MAD ENGLISHMAN. Proxy's converse with the folks! SPECULATOR. Evidently! CONNECTICUT. Republican courage— SPECULATOR. Certainly! CONNECTICUT. Beat the British SPECULATOR. Exactly! 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! Oh! ask me not which is the flower I seek As I roam through the woodland from week to week ;— I care for no flower but the rose of your cheek 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 manners. 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. Reynolds, Fitzherbert, Caleb Whitefoord, and a phalanx of North British predetermined applauders under the banner of Major Mills, all good men and true. Our illustrious friend was in inimitable glee, and poor Goldsmith that day took all his raillery as patiently and complacently as my friend Boswell would have done any day, or every day of his life. In the mean time we did not forget our duty; and though we had a better comedy going on, in which Johnson was chief actor, we betook ourselves in good time to our separate and allotted posts, and waited the awful drawing up of the curtain. As our stations were preconcerted, so were our signals for plaudits arranged and determined upon, in a manner that gave every one his cue where to look for them, and how to follow them up. We had among us a very worthy and efficient member, long since lost to his friends and the world at large, Adam Drummond, of amia. ble memory, who was gifted by Nature with the most sonorous, and at the same time the most contagious laugh, that ever echoed from the human lungs. The neighing of the horse of the son of Hystaspes was a whisper to it; the whole thunder of the theatre could not drown it. This kind and ingenuous friend fairly forewarned us that he knew no more when to give his fire than the cannon did that was planted on a battery. He desired, therefore, to have a flapper at his elbow, and I had the honour to be deputed to that office. I planted him in an upper box, pretty nearly over the stage, in full view of pit and galleries, and perfectly well situated to give the echo all its play through the hollows and recesses of the theatre. The success of our manœuvres was complete. All eyes were upon Johnson, who sat in the front row of a side-box, and when he laughed, everybody thought themselves war. ranted to roar. In the mean time, my dear friend Drummond followed signals with a rattle so irresistibly comic, that, when he had repeated it several times, the attention of the spectators was so engrossed by his person and performances that the progress of the play seemed likely to become a secondary object, and I found it prudent to insinuate to him that he might halt his music without any prejudice to the author. But, alas! it was now too late to rein him in; he had laughed upon my signal, where he found no joke, and now unluckily he fancied that he found a joke in almost everything that was said; so that nothing in nature could be more mal-a-propos than some of his bursts every now and then were. These were dangerous moments, for the pit began to take umbrage; but we carried our play through, and triumphed not only over Colman's judgment, but our own." It was thus that one of the most delightful of our comedies was saved from precipitate condemnation, and preserved to the stage, by the preconcerted applauses of a party of the author's friends. But it was because there was real merit in the piece that this support was effectual. Every observer of human nature has remarked the excitability of a multitude, and the effect of the slightest spark thrown among them in producing an explosion of feeling. The Athenian orator" wielded at will the fierce democracy," because they were exposed in great and compact masses to the electrical shock of his "resistless eloquence." The vehement exhortations, the ardent appeals, which kindled into enthusi asm the whole multitude, would have " slept in the dull ear" of perhaps every individual present, had he been insulated from the general body. Even now we can witness the effects of the eloquence, such as it is, of the demagogues of the day, when addressed to assembled crowds. On such occasions it may be observed that the amount of popular excitement is in the direct ratio of the numbers present; and the contagious character of the influence exerted is evinced by the fact that it operates pretty strongly even on those who are out of earshot of the orator. But, in order that eloquence, or any other power, may act thus strongly upon a multitude, there must be, in every separate individual, a tendency to be acted upon by it. No number of minds could be roused by mutual sympathy to violent excitement, if the stimulus applied to the whole was not calculated to produce some effect (however feeble) on every mind, taken singly. The mutual sympathy pervading a numerous assemblage will heighten what, in the breast of a single person, would be a mere opinion of sentiment, into a strong emotion,-will raise simple approbation into enthusiasm, or inflame simple disapproval into fierce animosity; but such emotions will not be excited by this cause unless the opinion or sentiment on which they are founded already in some degree exists. Even in a multitude, however, this mutual sympathy may remain dormant for a time. Every individual in a crowd may feel as calmly and coldly as when alone, so long as everybody listens in silence, and keeps his feelings to himself; but the first expression of feeling, however slight and partial, originates a movement which spreads and augments till the growing fermentation pervades the whole mass. There is no place in which these phenomena are more apparent than in a crowded theatre. Merits, or defects, which, in any individual of the audience, would excite moderate satisfaction or disapprobation, frequently through the action of mutual sympathy, awakened by some slight and partial expression, become the objects of rapturous applause or violent condemnation. In the case of She Stoops to Conquer, the audience could not be insensible to the admirable humour of the characters, and the exquisite drollery of the scene; but neither could they be insensible to the extravagance of the plot, and the improbability-nay, impossibility-of some of the most prominent incidents and this conflict of opposite impressions, however critically just, might have really done lamentable injustice to the comedy, had it not been for the skilful applause and laughter of Dr. Johnson and his troops, which, because it was skilful and well-applied, carried with it the applause and laughter of the whole audience. It is easy to imagine that a party of enemies similarly organised, and hooting, with equal tact, the faulty passages of the play, would, with the same audience, have produced its total damnation. A curious illustration of the susceptibility of audiences to the influence of example, is afforded by the celebrated Trunkmaker of Queen Anne's time, who regulated the applauses of the theatre by the blows of his cudgel. Addison bestows an amusing paper in the Spectator on this remarkable personage. He frequented the upper gallery, and, when he was pleased with anything that was acted upon the stage, expressed his approbation by a loud knock upon the benches, or the wainscot, which could be heard over the whole theatre, and became at length a signal, rarely disobeyed, for the applause of the house. "The trunkmaker," says Addison, "is a large black man, whom nobody knows. He generally leans forward on a huge oaken plant, with great attention to everything which passes on the stage. He is never seen to smile; but, upon hearing anything that pleases him, he takes up his staff with both hands, and lays it on the next piece of timber that stands in his way with exceeding vehemence; after which he composes himself in his former posture till such time as something new sets him again at work. It has been observed his blow is so well-timed that the most judicious critic could never except against it. As soon as any shining thought is expressed by the poet, or any uncommon grace appears in the actor, he smites the bench or wain. scot. If the audience does not concur with him he smites a second time; and if the audience is not yet awakened, looks round him with great wrath, and repeats the blow a third time, which never fails to produce the clap. He sometimes lets the audience begin the clap of themselves, and at the conclusion of their applause, ratifies it with a single thwack. He is of so great use to the playhouse, that it is said a former director of it, upon his not being able to pay his attend. ance by reason of sickness, kept one in pay to officiate for him till such time as he recovered; but the person so employed, though he laid about him with incredible violence, did it in such wrong places that the audience soon found out that it was not their old friend, the Trunkmaker." Addison bears testimony to the usefulness of this manual critic: "It is certain," he says, "that the Trunkmaker has saved many a good play, and brought many a graceful actor into reputation, who would not otherwise have been taken notice of." And he concludes his paper with a playful proposal that the Trunkmaker's office should be rendered perpetual at the public expense; "and, to the end that this place should be always disposed of according to merit, I would have none preferred to it who has not given convincing proofs both of a sound judgment and a strong arm, and could not upon occasion either knock down an ox, or write a comment upon Horace's art of poetry. In short, I would have him a due composition of Hercules and Apollo, and so rightly qualified for this important office, that the Trunkmaker may not be missed by our posterity." This susceptibility of people in a crowd to yield to impulses which would have no effect on any individual taken singly, though it may be attended with good consequences, yet is exceedingly liable to abuses; and one of these is the system of mercenary applause, which has be come the prevailing nuisance of theatres. It has long existed in France, from whence we have imported it; but, bad as it is with us, we have no notion of the height to which it is carried by the Parisians, -a height which is one among many proofs that we are still behind our neighbours on the other side of the Channel in "the high civilization" of modern society. Without endeavouring to trace the steps by which the claqueur system in France has risen to its present height and palmy state, we shall mention a few particulars which will show what that state actually is. It is not enough to say that this kind of support is invariably resorted to when a new piece, a new actor, or a new singer, appears |