have passed away before him; and he himself, "not old enough to die," has long since set out on our last pilgrimage, to join, it is hoped, the amiable partner whose death had some time preceded his own. his Mr. Price succeeded Mr. Elliston, and in addition to the advantage of a long experience in stage matters, received as a bonus the sum of £.2000, deposited in the hands of the committee by my friend Mr. Bish, who, on relinquishing his intention of becoming their lessee, generously gave up this sum to * successor. Mr. Price may be considered by his detractors as not having had a general knowledge of the London Stage, or a sufficient intimacy with the peculiarities of a London audience; yet it must be admitted that his management was characterized by spirit, by the selection of an excellent company, and by the appointment of able officers. If in a too sanguine moment he was tempted to do what turned out an error, he was ever ready with corresponding decision to redeem it-an observation exemplified by the fact of his having (at a period when a great dearth of talent prevailed and the revolution of the performers had begun) engaged Mr. Macready at a salary of 201. per night. Finding however, that he did not individually attract as many shillings, that the plays in which he was compelled to introduce him possessed no magnetic qualities, except in the hands of such a genius as Mr. Kean, and that putting him into new plays only brought upon the treasury the additional burden of authorship and outlay, without any corresponding return, he cancelled his engagement sixteen nights before its expiration, by paying him twenty times as many pounds-3207.! a tolerable sacrifice to get rid of a bad bargain. Throughout his arduous career, Mr. Price made every possible effort to uphold the drama, as the uniting Messrs. Kean and Young in tragedy, and Messrs. Liston and Mathews in comedy (not to name other enterprises,) amply testify: but he subsequently counterbalanced all such praiseworthy performance, by becoming, since his secession from Drury Lane theatre, one of the most formidable enemies that the due cultivation of the *The committee at first seemed bent upon compelling Mr. Bish to fulfil his agreement; which circumstance coupled with the fact of his having a little before lost his seat in Parliament, on the ground of his being a contractor, gave rise to the following clever jeu d'esprit, told me at the time, without the name of the author: With his "Houses" Tom Bish has had luck, there's no doubt of, drama in England has had to contend with. In his capacity of proprietor of the Park Theatre, New York, he has lured away to the shores of America every performer of any distinction, (and what is of equal importance-utility,) whom gold could tempt, or speculation seduce. He is perfectly right in so doing, and any man far less gifted with vous than he is, would have done the same; but that does not alter the fact. None but those who have experienced it can tell the inconvenience theatres of this magnitude suffer by the abduction of performers apparently of an inferior grade, who have enacted a given line of business for a series of years, and have thereby become the very movers of the machine. Accustomed to play nightly in every piece, and playing many parts in most of them, they are the chief reliance of a theatre in any of the numerous dilemmas in which circumstances involve it. In the same ratio they must be of the utmost importance to the transatlantic stage, and are worth any reasonble sum that can be given for them. It may appear ridiculous, on the first mention of it, but the secession of such utilitarians as John Cooper,* or the late octogenarian Powell, has caused incalculable trouble for the time to the theatre in which they were engaged. From being habituated all their lives to the performance of the entire range of the drama, and being equally good, or bad as it may be, in one part as in another, they might be applied to in all times of difficulty; and from having a quick study in learning, and laying claim to the almost greater advantage of not forgetting, they might at all times be depended upon. Powell's faculty of retention in particular characters was so great, that all the blunders of those with whom he happened to perform, could never cause him to make a blunder himself. Whether he received a right cue from the speaker to whom he had to reply, or not, was to him a matter of perfect indifference he would give the answer set down in the text, without deviating to the right, or to the left.† This is * He belongs to a class of actors to whom all passion or feeling comes alike, and who are admirably hit off in the "Familiar Epistles:" "Would he display the greatest wo, He slaps his breast, and points his toe; He points his toe, and slaps his breast!" † A curious instance of this occurred some years ago, at the termination of the tragedy of Richard the Third. Mr. Elliston was enacting the part of Richmond; and, having during the evening disobeyed the injunction which the King of Denmark lays down to his Queen," Gertrude, do not drink," he accosted Mr. Powell, who was personating Lord Stan THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 41 carrying utility to a great extreme, no doubt; but it exemplifies how far the force of habit will go. Such men as these we cannot afford to lose; and when in addition to many of that class, Mr. Price, as stated, has from time to time transported nearly all the leading performers of the day, the usual difficulties attendant upon management at home have become of course thereby materially increased. As the management of Mr. Macready will, in its proper place, require exclusive consideration, it were a task of supererogation to anatomize the merits or demerits of others who have at various times filled the managerial chairs of the two principal London Theatres. Their names, in some instances furnish testimony for the possession of superior abilities, and bear out the fact that, in their respective failures, the fault did not rest solely with themselves. It will be the province at all events of one of them, to inquire into causes, after having stated effects. Theatres, their directors, and all persons employed in them, are considered, by some people, public property to a much greater extent than they really are-neither the spectator nor the critic having actually any right to inquire into their doings, beyond an unprejudiced notice of what transpires before the curtain. The circulation of idle rumours, the assertion of ridiculous falsehoods, and the garbled statement of facts, indulged in by thousands, respecting the movements of the theatrical community, is more prejudicial to the cause of the drama and the character of its professors, than the inventors or promulgators can imagine, or are inclined to believe. I have frequently taken up a newspaper, containing a column of gossip stated to be replete with "Dramatic intelligence," in which there has not been one word of truth from the first to the last syllable-have read criticisms on performances that never took place, and heard discussions on the private characters of artistes, with whom the disputants had no acquaintance, and of whom they subsequently admitted that they had not the slightest knowledge. No other avocation, however public, is exposed to the same injurious and absurd practice, it is fair to presume, ley (for the safety of whose son Richmond is naturally anxious) THUS, on his entry after the issue of the battle : ELLISTON (as Richmond.) Your son, George Stanley, is he dead? POWELL (as Lord Stanley.) He is, my Lord, and safe in Leicester town! ELLISTON (as Richmond.) I mean,-ah!-is he missing? POWELL (as Lord Stanley.) He is, my Lord, and safe in Leicester town!! And it is but justice to the memory of this punctilious veteran, to say, that he would have made the same reply to any question which could, at that particular moment, have been put to him. 42 INDIFFERENCE TO THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS. as there is none other so little regulated by any defined principle, or so generally unprotected by the laws which govern the rest of the world. How long I may entertain my present feeling, it is not for me to determine; but I can conscientiously say, that when I vacated the managerial chair of Drury Lane theatre, I forcibly felt the truth of Sir Robert Walpole's remark to his medical adviser, on whom he had just conferred an essential favour. "Sir Robert!" said the Doctor, "I am as happy, as if I was a King!”. "And I," rejoined Sir Robert, as he shook the Doctor cordially by the hand," and I-as if I wasn't a Minister." CHAPTER II. Indifference of the public to theatrical amusements-Advantages possessed by the Foreign stage-Consequent cultivation of the art-A few singers do not constitute an Opera-Difficulties under which the large theatres labour-Folly of reduced prices-Necessity of reduced salaries-Lord Chamberlain-Difference between authority and oppression-Sir E. L. Bulwer and the Marquis Conyngham-Licenses to be had for asking-Hardship on the Haymarket theatre complained of by the manager to the public-The Duke of Sussex's opinion of the proper support of the London Stage. It will naturally be inferred, from several observations in the preceding chapter, that the principal cause of the failure of the two National Theatres is attributable rather to a want of patronage on the part of the public, than to any want of ability, or spirit, on the part of those who have hitherto had the management of them. There cannot, to speak generally, be a question of it. The magnitude of these buildings has very reasonably been urged as another cause, and such is the case; but that admission only resolves itself, as an additional reason, into the one grand point alluded to. Where there is a possibility in this country of maintaining and upholding Drury Lane and Covent Garden theatres, in the manner they ought to be maintained and upheld, there cannnot be a doubt that the importance of the empire, and its character for profuse expenditure and liberal patronage, would justify the erection of two such dramatic temples. But we are an untheatrical people, and consequently when we support those establishments, it is not through any love of the art or profession practised within them, but from extraneousex citement held out to us as a temptation to enter them. We contribute nothing towards the advancement of the drama, beyond the occasional price of admission to one or other of its arenas; we do not subscribe to the necessities of any of its professors, beyond the trifling sums collected annually at the Fund Dinners, to which, as visiters, we are rather attracted by the charms of a good dinner and subsequent entertainment, than by any great consideration for the more immediate object of those meetings. Contrast the position of the principal theatres in most other countries with their station here, and little farther argument will be necessary to prove what I have advanced. The character of the English people differs very materially from that of almost every other European power in this particular. The maintenance of a well conducted stage is a state affair with most continental cabinets: and when in addition to the support derived from the respective governments, the general animus of the people is taken into consideration, we cease to wonder that the foreign stage has produced such eminent artistes. I, for one, do not think it compatible with the disposition of this country, that its places of public entertainment should be upheld by any grant from Government, nor that any of the leading professors should figure on the Pension List; but it is nevertheless true, that if such were the case, we should not complain as we do, of the great dearth of dramatic talent. There are many to be found who would rather see a few thousands bestowed on the cultivation of the tragic muse, than squandered on the worthless inutilities of public pageantry; but the general sense of the people would decidedly be opposed to any such payments. In countries where this aid is given, the public feeling is of an essentially dramatic tendency. Take for example France, Italy, and Germany, as forming the most enlightened portion of Europe, and in all the principal cities-certainly in the capitals of those dominions; this will he found to be the case. In Paris, the Académie Royale, the Théâtre Français, the Opéra Italien, and the Opéra Comique, have each an allowance from the government. The first receives no less a sum, per annum than 800,000 francs (32,0007.) and the gratuitous use of the theatre besides an amount, taken together, equal to the ordinary receipts for an entire season at either of our principal theatres; and after a certain period of service, its leading performers have a handsome retiring pension from the state, and their latter days are not subject to the limited means of a Theatrical Fund. With such a prospect as this before them, the parents of a promising child are induced to expend liberally on education, in those various branches of art and accomplishment, considered as necessary qualifications. With a knowledge that such brilliant |