the reader sees must be no less divine personages than Venus, Cupid, Hymen, and the Graces. Let me preserve the names of their mortal representatives: Mrs. Mountain; Oscar Byrne: his brother, Hymen; Bel Menage, Miss Searle, Miss Bristow ; the Prince, Mr. Byrne, and Cinderella herself, Miss Decamp.

We have already noticed Mr. Cherry and his ambition to write for Mrs. Jordan. On the 7th of February, 1804, his comedy was produced, under the title of the "Soldier's Daughter." It has scenes of great interest and powerful contrast, the detection of villainy, and the restoration of family peace. The lovely spirit that presides over the destinies of all is a character called the Widow Cheerly, acted by the delightful woman with as much zeal as skill, and as though she felt its importance to herself; and it unquestionably was of the greatest, as being distinguished from either the "Romp" or the "Woman of Fashion," and attractive from vivacity, knowledge, and goodness. Mrs. Jordan had an epilogue of the true cast for effect in the times of invasion. Hear the muster of a female army:

"Should British women from the contest swerve?

We'll form a female army of reserve

And class them thus. Old maids are pioneers —
Widows, sharp-shooters-wives are fusileers;
Maids are battalion - that's all under twenty;
And as for light troops, we have them in plenty.
Vixens the trumpet blow-scolds beat the drum
When thus prepar'd, what enemy will come?"

There was a kind line of recollection of her aide De Camp behind the scene, who had been inured to service all the winter, and the epilogue closed with an unnecessary call for indulgence,

"If mercy's shield protects the Soldier's Daughter.'' Mrs. Jordan spoke this address beautifully. The play ran on through the season, and called into a few nights' existence a "Sailor's Daughter," by Mr. Cumberland; but the nautical heroine soon parted company, and was never heard of after.

Thus highly to his credit, in the very teeth of the most powerful confederacy that ever menaced a rival theatre, the season of 1803-04 was closed brilliantly by John Bannister, who returned thanks in person, and modestly rejoiced in the rewards of his exertions. In the summer he returned to his old station in the Haymarket, where he appeared in Fawcett's "Doctor Pangloss," and his own Walter in the "Children in the Wood."

Mrs. Jordan, for her benefit this season, after

the play of the "Hypocrite," in which she tried her strength against Mrs. Abington, accepted a farce from Mr. Oulton, a native of Dublin, to show her skill with Johnstone, in the exhibition of an Irish servant and his wife. Though there was great truth of humour displayed, the piece was defective, and dropped at the first trial. It was called the "Middle Dish, or the Irishman in Turkey." Mr. Oulton has contributed something to the history of the stage, and a few pieces to the theatrical wants of Ireland and England, but I remember nothing but a musical farce at the Haymarket, called the "Sixty-third Letter," which was set by that worthy man, Doctor Arnold.

Fawcett, in the summer, did a very clever thing in the way of a dramatic ballet, called the "Enchanted Island;" it was the whole history of Prospero and Miranda, done by the Byrnes and D'Egville, who was the Caliban; there were two Mirandas, one for each act, and the business ran thus: In the first act, the devotion of Prospero to his secret studies, the conspiracy against him, the treachery of his brother, and the exposure of Prospero and his innocent child at sea, in a rotten carcase of a boat, all admirably managed. They land on the Enchanted Island, where they are

surrounded by evil spirits, who are subdued by the powerful art of Prospero. That magician discovers Ariel in the rift of the cloven pine, where Sycorax had left him. He also encourages the timid brute Caliban, and in the full triumph of his art, the act closes with a dance of spirits, whom he calls from their confines to greet him and his daughter. The second act shows Miranda twelve years older; that is, little Bristow is changed for Bel Menage. We have then the passion of Caliban for Miranda, in its gradations, a fine contrast. Ariel is her guardian, but the monster succeeds in laying him asleep, for a time, and then carries off his virgin mistress to his den. He is punished by his great master for his presumption, by the ministry of demons. Then commences the shipwreck, and the other actual business of Shakespeare's play: the love scenes of Ferdinand and Miranda, Prospero's pardon of his brother and the King of Naples, the union of the lovers, and the abjuration of magic by him whom magic has rendered triumphant.

I have run hastily over this, to show the amazing beauty of our Gothic way of fabling, and to demonstrate the peculiar power of Shakespeare over the picturesque of his art. Here he does not

speak a single word; but, observe the expressive power of the action, how easily comprehended, how fanciful in all its parts, how magnificent in its results. Fawcett missed the easy transition afforded by "Claribel at Tunis" between his two acts, for the shipwreck took place after her unfortunate union with the king in Africa.

"You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
Which end the beam should bow."

The parting, after the marriage ceremony, the storm, and the seeming loss of the king's son, Ferdinand, would have been the exact link wanting to connect the two acts. But it was extremely well done, and the little manager gave out his scenery, and machinery, too, on the occasion, and the "Enchanted Island" brought money into the treasury.

Among the novelties this summer, our friend, Arthur Griffenhoofe, of Turnham Green, tried a musical farce, from the French, called the "Gay Deceivers;" it was a failure, but, quite regardless of the shield thrown before Colman, in the song book, Elliston came forward to tell the audience