the island is incrusted with masses of rocks, covered with the orchilla weed; and the country has such an appearance of devastation, that I can compare it to nothing but a portion of the fragments of a broken-up world.

The little village to which our boatmen conducted us is the only town on the island. It was almost sunset when we landed. The Count was fatigued with the anxiety of the day and the disappointment which he bad suffered. One of the boatmen stepped on before to the town, and secured lodgings for us in one of the best cottages; and the Count, on reaching it, resolved to go to bed.

By some unaccountable sympathy, which I had never before experienced, I was seized, immediately on setting my foot on the shore, with a kind of superstitious dread, so truly awful, that no words can convey any notion of what I felt; and yet there was nothing in the appear. ance of the place to justify the indulgence of any fear. The sky at the time was as clear as crystal, and the sea as bright and calm as quicksilver;-the sun hung upon the verge of the horizon, and the boats were drawn close to the water's edge, preparatory to being launched after vespers. It was the moment when the labour of the landsmen is on the point of terminating, and the hazards of the smuggler and the fishermen are almost to commence. The women stood at their doors without their distaffs, and the children were wondering at their own shadows. lengthening as the sun declined.

The cottage in which we were to take up our abode, was recommended by an appearance of more industry among the inmates than any other in the place. The front of the house was attractively white-washed;— several articles for sale hung at the window, and on each side of the door stood casks of tunny-fish, caviare, and olives.

The island is inhabited chiefly by Corsican exiles and emigrants. Their way of life at the period of our visit was bold, restless, and piratical. Their leaders had borne a distinguished part in the patriotic exertions of Paoli:-they had descended from their ancient castles with a sounding tread and a lordly spirit. The failure of his enterprise scattered them and their followers. Some sought an asylum among rocks, and forests, and inaccessible fastnesses, and were necessitated to turn the swords which they had drawn to vindicate the liberties of their country, against their earliest friends and fellow-patriots for support. The eyes of history will never discover the atrocities that were then perpetrated in the woods and caverns of Corsica. Hundreds perished of hunger in the recesses of the mountains, and when the peasants yet happen to find a skeleton, they mourn as they commit it to the earth, and remember that their country was once animated with the spirit of freedom.

At the period of my visit to Maddalena with Count Waltzerstein, the troubled temper of the first refugees had subsided, and a sterner energy had succeeded to the zeal of patriotic enthusiasm. They treated the stranger with military frankness, and with hospitality, but among themselves acknowledged the restraint of no law; they were felons and criminals in action, desire and practice; but still their former habits lent an air of dignity to their manners, and depravity was so, universal, that it produced no feeling of repugnance among them to the greatest offenders.

When the Count had retired to rest, I went and sat down on a bench opposite to a cottage. By this time

the twilight had almost: faded from the sky; the breeze rose with fresh and delightful blandishments, and the stars sparkled as they shone out with extraordinary brilliancy.

While I was enjoying the freshness of the air and the beauty of the heavens, I heard at some distance on the shore, the sound of a flageolet played with exquisite sweetness and skill. I rose, and walked towards the spot whence the sound proceeded; but I had not advanced above a hundred yards, when I found myself bewildered among the masses of rock; and I sat down on a stone, content to listen to the melody which, wild and pathetic, came like the voice of an enchantress through the silence of the night.

The fancy unconsciously endeavours, in such situations, to form an image for itself to contemplate, and the character of the music led me to think, that the musician could be no other than some elegant youth, fallen from the fortunes of his fathers, and languishing over the recollection of departed hopes of glory and

renown.

While I was thus busy giving figures and features to this creation, the flageolet stopped suddenly, as if interrupted, and I heard a man hoarsely call from a short distance towards the musician, The voice that replied was clear and masculine, and appropriate to the image I had formed in my fancy. Almost in the same moment, I heard the rustle of some one passing near me, and on turning round, I saw a female form, within a few yards of the stone on which I was sitting, stoop to conceal herself.

The intruder approached close to the musician. I was not near enough to hear distinctly what passed, but there was a menace in the accents of the one, and subdued energy of remonstrance in those of the other. It

was a father and son.

Their altercation continued about ten minutes, and was ended by the old man calling with a deep and angry tone on Agatha, his daughter to come to him. She rose from her hiding-place and went towards him. A wild and piercing shriek announced that she had received a wound. A profound silence followed, and I heard something heavy plunged into the sea, which dashed against the rocks in a succession of low and sullen sounds.—I shuddered; no other sound arose but that of retiring footsteps, for the undulations of the -sea were all soon as hushed as oblivion.

The dawn of the morn now began to appear in the east. After waiting a few minutes; in a strange and indescribable state of mind approaching to horror, I returned to the cottage, unaccountably agitated with vague and hideous imaginings, The wild note of that shriek thrilled in my ear. The silence that followed was so hollow and inexplicable, that I could only ascribe it to mystery and guilt, while the dash of the water seemed expressive of some mournful acquiescence of Nature to the performance of a dreadful rite.

When I entered the cottage, Count Waltzerstein had risen, and supper was ready. He chided me for venturing out so late; but observing me pale and disturbed, he checked himself, and inquired if I was unwell. I had not courage to disclose to him the singular apprehension with which I had been seized, and I allowed him to think me really ill; by declining to eat,

While we were sitting at table, one of the Corsican exiles entered the shop, and inquired, in the same hoarse accents which interrupted the music, for an article he wished to purchase. The lamp on our table shone full on his face, and he stood nearly opposite me. He appeared to be about sixty years of age. His figure was naturally majestic, and it was rather crushed than decayed. His physiognomy was at once grim and sorrowful. He wore a red Barbaresque night-cap, and his flowing grey hair, hoary mustachios and eyebrows,the colour of his cap, and the dark bronze of his complexion, gave him a supernatural, a demoniacal appearance. He looked older than human nature ever attains with the possession of so much strength, and something wilder and worse than man.

The Count was greatly struck with his figure, and in a whisper, bade me look at him.

The Corsican overheard him, but without perhaps knowing what he said, and turned fiercely towards me. His eye caught mine. I thought of the frightful shriek, and the more tremendous silence, and he withdrew his eye, abashed and confounded. In a moment after he looked at me again, with an expression of such helpless grief, that my heart dissolved within me. A slight gleam of surprise, probably occasioned by my sympa thy, wavered over his features, and without taking the article he had come to purchase, he abruptly left the shop.

The moment he retired, Count Waltzerstein compared him to Thor, the Scandinavian god of vengeance, and entered into a description of the apparition so erudite and curious, that it would have passed for a masterpiece of genius in half the colleges and academies of Christendom.

6 Yes, Senor,' said our landlord, Baron Altarbro is a nobleman of an ancient and brave blood; but, like many other gallant chiefs, he is destined to pine like a felon in this miserable islet.'

Has he any family?' said I abruptly.

He has a son and a daughter,' replied the landlord, and he is the most unfortunate of fathers.'

.

That is but his common misfortune; there are many others as wretched in that respect as he is,' rejoined the landlord. But at that moment my tremor and horror increased to such a pitch, that I could not support myself at the table. The landlord happened to notice me, and stooped to offer me assistance. The Count ran to his trunk for a bottle of cordials, believing me very ill.

After tasting it, I went to bed, but I found it impossible to compose myself to sleep; when my eyes would have closed, my imagination grew more awake, and kept me in a state of restless ecstacy.

As soon as the daylight began to dawn, I quitted my bed, and, attracted by a kind of hideous fascination, walked towards the spot where I had stopped to listen to the music. I could not, however, again trace the path, but on the ledge of a rock which overhung the waves, I saw the flageolet lying in a pool of scattered .and clotted blood.

When I returned to the village, the Count was up, and irritably impatient to quit the island, for he too had passed an uncomfortable night, and our luggage was already embarked. On my inquiring for the Baron

Altarbro, the landlord told me that he had gone early that morning to one of the neighbouring islands; and before I had time to ask a second question, the Count hurried me into the boat.

'What a dismal place this is!' said he, as I sat down beside him, I am glad we are safe out of it.'

Has any thing unpleasant happened?'

'No,' was his reply; but I have been so low-spirited, that I believe there is some malignant demon in the air that puts bad thoughts into one's head. I have had such frightful dreams.'

6

Perhaps,' said I, scarcely aware of what I said, 'dreams may be owing to something in the state of the atmosphere.' The Count's eyes glistened with delight at the observation, and he related an interesting story, how a relation of his family, travelling in the Tyrol, once happened to stop at an obscure inn on the road, when he and two of his suite, who slept in the same apartment, dreamt that they were confined in an unwholesome sepulchre; and in the morning they learnt, with superstitious awe, that the landlady had died the preceding day, and that the corpse lay in an adjoining room, a proof, said the Count, that dreams, if they do not come from the air, are affected by something in it; for it was no doubt the ammonia of the dead body floating in the atmosphere of their apartment which occasioned the similarity of their dreams.

This observation was somewhat curious; and I could not help saying,—' But what could occasion the peculiar oppression of our spirits in the Island of Maddalena.'

After remaining nearly twelve months at Naples, the Count received letters from his father recalling him to Germany, and we set out for Rome. During the early stages of our journey, I paid but little attention to the various objects that usually interest travellers; and we had reached the borders of the Pontine marshes before I was aware that we had entered the papal territory. It was in the morning we passed those dreadful regions of agues and death. It was also the spring, and every thing in nature that could inspire cheerfulness presented itself to the eye. The flowers sprinkled with dew, and the bright verdure, with which the ground was overspread, seemed of an elysian beauty and freshness; but not the chirp of a single bird, nor the hum of an insect was heard, a few dumb butterflies here and there glided by, and as we advanced, even they disappeared, and all was silent.

About the fourth hour after mid-day we arrived in Rome. The heat was excessive, and my spirits were languid; in consequence of which, the celebrated objects which travellers regard with so much interest as they approach the everlasting city, lost on me their wonted influence. In a state of drowsy abstraction, I reached the house where lodgings had been previously engaged for us, without recollecting whether I had observed even the dome of St. Peter's. The Count went immediately to bed, but I was induced to accept of some refreshments which the servants offered.

The fatigue of the journey, the heat of the day, and the repast I had made, overwhelmed me with sleep. leant back on the sofa, and, unconscious of having closed my eyes, I saw the Count enter and seat himself opposite to me at the table between us. His countenance was cadaverously ghastly. He filled a glass of wine; but, in raising it to his lips, it fell from his hand, and the wine flowed along the floor. He looked as if he expected me to assist him, but I felt myself strangely unable. In this juncture a wild cry startled me, and I perceived I had been dreaming-the Count was not in the room, nor any wine on the floor.

The cry continued, and the noise and confusion in the house led me to inquire what was the matter. On opening the door for the purpose, I found our servants in the passage, who, immediately on seeing me, exclaimed with one voice, The Count is dead!'

It was even so: he had expired during the time I was asleep. Such apparitional coincidences are, I believe, not uncommon, and those who have a superstitious faith in them, would rather ascribe them to supernatural agency than to any physical impression on the senses, or to moral sympathy of any kind.

The preparations in the course of the evening for the Count's funeral, which the heat of the weather rendered immediately necessary, absorbed my whole mind, and prevented me from adverting to the forlorn condition into which the event had cast me.-I was an utter stranger in Rome, and all the money I possessed would not suffice for a week's expenditure. At night, when I had leisure to reflect on this, my spirits failed; my pillow burned beneath my head with anxiety, and I devised a thousand impracticable schemes to redeem myself from the thraldoms of poverty; but I was locked fast in the skeleton-embraces of the fiend.

The weather was extremely warm, and the air was heavy and stifling. The influence of night and the presence of death are apt to put ill thoughts into men's minds.

The murmur of my restlessness had been overheard by the domestics who watched the corpse. They took it into their heads that the Count had died of poison; they recollected some trifling dispute which I had with him on the road; they ascribed my lethargy, in the latter part of the journey, to the morose musings of revenge; in a word, they concluded that I had poisoned their master.

The first conception of this atrocious fancy startled them, they raised the whole house; they declared their suspicions; surgeons were sent for; the door of my chamber, in the same instant, was forced with a heavy beam, as if it had been doubly fortified within; and before I had time to utter a word, they seized me, and bound my hands behind. The confusion increased; the rumour of the murder reached the street, and the house was soon filled with the multitude.

In the meantime, conscious of my innocence, I preserved myself calm, but my equanimity was construed against me. At last the surgeons came, and the body was opened, and a quantity of mineral poison was found in the stomach. A horrible growl of rage was muttered by all present against me, as the police officers dragged me to prison; but I was neither agitated with dread, depressed with shame, nor affected with sorrow. I have rarely felt more self-possessed than when the jailer left me alone in the dungeon. I was in that high state of excitement, of which some men are conscious when they act their part well in difficult circumstances,

NO. XXXI.-VOL. III.

or find that they have reached the extremity of their fortunes.

The first reflection that occurred to me was, that the Count had committed suicide; but a moment's consideration convinced me that such a notion was most improbable. One of the officers, while I was considering this idea, returned to inform me that I was to be examined at an early hour in the morning.

It will be but a short business,' said he, for a quantity of the same poison found in the stomach has been discovered in your trunk.'

I was thunderstruck; and the officer seeing my consternation, regarded it as the confusion of guilt. But, without noticing the insolence of his exultation, I sat down on the floor, and steadily endeavoured to recollect which of the servants was likely to have stolen the poison, a particular preparation of antimony, that I had sometime before purchased for a chemical experiment. And I remembered that, on the evening prior to our departure from Naples, the phial in which it was contained had been left on the dressing table in my bed. room. It must then have been taken away, for my trunk was not opened after I had packed up that phial.

Failing to recollect any circumstance to attach suspicion to any particular individual, I had recourse to the unjustifiable alternative of conjecturing which of the servants was constitutionally most likely to have perpetrated the deed, and the idea of the Count's valet came frequently across my mind, in spite as it were of reason. Yet he was a young man of a singularly mild and agreeable physiognomy; of a disposition alert to serve, and altogether so different in countenance and conduct from the dark characteristics of a secret murderer, that I ought not to have suspected him. Nevertheless, his image so frequently recurred upon me, that it took possession of my mind.

Notwithstanding his prepossessing physiognomy, I then began to think that he was taciturn and unsocial, and that there was often a degree of embarrassment in his eye, which a stranger would have ascribed to diffidence; but which was never accompanied with the slightest confusion in the performance of any matter in which he, at the time, happened to be engaged. That peculiarity, I then recollected, had forcibly struck me when I first saw him, and at the time, I attributed it to the consciousness of having committed some fault, but the habit of daily intercourse wore away the first impression, and reconciled me to the secret perplexity of his look.

The whole night was spent in this course of intense meditation, till I became persuaded that Antonio (for But so he was called) had committed the murder. scarcely had I come to this conclusion, when, with one of the other servants, he was admitted into the dungeon.

His appearance acted upon me with the electricity of an insult. I leapt from the ground on which I had of been sitting, aud, in an agony I and rapture, rage grasped him by the throat, exclaiming, Wretch! what is this that you have done?'

His complexion, naturally pale, became of a gangrenous yellow, and, before I could 'master myself, he fainted. In the course of a few minutes, however, he recovered, and, to the utter amazement of his companion, confessed his guilt.

It is impossible to describe the tumult of feelings

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with which this disclosure shook me. I embraced the mysterious felon with an emotion like gratitude, for having redeemed me from an ignominious death. The noise brought in the jailer and several of his officers, to whom the discovery was announced; indeed the appearance of the assassin was almost sufficient of itself to attest the confession he had made; for he sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, with his head drooping on his breast, and his arms hanging listless.

The dungeon in which we then were belonged to one of the guard-houses of the Inquisition; and after Antonio had repeated his confession, the officers did not think it necessary to detain me; accordingly I returned to the hotel, and, exhausted by the intensity of my reflection, I felt myself so much fatigued that I went to bed, and slept upwards of twelve hours. Meanwhile Antonio had been carried before the tribunal, and having again acknowledged that he had administered the poison, was condemned to be executed next day.

This information, which I received on awakening, induced me to hasten to his prison. On approaching the door, a friar of a venerable aspect came out of the condemned cell. He held in his hand a lamp, which, flaring on his face, showed that he was profoundly affected by the result of his interview with the criminal. I bowed to him as he silently passed, and the jailer, who was at my side, said, He must have received some terrible confession; for, although he has attended the worst criminals, I never saw him so affected before.' On entering the cell I beheld, with astonishment, Antonio seated on the ground, bearing the same mild and prepossessing countenance, and contentedly eating his supper. In that same easy, comfortable state, he had laid open the dreadful secrets of his conscience to the friar.

I sat down opposite to him under a grated aperture in the wall, which admitted light. The setting sun shone horizontally into the dungeon, and the beams tinted the head of the criminal in such a manner as to give to his flat sweaty hair (for such it was) the appearance of glistening with supernatural fire. His complexion was colourless, and his eyes dull and glassy.

6 In the name of Heaven,' said I, what tempted you to poison the Count?'

He laid down a piece of bread, which he was in the act of raising towards his mouth, and laying the back of his right hand on his knee, placed the left in its place with a sort of emphatic negligence.

Did you never feel yourself,' said he, inclined to do any thing which you could not account for? Unless you have experienced that feeling, I can give you no explanation, nor why I feel no sorrow for what I have done.'

Is this your first crime, Antonio ?'

It is the only murder that I have committed,' said he, looking at me with a smile expressive of the remembrance of enjoyment; and, he added- I have long desired to gratify myself in that way.'

I sickened with horror at the manner and the expression of the demoniacal sentiment, and could not continue the conversation.

One night, while I was sitting alone in the room, a stranger, in the uniform of the army of the Cisalpine republic, came in. He was a fine manly figure, of a noble cast of countenance, and in his whole air and de

portment there was a Roman dignity that could not be seen without admiration. But he had not been above a minute or two in the room, when I felt myself fearfully affected, and the whole incident that had so powerfully agitated me in the island of Maddalena burst upon my mind. In the same moment the stranger began to hum the identical air which I had heard so exquisitely played on the flageolet. Suddenly he paused, and shuddered as with the emotion of some terrible recollection. I rose and went towards him, and, without being able to tell wherefore, said- Do not you come from the Island of Maddalena ?'

The look he gave me was terrific; but, subduing his feelings, he replied

No: I am a Corsican; but why do you ask if I am of Maddalena?' I then requested him to sit down with me; and I began to recount to him the story which I have already told you, when he abruptly started up and quitted the room. I could be under no mistake,-he was undoubtedly the son of the old and unfortunate baron.

Soon after this curious rencontre, I resolved to leave Paris and return to Italy. Of the money which I had received at Vienna for the journey, and a liberal present from the father of Count Waltzerstein, a considerable sum remained, but it could not last for ever; and in Paris I had no friends, while in Naples I was known to many persons who could assist me to obtain employ

ment.

I preferred for my route the road through Savoy; and in the course of the journey, after quitting France, I fell in with two Franciscan friars going to Turin, and we joined company. One of them was an old man, who had been invited to become superior of a monastery in the neighbourhood of that city, and was then on his way to take possession. Urged by the entreaties of that respectable ecclesiastic, and partly by my own reflections on the friendlessness of my condition, I was induced, after we reached the monastery, to assume the Franciscan habit, and to become a novice for several months, with the intention of professing myself a monk. But this design had scarcely been formed a week, when it began to be rumoured that Buonaparte intended to dissolve the monastic institutions of Italy. I, however, having been provided with the garb, continued to wear it.

One evening, as I was returning from Turin to the monastery, which stood at some distance from the city, I fell in with a numerous party of soldiers who had been wounded in a recent battle. This, with some general news that I had collected in the town, furnished topics in the refectory for conversation after supper; and while we were speaking, a message came from a house, not far from the convent, to request the superior to visit an officer whose wounds had suddenly assumed such an appearance, owing to the fatigues of his day's march, that it was feared he could not recover. My friendly old companion readily obeyed the summons, and I went with him.

The night was solemnly tranquil, the slightest sound was distinctly heard,-the lights of the city seemed to shine with more than common brilliancy, and the stars sparkled as it were with the intelligence of life as well as light.

On reaching the door, it was opened softly. A superfluous number of lamps and candles were burning in

almost every apartment, and an unusual splendour, but dull and mysterious, appeared throughout the whole house. The family spoke in whispers, and were answered by signs. It was evident that some catastrophe was going on.

We silently ascended the stairs. At the chamberdoor of the dying man, a tall and venerable old lady stood listening;-she was wrapped in a white mantle over a black dress, and, the folds being loosely drawn over her head, it had the appearance of a winding sheet, and gave to her withered and cadaverous features something wildly charnel and characteristic of the tomb. On seeing us approach, she raised her hand, and motioned us to go into the room.

On entering, we heard the patient breathing laboriously. His servant sat at a table near his pillow, with a crystal goblet of water in his hand. Observing us, he placed it on the table, and resigned his chair to the superior; one of the domestics, who had followed us into the room, at the same time set down a lamp.

I took a seat at the bottom of the bed, and instinctively drew the capuchin of my habit over my head. The old friar, in the mean time, was gently addressing himself to the patient, who was suffering excessively, and breathing with great pain, urging him to make his peace with Heaven, by confessing his sins.

'Heaven,' exclaimed the officer, already knows my sins, and I will not gratify your curiosity.'

You will permit me to pray for you,' said the superior. Do as you please, but it is of no use.'

The good and venerable ecclesiastic began in a soft, low, and pathetic voice, the orisons for the dying. Before he concluded, the dead-rattle was heard in the officer's throat. When the service was finished, the patient, whose fortitude seemed to be invulnerable, requested a drink. I lifted the glass with the water from the table, at the same moment the old monk raised the lamp, and as we bent to administer the drink, I threw back my capuchin. The dying man gazed at me, and in that instant I discovered in him the mysterious son of the Corsican baron. He wildly stretched out his hand, and grasping the holy brother by the arm, cried, Save me!' and expired.

Soon after that affair, the monasteries being dissolved, I threw aside my Franciscan garb, and went to Rome. For the causes and reasons already described, I had seen nothing of that famous city during my first visit. I now saw every thing, and, among others, a curious collection of bones ef the human leg, formed by a German doctor, for the purpose of instituting a new science, which he intended to call Skæliology. He had arranged them in what he denominated moral classes, and showed me the points by which they indicated the characters to which they belonged. The signs of the passions were plausibly pointed out; and he showed, on a thigh-joint, what he described as a most extraor dinary development of the index of delight.

I was in the act of taking the bone in my hand to examine it, when I was seized with the same inexplicable sort of tremor which I had experienced in Paris, at the time I first saw the Corsican officer in the coffeeroom, and the image of the murderer Antonio flashed upon my recollection.

This bone,' said I to the German, has been taken from a murderer's thigh. I knew the wretch, and his name was Antonio Scelerata.'

The doctor gazed at me with wonder and dread, and

NO, XXXI.-VOL. III.

then exclaimed, How can you know that? no one has before seen that bone. I bought the leg, and cleaned it myself; but it is unique, and I have not ventured to show it before, because I could not assign that conformation to any determinate class. But it is, as you say, the bone of an assassin who was executed for the murder of his master.'

[The above extract from Mr. Galts "Tales of the Lazaretto," has much didactic elegance and well supported interest, it appears to have been written to exemplify the theory of Godwin, that," there exist certain mysterious sympathies and analogies, drawing and attracting each to each, and fitting them to be respectively sources of human happiness, so there are antipathies and properties interchangably irreconcileable and destructive to each other, that fit one human being to be the source of another's misery."]

SONG.

FROM GOETHE.

KNOW'ST thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom?
Where the gold-orange glows in the deep thickets' gloom?
Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows,
And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose?
Know'st thou it?

Thither! O thither!

My dearest and kindest, with thee would I go !

Know'st thou the house, with its turrietted walls,
Where the chambers are glancing and vast are the halls?
Where the figures of marble look on me so mild,
As if thinking," Why thus did they use thee, poor child?"
Thither! O thither!

My guide and my guardian, with thee would I go!

Know'st thou the mountain, its cloud-covered arch,
Where the mules among mist o'er the wild torrent march?
In the clefts of it, dragons lie coil'd with their brood;
The rent crag rushes down, and above it the flood.
Know'st thou it?

Thither! O thither!
Our way leadeth: Father, O come let us go!

THE DRAMA.

66

That there is a degree of apathy on the part of the public, as well as incompetence in those who preside over the destinies of the Drama, with regard to its welfare, is we think nearer the true state of the case than the view which is taken of the subject by many a zealous upholder of one or other side of the question— such a one is continually met with, drawling out a Jeremiade on the fallen state of the Legitimate Drama," which he attributes either wholly to the woeful deficiency of taste "in this country," or the total incapacity of managers.-There are faults on both sides -this the reflecting, and unprejudiced, we doubt not, will admit, and while this is to be deplored, it should be the province of each to afford his aid to the reinstatement of theatrical affairs in their ancient glory.

The faults of management we cannot express in a shorter compass, or in a more pithy manner than in the words of a contemporary-in speaking of the two Patent Theatres, he says; "The Houses are too large; the rent is too high, the performers are too numerous; their salaries are in many cases too great; they are got up in too costly a manner; and the prices of admission are too high."

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