upon matters of moment, much divided. Some thought it a fair promise
of the future intention of the Committee to abolish that phalanx of
authors who usurp the stage, to the exclusion of a large assortment
of dramatic talent blushing unseen in the background; while others
contended that the scheme would prevent men of real eminence from
descending into an amphitheatre in which all Grub Street (that is to
say, all London and Westminster) would be arrayed against them. The
event has proved both parties to be in a degree right, and in a
degree wrong. One hundred and twelve Addresses have been sent in,
each sealed and signed, and mottoed, "as per order," some written by
men of great, some by men of little, and some by men of no talent.

Many of the public prints have censured the taste of the Committee,
in thus contracting for Addresses as they would for nails--by the
gross; but it is surprising that none should have censured their
TEMERITY. One hundred and eleven of the Addresses must, of course,
be unsuccessful: to each of the authors, thus infallibly classed
with the genus irritabile, it would be very hard to deny six stanch
friends, who consider his the best of all possible Addresses, and
whose tongues will be as ready to laud him as to hiss his adversary.
These, with the potent aid of the bard himself, make seven foes per
address; and thus will be created seven hundred and seventy-seven
implacable auditors, prepared to condemn the strains of Apollo
himself--a band of adversaries which no prudent manager would think
of exasperating.

But, leaving the Committee to encounter the responsibility they have
incurred, the public have at least to thank them for ascertaining and
establishing one point, which might otherwise have admitted of
controversy. When it is considered that many amateur writers have