Now, if this be the mode of reading these lines, I confess all my ideas are erroneous with respect to French poetry. I have always considered that though hemistichs and occasionally whole lines occur in it, which bear a resemblance to the Spanish Versos de Arte Mayor, the anapaestic measure of "A Cobbler" is quite foreign to it. I may, however, be mistaken; and it is in the hope of eliciting information on the subject that I send these few remarks to "N. & Q." Should it appear that I am not wrong, I will on a future occasion endeavour to develop my ideas of the French rhythm; a subject that I cannot recollect to have seen treated in a satisfactory manner in any French work. Bishop Tegner, the poet of Sweden, seems also to have differed in opinion with Moore respecting the rhythm of French poetry, for he compares it to the dancing of a deaf man, who forms his steps accurate, but who does not keep time. Both are alike mistaken, in my opinion; and their error arises from their judging French poetry by rules that are foreign to it. The rhythm of French verse is peculiar, and differs from that of any other language. THOS. KEIGHTLEY. * * * * * A SPANISH PLAY-BILL. Though not much a frequenter of theatres of late, I was recently induced, by the flourishing public announcements, to go to Drury Lane Theatre; with the chance, but scarcely in the hope, of seeing what I never yet have seen, a perfect Othello. Alas! echo still answers _never yet_. But yours are not the pages for dramatic criticism. As my bill lay before me, I could not help thinking what an execrably bad taste our modern managers show in the extravagant and ridiculous announcement of the splendour of the _star_ you come to contemplate! If Mr. Brooke have great merit, he needs not all this sound of trumpets; if he have it not, he is only rendered the more contemptible by it. I have some of the play-bills of John Kemble's last performances before me, and there is none of this fustian: the fact, the performance, and the name are simply announced. If our taste improves in some respects, it does not in this; it is a retrogression--a royal theatre sinking back into the booth of a fair. Shakspeare's and Byron's texts have been converted into the showman's explanations of panoramas: to what vile uses they may be next applied, there is no guessing. Poor Shakspeare! how I have pitied him, and you too, Mr. Editor, as I have seen him for so many months undergoing the operation of the _teazle_ in "N. & Q.!" I hope there will be soon an end of this "skimble stuff," "signifying nothing." But my observation upon the Drury Lane play-bill reminded me of one I have in my common-place book; and, as a correspondent and reader of "N. & Q.," I think it my duty to send it: _A Spanish Play-bill, exhibited at Seville_, 1762.