has only to vituperate itself for the consequences it generates. Let the actor consider the line of exit as that line beyond which he should not soar in quest of spurious applause; let him reflect that in proportion as he advances to the lamps, he recedes from nature; that the truncheon of Hotspur acquires no additional charm from encountering the cheek of beauty in the stage-box, and that the bravura of Mandane may produce effect, although the throat of her who warbles it should not overhang the orchestra. The Jove of the modern critical Olympus, Lord Mayor of the theatric sky, has, ex cathedrâ, asserted, that a natural actor looks upon the audience part of the theatre as the third side of the chamber he inhabits. Surely of the third wall thus fancifully erected, our actors should by ridicule or reason be withheld from knocking their heads against the

stucco.

Time forcibly reminds me that all things which have a limit must be brought to a conclusion. Let me, ere that conclusion arrives, recal to your recollection, that the pillars which rise on either side of me, blooming in virid antiquity, like two massy evergreens, had yet slumbered in their native quarry,

but for the ardent exertions of the individual who called them into life: to his never-slumbering talents you are indebted for whatever pleasure this haunt of the muses is calculated to afford. If, in defiance of chaotic malevolence, the destroyer of the temple of Diana yet survives in the name of Erostratus, surely we may confidently predict, that the rebuilder of the temple of Apollo will stand recorded to distant posterity in that of-SAMUEL WHITBREAD.

THE

BEAUTIFUL INCENDIARY.

By the Hon. W. S.

Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.

VIRGIL.

Scene draws, and discovers a Lady asleep on a couch. Enter PHILAnder.

PHILANDER.

1.

SOBRIETY, cease to be sober,

Cease, Labour, to dig and to delve,

And hail to this tenth of October,

One thousand eight hundred and twelve.

Hah! whom do my peepers remark?

'Tis Hebe with Jupiter's jug;

Oh no, 'tis the pride of the Park,

Fair Lady Elizabeth Mugg.

2.

Why, beautiful nymph, do you close
The curtain that fringes your eye?
Why veil in the clouds of repose

The sun that should brighten our sky? Perhaps jealous Venus has oil'd

Thy hair with some opiate drug, Not chusing her charms should be foil'd By Lady Elizabeth Mugg.

3.*

But ah! why awaken the blaze

Those bright burning-glasses contain, Whose lens with concentrated rays Proved fatal to old Drury Lane.

'Twas all accidental they cry,-
Away with the flimsy humbug!
'Twas fired by a flash from the eye
Of Lady Elizabeth Mugg.

4.

Thy glance can in us raise a flame,
Then why should old Drury be free?
Our doom and its dome are the same,
Both subject to beauty's decree.
No candles the workmen consum'd,
When deep in the ruins they dug,
Thy flash still their progress illum'd,
Sweet Lady Elizabeth Mugg.

5.

Thy face a rich fire-place displays;
The mantle-piece marble-thy brows;
Thine eyes are the bright beaming blaze,
Thy bib which no trespass allows,
The fender's tall barrier marks;
Thy tippet's the fire-quelling rug,
Which serves to extinguish the sparks
Of Lady Elizabeth Mugg.