Napoleon and George Washington, I went before one of the rascally squires in New york, who, after hearing Proxy's converse in Equity's order on the light, ordered some of his people to put a belt round me and tie me to the wall. There they left me to howl to the grimy bricks and speared windows; and some niggers in the cock-loft, seeing I could not move, poured twenty or thirty buckets of the North River on me, pretending that their feet slipped, and they could not help it, though I saw them all the time taking aim. CONNECTICUT. Kind of Bedlam! Were you there long or short neighbour? MAD ENGLISHMAN. Centuries, sir! The cruel hounds! To frighten me out of asking for my own, my ten millions! CONNECTICUT. You said five millions. MAD ENGLISHMAN. No, sir; ten or fifteen millions, as declared by Proxy's converse with the folks, in Equity's order, on the light. CONNECTICUT. I guess that's a curious phrase of yours-Proxy's converse with the folks! Who is Proxy? MAD ENGLISHMAN. Do you see that looking-glass? That is a proxy. Suppose I have a serpent winding round me, or a monkey on my back, grinning and biting; if I go to the proxy I see what's the matter. Then I hold converse with the Proxy in Equity's order, because the perfect proxy never speaks but the truth. When they kept me belted in Golgotha every morning, before the sun was up, they let in upon me a score or two of boa constrictors, monsters with talons, and a hundred biting monkeys and hedghogs. OLD KENTUCK. That was considerable smart on the whole hog principle. MAD ENGLISHMAN. For this infernal treatment, sir, I claimed two dollars a minute, though Proxy says if I claim fifty dollars a minute it is not too much, on the light. OLD KENTUCK. I can't see this new light at all. Take some Monongahela, and set your wits in order. (Sings.) A jay bird sat on a hickory limb, He look'd at me, and I wink'd at him ; I took up a stone, and I hit him on the shin; Says he, don't you do that agin. Toodle, toodle, Old folks, young folks, Old Virginy never tire! IRISHMAN. Be the powers, but that ould Virginy, with his cock eye, must be a quare man never to tire. CONNECTICUT. I'm quite tired of the song. It's only fit for a nig ger to sing. If we are to have singing, let us have "Major Silas Sloane's hymns of Joy," or the "Indine preacher." OLD KENTUCK. Major Silas didn't live in the South, where the sun is hot, and where music and poetry come natural. "Old Virginy" is the finest song on the 'tarnal. Yankee doodle ought not to be played on the same drum. I should like to see the man (that wasn't a friend) dare to say it isn't a good tune: he should crawl out of the house like a 'coon. The ladies in the old dominion sing it morning, noon, and night. Who dare say my sister ever sang a tune that isn't first-rate, and no mistake? Show me the man. I'll make him eat fire, swal. * Police Magistrates. low a knife, or jump the Delaware, no ways slow. I'm full of the spirit of '76, and a true-born American. My father killed three-andtwenty Englishers with his own rifle, and I was born soon after. I'm full of gunpowder, I am. Major, some sling. I can drink till the world gets too old to move. While another man rows up Salt River, I'm only putting the fire out in the forest.* (Sings) Yankee doodle, doodle dandy, 1 Corn stalks, rum and gin sling handy, An Indine pudding, and a green peach pie- CONNECTICUT. Pray, let us have some conversation respecting the Old World. This gentleman will favour us with some information, I expect. Pray, sir, what do you calculate the Duke of Wellington's income at? SPECULATOR. I cannot say for certain; but it may be two hundred thousand dollars per annum. But some of our noblemen are much richer some of them have from three to five thousand dollars a day, or twice as much as the salary allowed the King. CONNECTICUT. What do you mean by the salary allowed the King? He takes as much money as he pleases, I guess. MAD ENGLISHMAN. Equity's principle of justice! SPECULATOR. Oh no! he is paid quarterly, like any other great of ficer of state! independently of having a life-interest in three national palaces, in which he resides, receives company, or transacts the formal business of state, as the master of the national ceremonies. CONNECTICUT. Why, you don't mean to say the King is of any use? SPECULATOR. Yes, assuredly; and respected much more by his fellow-countrymen than any of your presidents have been, not excepting Washington. Your presidents are only chosen by a majority of the people, and there is therefore always a minority averse from the person, politics, and conduct of the executive, which in some instances, as at present in the instance of Jackson, does not attempt to disguise its hatred of the man so elevated. The almost unanimous wish of the people of England is that they may not be troubled to choose their chief magistrate as the Americans are troubled. OLD KENTUCK. Ah! we expect the British would not be capable of living under free institutions. CONNECTICUT. London must be a wonderful place. Do give us some account of it. I expect it is a size or two larger than New York. SPECULATOR. Imagine New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, New Orleans, and Washington placed together, and you may then conceive a place about half the size of London. Add fifty buildings as grand as the City Hall, New York, twenty as large as the Capitol at Washington, one hundred like the State House, Philadelphia-imagine fifty streets as handsome as Broadway or Market Street, some with five hundred carriages in them at a time,-imagine twenty palaces, each large enough to accommodate a thousand *Rowing up Salt River is a slang term for getting intoxicated; and putting the fire out in the forest signifies quenching the thirst, or internal fire, caused by previous sling drinking. people, some of these palaces occupied by royalty, some by nobility, and two by the worn-out veterans of the army and navy,-conceive five bridges, each of which cost from three to five millions of dollars, and two cathedrals, which with the public monuments in them, have cost more than would suffice to rebuild the "monumental city," Baltimore,*-conceive that in some of the streets there are more valuable paintings and sculpture than could be found in the entire American continent,-think of the docks, and the river literally covered for twenty miles with shipping, the sight of which would be enough, if it could be seen at a single glance, to make a New Yorker's hair stand on end. CONNECTICUT. Possible? But tell me something respecting the King and the Duke of Wellington. SPECULATOR. The Duke of Wellington, sir, lives in a comparatively poor style. He keeps only twenty footmen, and his house is only a small stone building with a hundred windows. CONNECTICUT. A poor style! King- That beats all natur! But the SPECULATOR. The King, sir, is only a private gentleman, except when he appears in state. He then rides in a carriage nearly as handsome as the carriage of the Lord Mayor of London. It is carved and gilded, and is drawn by eight cream-coloured horses, each worth two thousand dollars, and is accompanied by his suite in ten carriages, with six horses each, worth together a hundred thousand dollars, and is preceded and followed by life-guards in steel armour with gold ornaments; and by beefeaters. OLD KENTUCK. Go a-head, Uncle Sam! Beefeaters, I guess, then, are scarce in England, and are only to be seen on extraordinary occasions. SPECULATOR. The King's presence is proclaimed by the clangour of silver trumpets and the discharge of artillery; and his regal crown is worth as much as the Capitol at Washington. CONNECTICUT. This must be very imposing. OLD KENTUCK. Dead swindling you mean. MAD ENGLISHMAN. Equity's order, on the light! SPECULATOR. Very imposing, indeed, sir, to a simple republican people like the English. But it is found necessary in distant parts of the empire to surround the representatives of the sovereign with much greater splendour. In India, where there are one hundred and twenty millions of British subjects, the governor-general exhibits the majesty of his authority in a more glaring and costly manner. When on a progress through the country, he rides on an elephant caparisoned with gold and jewels, and is accompanied by tributary rajahs mounted on elephants, camels, and Arabian horses, heading armies, and followed by Circassian beauties in moving pagados loaded with treasures purposely exhibited to dazzle the beholders! CONNECTICUT. Well, I expect the British are an extraordinary people! Strange we should have beaten them so easily! We took them all ways; by sea and land. MAD ENGLISHMAN. On the light! SPECULATOR. Indeed! CONNECTICUT. We Yankees So called from the circumstance of possessing a monument to Washington. SPECULATOR. Evidently! CONNECTICUT. Republican courage— SPECULATOR. Certainly! CONNECTICUT. Beat the British- OLD KENTUCK. Yes, with the help of the Kentuck and Virginy volunteers. We are the critturs, the real ky-an alligator breed, strong as a steam en-jine, and nothing but iron right up and down. Major, a sling. We can swim harder, dive deeper, run faster, gun surer, cut slicker, fight, gouge, and drink better than all the world.— There is no mistake in us, there isn't. Our blood is purple, full of gunpowder, and stronger than brandy; the entire whole of the tarnal earth can't go a-head of us at anything. Talk to us of the British!— pshaw ! (Sings) A bull-frog, dressed in soldier's clothes, I took up a knife and I hit him on the nose, I made his nose look rather flat, And Bull, says I, how like you that? Toodle, toodle, Old folks, young folks, Old Virginy never tire. THREE WEEKS BEFORE MARRIAGE. OH! ask me not which is the light I prize I care for no light but the light of your eyes- Turn it sweetly on me! Oh! ask me not which is the flower I seek As I roam through the woodland from week to week ;- So turn it softly to me, Turn it softly to me! Oh! ask me not which is my fondest choice Breathe it gently to me! Oh! ask me not what in this world of strife So be that dear thing to me, Fanny! Be that dear thing to me! THE CLAQUEUR SYSTEM. BY GEORGE HOGARTH. WITHOUT entering into any speculations as to the causes of the decline of the stage, we may safely set down the increasing prevalence of the Claqueur system as one of them; and the check it has received from Mr. Macready, in his high-minded management of Covent Garden, is not one of the smallest benefits which that gentleman is conferring on the drama. The practice of supporting dramatic pieces by the plaudits of persons hired for that purpose, appears to be in a great measure of modern date. It is not to be supposed that there ever was a time when the applauses or hisses of theatres, were altogether unbiassed and disinterested. Dramatic authors have always had their friends as well as enemies; and we see from the history of the stage in all countries that both friends and enemies have chosen the theatre for the display of their kindness or hostility. Friends of the author have mustered to support his play, and enemies to damn it; and violent collisions have sometimes arisen between the contending parties. But such scenes in former days were only occasional, wholly unconnected with the management of theatres, and no part of a system which now threatens the extinction of dramatic criticism.* It was by a band of claqueurs that She Stoops to Conquer was supported on the first night of its performance. There was a strong prejudice against this charming comedy before it came out. Colman, as manager, at first refused to receive it; and many of Goldsmith's friends gave their verdict against it, so much were they startled by its apparent eccentricity and extravagance. Johnson, however, stood forth as the champion of the piece: and, being then in the height of his literary power, insisted on its having a fair trial. He overruled almost by main force the scruples of Colman; and She Stoops to Conquer was at length brought out at Covent Garden, and supported by a body of volunteer claqueurs, under the command of the veteran, Johnson. Cumberland's account of this memorable evening† is exceedingly graphic. We ac "We were not," he says in his Memoirs, "over-sanguine of success, but perfectly determined to struggle hard for our author. cordingly assembled our strength at the Shakspeare Tavern, in a considerable body, for an early dinner, when Samuel Johnson took the chair at the head of a long table, and was the life and soul of the corps. The poet took post silently by his side, with the Burkes, Sir Joshua * It may be observed, however, that something resembling the modern claqueur system seems to have existed in the most corrupt period of Roman man ners. Plautus tells us that in his time people were stationed in the theatre to applaud bad actors. He attacks this abuse in the prologue to one of his come dies and makes Mercury, by order of Jupiter, prohibit so shameful a manœuvre. Ac tors, he says, ought, like other eminent men, to triumph through their own merit and not by the influence of cabal and intrigue :— "Eadem histrioni sit lex, quæ summo viro: The 15th of March, 1773. |