In our own country, devotees of the _danseuse_ have done more, by
promoting her to the decencies of the domestic fireside. In our own
country, also, even Punch was once purchased by an eccentric nobleman for
the diversion of his private life. But as Demosthenes observed of the cost
of such a pleasure, "that is buying repentance too dear!"

We are perhaps offending the gravity of certain of our readers by the
extent of this notice; albeit, we have striven to propitiate their
prejudices by the peculiar combination and juxtaposition of professions,
selected for consideration. But we are not acting unadvisedly. Close its
eyes as it may, the public cannot but perceive, that the legitimate drama
is banished by want of encouragement from the national theatres, and that
the ballet is brandishing her cap and bells triumphantly in its room.

Such changes are never the result of accident. The supply is created by
the demand. It is because we prefer the Sylphide to Juliet, that the
Sylphide figures before us. Shakspeare was played to empty benches; the
Peri and Gisele fill the houses.

We repeat, therefore, since such is the bent of public appetite, let it be
gratified in the least objectionable way. Let us have a royal academy of
dancing. We shall easily find some Earl of Westmoreland to compose its
ballets, and lady patronesses to give an annual ball for the benefit of
the institution. Do not let some eighty thousand a-year be lost to the
country. An idol is as easily carved out of one block of wood as another.
Let us make unto ourselves goddesses out of the haberdashers' shops of
Oxford Street; and qualify the youthful caprices of Whitechapel to command
the homage of Congress, and of the great autocrat of all the Russias.
Properly instructed, little Sukey Smith may still obtain an enameled
brooch or bracelet from her Majesty the Queen-Dowager! Let us "people this