lost nothing by being seen again, as the loss in novelty was made up in skill, for it certainly attracted no diminished applause. The popularity into which Plays of this order are rising is not only an evidence of the improved taste of the people, but it is obviously an improvement of the stage. For the gross ness and rusticity of theatrical writing at the beginning of the last century, and for its common-place and affectation from that period to the beginning of the present, we are now indulging in manly description, natural feeling, and historical remembrance. This selfcongratulation must, it is true, not grow suddenly too ardent, for there still is a great deal to be cleared away, and a vast and formidable vacancy to be filled. But the first prognostic of a salutary change in the theatrical constitution has been exhibited, the lovers of the drama have shewn that they can enjoy it more fully as it becomes more natural, vigorous, and graceful, and we may not despair of seeing authorship solicit public favour in the same spirit in which it has thus been already obtained. A single novelist has palpably given a new life, form, and principle, to novel writing; it would be an honour equally rare and distinguished if the same mind were to resuscitate the stage. Our attention was peculiarly led to an improvement of another species rather more mechanical, but not without its interest or value the ventilation of the house. We all know the importance of air to respiration, but the importance of fresh air, a continually supplied recruitment of the volume breathed, has yet to be fully appreciated. The disappearance of disease is sometimes among the teachers of the modes in which it has been habitually imbibed, and if the fortunate period is to arrive when our places of public assemblage cease to assist in the proverbial mortality of great cities, we shall be closer to the discovery of the dangers with which they were once impregnated, of their retention of miasmata, of their propagation of fatal in fluences by the air expired by one afflicted and broken frame, only to be received by the next in full health, and lay the ground of decay. If those influences are likely to act, or act with fearful venom any where, it must be in theatres. The long period of remain ing together, the close pressure, the multitude of the audience, the usual

bodily warmth from the mere agitation and haste of the previous walk, the eagerness to secure a seat, the mutual excitements of mind and body in the progress of an interesting play, all combined, however separately trifling, make up a singularly dangerous disposition to contagious influence. Expedients to obviate the evil have been long and variously tried, but on too contracted a scale, and with a spirit too local to deserve the name of remedy. A man of science, and we believe of philanthrophy, has at length come forward, and we have to announce that the ventilation of Theatres is about to be established on principles which will greatly diminish, if not totally destroy, the infection of confined, exhausted, and polluted air. The process has been on trial, though partially, from the commencement of the season at CoventGarden Theatre. This evening it was extended to the original wish of the inventor, and so far as we could ascer tain from our own sensations, succeeded. One of the objects is to make a total change in the atmosphere of the house in from every five to ten minutes; the other is to keep this large and rapidly-changed body of air at an agreeable and uniform temperature; the latter was of course more within our observation.-By thermometers in different parts of the Theatre, it was proved that the heat did not accumulate, though in a closely-crowded house, beyond 70. scarcely more than the open air temperature of a mild spring day. In the hottest period of the night, which may generally be taken about nine o'clock, the thermometer in the one shilling galery stood at 70, in the two shilling at 64. It is difficult to look upon this invention without urging it into consequences and successes which it is, at least, to be hoped it may attain. May it not yet give us the power of expelling infection from all places where the disease is sustained or propagated by the most fluctuating, perhaps the most subtle and connected with life, of all the elements ;-may it not take health into prisons and the depth of mines; may it not, as its humblest triumph, free us from the smoke that fills our lungs with sulphur and covers our skies with blackness; or may it not, in the progress of its greater discovery, at length ameliorate our climate, or provide us with some powerful agent against its inclemency.-Those specu

MARCH 2.-Since our last notice of the entertainments at this popular Thea tre, the performances have been exclusively devoted to benefits, and consequently excluded by critical usage, from critical remark. On this evening the house closed, with the Proprietor's night, when after the fall of the curtain on the second piece, Mr. T. DIBDIN came forward, and addressed the audience in the following appropriate terms of acknowledgment.

"Ladies and Gentlemen,

"After a season of nine weeks, in which we have produced eight successful pieces, I have again to thank you for continued and increased patronage; the sincerity of my acknowledgments will be best proved by the use we shall make of the short vacation between this and Easter, for your future entertainment, and improved accommodation.

"Several additional performers of celebrity are already engaged, and the scenery and embellishments of our opening novelties are in forward prepara

tion.

"Permit me in your presence once more to thank all my friends behind the scenes, for their valuable and unanimous support, which has enabled me to render this house worthy your protection, and in the name of those performers and my own, till we have the honour of

THEATRE.

meeting you again at Easter; I beg leave most respectfully to say, FAREWELL!"

MARCH 23-Easter Monday being the annual period of re-opening the summer Theatres, the doors of this house were on this evening again thrown open to the public, and in the brief space of only nineteen days, during which they have been closed, an entirely nouvelle appearance has been given to the whole of the interior, where both the taste and expedition of Aladdin's genii of the lamp, seem to have been in requisition. The box fronts are painted a marine blue, with silver net work, relieved by classical groups of figures in fresco. The interiors of the boxes are of a bright rose-colour,new draperies are added to the proscenium, &c. and the box cushions are newly stuffed and covered. The exterior of the Theatre has also been entirely re-painted, and the efforts thus made to deserve the public patronage, will, we have no doubt, secure it. The opening pieces were a new Ballet, and a new Burletta founded on Smollet's celebrated novel of "Sir Launcelot Greaves," in which the scenes of the novellist have been successfully transported to the stage, and have afforded new opportunities to the public favorites at this Theatre, to display their varieties of talent, in characters well suited to call them forth. The splendid

Melo-drame of " The Three Talismans." also fully realised the expectations which it had previously excited. and contributed in no slight degree to the

amusement of the crowded audience assembled to celebrate their Easter holidays.

MARCH 23. This established place of entertainment was opened for the season this evening, when a number of beautiful horses which belonged to Mr. Davis's Stud were added to the cquestrian department, with the accession of some new performers of considerable note. Amongst the novelties of the evening was a comic Pantomime, from The Arabian Nights, called the The Enchanted Horse, written by Mr. W. Barrymore. Young Jones, (from the Sans Pareil) was well received as Clown; and also Miss Burrell, as guardian of the Enchanted Horse. Several splendid scenes were successively exhibited, and great credit is due to Mr. Grieve's exertions for the improvements in the interior of this house, the appearance of which called forth loud applauses the moment the curtain rose.

The whole of this extensive Estab. lishment has been materially altered since last season, by making the inte rior, particularly the stage part, considerably wider, higher and longer. The new Proscenium, or frontispiece, forms a Picture Frame, richly ornamented, with oak leaves, rosetts, reeds, &c. tastefully displayed in gold; over the tablet are the Prince Regent and Duke of York's arms, also in gold; the front ́drop scene, a landscape, is 40 feet wide and 37 high; the above frame is contrived so as to extend or diminish the stage to any size the subject may require; in the centre of the Proscenium

over the foot lights is Apollo's head, with rays in gold. The pannels are a Prince's blue; the styles a light lemon colour, with burnished gold ornaments, The stage boxes are ornamented with silver pilasters, gold trellis work and crimson drapery. The stage doors white and gold, and in centre of each a gold lyre. The stage doors and the boxes over them (which are the boxes of the two proprietors) draw back at the same time with the frame of the Proscenium, in order to give 60 feet opening to the stage! the audience part of the house is much widened, which has given greater space to the riding school, the circle of which is painted as stone work, to form a base to the whole. The front of the two tiers of boxes and the gallery are chastely designed in a running ornament of diamonds formed of laurel leaves, a rosette in the centre, and tied toge ther with a true-lovers'-knot, all in gold, on an azure-blue ground, light lemoncolour and white styles, which are the prevailing colours throughout the Theatre. The ceiling represents a dome, supported by pilasters of trellis work, in the centre of which the new and superb chandelier, illuminated by gas, descends. The new ventilators in the cieling are kept in continual motion by the accumulation of air in the Theatre. -We understand the above improvements have cost Messrs Astley and Davis upwards of 40007.

MARCH 23.-The attractions of this Theatre promise to become as powerful as in any former season. The house opened this evening with a new Musical Piece, a new Pantomime, and a new Aqua-drama, which proved eminently successful. The strength of the com

pany is materially increased by the ac

cession of Gibbon and the return of Grimaldi, the talents of the former in the vocal, and of the latter in the pantomimic department, are justly allowed to be of the first order.

P

THE ELFIN ARROW.❤

FOUND ON THE COAST or MALTA

LEDGE of my own far-distant land, Forgotten on this lonely strand, In abject wretchedness how near Art thou to him who views thee here! Like thee on Scotia's wilds he grew A mass of dark and changeful hue, Yet haply once by science wrought, And once with forms of beauty fraughtNow idly thrown to whet the glaives Of felon Turks and christian slaves! Yet could those elves alert and bland, That hover in the purple west, Bring from one kind consenting hand A gift like this-it would be blest Beyond whatever fairy-wand Raised from the gems of Samarcand: But thus forgetting and forgot, To bear an unregarded lot, To waste among these rocks away As barren and as blank as they~ This, this is wretchedness more base, Poor relic!-than thy resting-place. Ill judg'd the dreaming anchorite,

That man in Eden must be blest;
The breath, the spirit of delight,

Dwelt only in the garden's guest.
Else why these summer-bowers among.
So rich in bloom, and sweets, and song ;
Or on yon land, where lingers all
That time has sav'd from glory's fall.
Thus fondly turns my soul to dwell
On one grey roof-one misty dell?
Why!-but that life's own Eden-tree,
Love, social love! is there for me.
To watch beneath this dark blue tide
The thousand lamps of ocean glide;
Pillow'd on starry flowers to hear
The coral-seeker warbling near-
These are but pageants that beguile
Sick fancy back to Albine's isle;
To her blue eyes of swifter light,
And lips with living coral bright-
Can these suffice to soothe a fate
Thus gaudy, yet thus desolate ?
O!-dark and fruitless as yon pile
Of coralline that weeds defile,
Is the rich spirit left alone,

Till crush'd and harden'd into stope !
Ye bigot islanders!-ye mourn'd

Your cross by felon Franks profan'd, But faithful hearts the plunder scorn'd While yet the glorious cross remained; And mine could well your treasures spare If hope-one holy hope was there:

The Cairngorn diamond, or Scotch pebble, is sometimes distinguished by this name, being supposed to enchant the person at whom it is thrown.

Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXIII. Mar. 1818.

It once had such unearthly wealth
As might have brav'd the bandit's stealth!
Still, like your saints' defrauded shrine,
It boasts its pledge of life divine,
But it has lost the gem, whose worth
Gave beauty to its place on earth
Pledge of my native land, farewell!→
Thou art not here, neglected stone!
The only exile left to dwell
In baleful solitude unknown;
Nor bearest thou alone a trace
Of love's sweet fable, Psyche's face*-
Those cherub features that express
The soul all peace and loveliness:
A heart as firm as thee shall keep
The beauteous symbol grav'd as deep,
And it may break like thee, but never
Lose the fair image stamp'd for ever.

BENEFICENCE.

V.

An ADDRESS written by request, and recited at the Anniversary Festival of the Queen's Lying inn Hospital, celebrated at the City of London Tavern, Thursday, March 12, 1818.

H.R.H.THE DUKE OF SUSSEX,K.Q.PRESIDENT, IN THE CHAIR.

To

Canaan's land,—to Israel's earliest day,

The Muse this night would wing her backward way,

And ask your tears o'er that sad tomb to flow,

Where Jacob mourn'd, and Rachel slept below

Moment of grief,-of horror, and of dread,
His infant living, but its parent dead!
Cut off in child-birth's hour, and beauty's
bloom,

The sainted victim to an early tomb!While her fond husband, wrapt in mute surprise,

With breast convulsed, and wildly gazing eyes,

Seem'd listening still for that departed breath,

And fain would ask, if this indeed be death?

But not in ancient years, and tribes alone Such woes have smitten, and such griefs were known.

Death's sable banner yet remains unfurl`d, And pity bleeds, where'er his shaft is burl'd:

Who then, with feeling mind, and friendly heart,

Such tears can view, and not their aid impart ?

* Psyche's head was engraved on it. LI

Scarce are the tears yet dry which Bri

tain shed

O'er the dark pall, that wrapt her Princely dead,

When a whole nation flung its pleasures by, In speechless tribute to her memory.

O ye! who loved our Royal Charlotte here,

Whose bitter agony bedew'd her bierThink on the hour of woe that seal'd her doom

Think on the cause that snatch'd her to the tomb.

Now let her fate its last sad lesson give,Still from the grave let her example live. SHE Soothed the grief which misery bade to flow

The widow's sorrows, and the orphan's