on tragedy until after I had finished this letter.

submit to be conducted through the pressure and tumult of the crowd, which we had to encounter ere we could gain admittance.

In the morning we read the play-bill, which was suspended from a leg of mutton in a butcher's shop; and I purchased a sort of bulletin, which is sold for twopence by men who station themselves in the Strand, holding long poles with placards affixed to them, announcing that they have dramatic journals to sell. This little bulletin contains the names of all the performers, and the characters they are to represent. The distribution of the parts fills the first page, and the second is occupied by a short criticism on the performance of the preceding evening. These articles do not, certainly, equal those of Geoffroi, or our friend M. Duviquet; yet I shall read them whenever I propose visiting the theatre. They will help my memory, if not my judgment. We perceived in Brydges-street a very gloomy edifice, the front of which is half concealed by a peristyle surmounted by a statue of Shakspeare, if, indeed, I may apply the term peristyle to a sort of pent-house, intended to shelter from the rain persons who go to the theatre in carriages. We took a hasty glance at the principal entrance, which leads through a range of doric columns to a circular hall called the rotunda, and we entered by a narrow passage a lateral vestibule, which conducts to the pit. The inner door was not opened when we arrived, but a crowd had already collected. The name of Kean in the play-bill is as powerful a talisman

here, as the name of Talma in the Rue Richelieu. The crowd continued increasing round the door, and Henry B, who accompanied us, smiled to see Alexandre and I ranging ourselves so as to file in in regular order. "Oh! you must dispense with that sort of ceremony," said he; "we must consign ourselves to the mercy of the crowd at our backs, and we shall soon be carried in at the door, which, at first will only be partly opened." Fortunately, I knew by experience that the sharp points of my elbows are excellent defensive weapons in a crowd. To stand for an hour at the door of a theatre, is always to me a severe trial of patience. Alexandre, who often complains of his embonpoint, was not better satisfied with his situation than myself, and he began wiping his face with his handkerchief. B—, who is in the habit of mingling with the crowds who thus besiege the theatre doors, after examining the countenances of the persons who were about us, desired us to move a little on one side. He was about to explain to us his reasons for so doing, when some one exclaimed in a loud voice, "Ladies and gentlemen take care of your pockets!" Certainly," said I, "this advice is charitable, but not very polite. Every one must suspect that he is standing beside a thief, while, at the same time, his own looks and motions may be wrongly interpreted." "It is the police officers," replied B, "who give this warning. They know all the pick-pockets, and when they see them they call out." "But when

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they see them, why not take them into custody?" inquired I. "That idea is truly French," said B

"but a pick-pocket has as much right to come to the theatre as you and I, and, when you find his hand in your pocket, it is time enough to have him taken into custody."

We

At this moment the door was suddenly opened, or rather half opened. There arose a confused noise like the distant roaring of the sea, occasionally mingled with loud complaints and threats. were among the number who first effected an entrance, and we left behind us women struggling and shrieking, and men quarrelling and contending with each other. A gratis representation in Paris, is the only thing which can afford any idea of the scene we witnessed.

On paying the price of admittance, which is three shillings and sixpence, we each received a little metal ticket, called a check, which passed us to the pit. We entered a spacious area of nearly a circular form, tastefully decorated and lighted by an elegant lustre, which, along with a blaze of light, emits a disagreeable smell of hydrogen gas, if I may be allowed to say so without offence to those who defend the plan of lighting by gas as the most perfect of all liberal ideas. We stationed ourselves near the orchestra, which is exclusively destined for the musicians, and seated ourselves beside a few of the women who had succeeded in gaining an entrance, and who, from their simple and decorous style of dress, evidently belonged to the middle class.

"The company," said B-, "in those three tiers of boxes immediately above the pit, is of a very mixed nature. Those tiers are frequently filled with persons who come in with free admissions, and, with the exception of a few private boxes on each side, they are open to ladies of equivocal character. Some of these nights we will go and take a peep into the lobbies and saloons, where, to the credit of English morality, you may fancy yourself in the arcades of your Palais Royal. I have no doubt that the annoyance of such disagreeable company contributes very much to deter respectable families from attending our theatres.

We

have but few private boxes, and in the public ones, as soon as the first act of the performance is ended, every individual has a right to claim a place."

"It strikes me as very extraordinary," said I, "that the English ladies, with all their propriety of feeling, do not make a point of adopting a modest style of dress, which would distinguish them from those females who attend the theatre only for the purpose of exhibiting themselves. For instance, look at that family in the box to our left. The old lady, I think, sets a very odd example to her daughters, in the display she makes of her wrinkled neck and shoulders. Look at those two ladies, also, in the next box but one, who are glittering in jewels! I really think poor King Richard must have enough to do, in the midst of such attractions, to confine his attention to his part. Again, on the opposite side * * *"