To objections like these, captiously urged and querulously maintained, it is time that equity should conclusively reply. Deviation from scenic propriety has only to vituperate itself for the consequences it generates. Let the actor consider the line of exit as that line beyond which he should not soar in quest of spurious applause: let him reflect that in proportion as he advances to the lamps, he recedes from nature; that the truncheon of Hotspur acquires no additional charm from encountering the cheek of beauty in the stage-box, and that the bravura of Mandane may produce effect, although the throat of her who warbles it should not overhang the orchestra. The Jove of the modern critical Olympus, Lord Mayor of the theatric sky, has, _ex cathedrâ_, asserted that a natural actor looks upon the audience part of the theatre as the third side of the chamber he inhabits. Surely of the third wall thus fancifully erected, our actors should by ridicule or reason be withheld from knocking their heads against the stucco. Time forcibly reminds me that all things which have a limit must be brought to a conclusion. Let me, ere that conclusion arrives, recall to your recollection that the pillars which rise on either side of me, blooming in varied antiquity, like two massy evergreens, had yet slumbered in their native quarry, but for the ardent exertions of the individual who called them into life: to his never-slumbering talents you are indebted for whatever pleasure this haunt of the Muses is calculated to afford. If, in defiance of chaotic malevolence, the destroyer of the temple of Diana yet survives in the name of Erostratus, surely we may confidently predict, that the rebuilder of the temple of Apollo will stand recorded to distant posterity in that of--SAMUEL WHITBREAD. THE BEAUTIFUL INCENDIARY. BY THE HON. W. S. Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.--VIRGIL. _Scene draws, and discovers a Lady asleep on a couch. Enter_ PHILANDER. PHILANDER. I. Sobriety, cease to be sober, Cease, Labour, to dig and to delve, And hail to this tenth of October, One thousand eight hundred and twelve. Hah! whom do my peepers remark? 'Tis Hebe with Jupiter's jug; Oh no, 'tis the pride of the Park, Fair Lady Elizabeth Mugg. II. Why, beautiful nymph, do you close The curtain that fringes your eye? Why veil in the clouds of repose The sun that should brighten our sky? Perhaps jealous Venus has oil'd Thy hair with some opiate drug, Not choosing her charms should be foil'd By Lady Elizabeth Mugg. III. But ah! why awaken the blaze The bright burning-glasses contain, Whose lens with concentrated rays Proved fatal to old Drury Lane. 'Twas all accidental they cry,-- Away with the flimsy humbug! 'Twas tired by a flash from the eye Of Lady Elizabeth Mugg. IV.