Dangling beneath, for Whitbread's shears {51}
Have cut the bauble off.

Yes, she exalts her stately head;
And, but that solid bulk outspread
Opposed you on your onward tread,
And posts and pillars warranted
That all was true that Wyatt said,
You might have deemed her walls so thick
Were not composed of stone or brick,
But all a phantom, all a trick,
Of brain disturb'd and fancy sick,
So high she soars, so vast, so quick!



JOHNSON'S GHOST. {52}



[Ghost of Dr. Johnson rises from trap-door P. S., and Ghost of
BOSWELL from trap-door O. P. The latter bows respectfully to the
House, and obsequiously to the Doctor's Ghost, and retires.]

DOCTOR'S GHOST loquitur.

That which was organised by the moral ability of one has been
executed by the physical efforts of many, and DRURY LANE THEATRE is
now complete. Of that part behind the curtain, which has not yet
been destined to glow beneath the brush of the varnisher, or vibrate