undergo the severe ordeal; and if we consider _what_ changes would be
required to adapt them to the altered hours, we shall find that they
will be all in favour of good taste, and on the side of nature and
simplicity. The day is a holy thing; Homer aptly calls it [Greek:
ieron aemar], and it still retains something of the sacred simplicity
of ancient times. It is, at all events, less sophisticated and
polluted than the modern night, a period which is not devoted to
wholesome sleep, but to various constraints and sufferings, called,
in bitter mockery, Pleasure. The late evening, being a modern
invention, is therefore devoted to fashion; to recur to the simple and
pure in theatricals, it would probably be necessary to effect an
escape from a period of time, which has never been employed in the
full integrity of tasteful elegance; and thus to break the spell, by
which the whole realm of fancy has long been bewitched. An absurd and
inconvenient practice, which is almost peculiar to this country, of
attending public places in that uncomfortable condition, which is
technically called being dressed, but which is in truth, especially in
females, being more or less naked and undressed, might more easily be
dispensed with by day, and on that account, and for many other reasons,
it would be less difficult to return home.

_DECLINE OF THE DRAMA._

It is not unlikely that the drama would be more successful if it were
conducted more plainly, and in a less costly style. The perfection
of the machinery and scenery of the modern theatres, seems to be
unfavourable to the goodness of composition and acting; since the
accessaries are so excellent, the opinion is encouraged, that the
principals are less important, and may be neglected with impunity.
The effect of good scenery at the first glance is, no doubt, very