and which still survives with undiminished vividness. It was the acting
of Siddons.

The stage is now almost undone. The absurd liberalism of the day has
given every corner of London a theatre, and has degraded the character
of the stage in all. By scattering the ability which still exists, it
has stripped the great theatres of the very means of representing
dramatic excellence; while, by adopting popular contrivances to obtain
temporary success, they have driven away dramatic genius in contempt or
in despair. Our stage is now condemned to be fed like a felon from the
dungeons, and, like the felon, to feel a stigma in every morsel which it
puts between its lips. It must stoop to French frivolity, or German
extravagance, and be glad to exist upon either. Yet, why should not
higher names come to its aid? Why should not the State relieve the
difficulties of a great institution, which might be made to repay its
assistance a thousand-fold? Is there nothing that could be withdrawn
from the waste of our civil lists, or the pomp of public establishments,
to reunite, to purify, and even to exalt the stage? The people _will_
have theatres. Good or evil, noble or degraded, the stage will be
demanded by the people. Is it a thing indifferent to our rulers, to
supply them with this powerful and universal excitement in its highest
degree of moral influence, or in its lowest degree of impurity; to bring
before them, with all the attractions of the drama, the memory of heroes
and sages, patriots and martyrs, or leave them to rake for the
indulgence of eye and ear in the very kennels of crime?

"They order those things better in France."

Unquestionably. The care of Government there protects the national
taste, and prevents the theatres from looking for subsistence to the