'Mrs. Trollope might have traced to the influence of sectarianism the absence of all popular amusements in America-those excepted, which are brutal and which we have borrowed from her own country, where a like influence, though perhaps to a more limited extent, has been productive of similar results. As she has properly remarked, the working people must have some relaxation. They must have amusements of one kind or other; and being denied those which are innocent, they necessarily seek those which are vicious and of easy attainment.'

We rather think there is some mistake in all this.-In the first place as to the theatre. We were never able to discover, that the theatre is any where in the world a favorite standing amusement with the majority of the population, certainly not of the well-informed sound part of society, rich or poor. Wherever we have had the opportunity of observing upon the subject in England and on the continent of Europe, the theatre is resorted to chiefly by strangers, not by the better part of the stationary population. It may be, though we doubt it, that a considerable part of the population of London and Paris go, once a year, to some one of the minor theatres.Any one, who will make a calculation of the number of theatres, and the size of the usual audiences, compared with the population of the great cities, may form a conjecture on that head. The theatre is most frequented by travellers, persons from the country, and sailors returned from sea. It is chiefly for the Provinces ébahies, that the drama now displays her specious wonders. A few dissipated young men only of the stationary population make it an habitual resort. Occasionally, when a star arises, every body goes once or twice; and a majority of people at their ease probably, in the course of eight or ten years, see a favorite actor in eight or ten of his chief characters, and this is the end of their play-going. This is the result of our own observation in Europe, and with respect to England, the German Prince bears us out fully. We have already quoted one passage from him;-here is another.

'It strikes one as very singular that in appearance, and to a great extent in reality, the public, before whom these distinguished artists have to present themselves, is so rude, ignorant, and unmannerly.'

In another place, after commenting on a single inattention

to strict propriety, in an otherwise admirable representation of Macbeth, he adds,

'I did not observe that this struck any body. Indeed, the interest was generally so slight, the noise and mischief so incessant, that it is difficult to understand, how such distinguished artists can form themselves with so brutal, indifferent, and ignorant an audience, as they almost always have before them. As I told you, the English theatre is not fashionable, and is scarcely ever visited by what is called good society.'

Such is the London audience. What that of Dublin is, may be judged by the following painful anecdote, which the Prince relates of Miss O'Neil, on the authority of Lady Morgan.

'Lady M. said that this extraordinary young woman, who, from the very commencement of her career, had given evidence of the highest genius, remained utterly neglected at the theatre in Dublin, where she performed some years. She was at that time so poor, that when she returned home at night, after the greatest exertions, she found no other refreshment than a plate of potatoes, and a bed, which she shared with three sisters. Lady Morgan once visited her, and found the poor girl mending her two pair of old stockings, which she was obliged to wash daily, for her appearance on the stage. Lady M. now procured for her various articles of dress, and took upon herself in some degree the care of her toilet, which had been extremely neglected. She obtained more applause after this, though still but little.'

The following is the Prince's experience at the Théatre Français, the temple where, if any where on earth, the muse of the drama is worshipped.

'I saw two acts of the new and most miserable tragedy, Isabelle de Bavière, at the Théatre Français. My previous impres sions were confirmed; and not only were the performers, (with the exception of Joanny, who acted the part of Charles the sixth pretty well) mediocrity itself, but the costumes, scenery, and all the appointments were below those of the smallest theatre of the Boulevards. The populace of Paris was represented by seven men and two women; the "Pairs de France" by three or four wretched sticks, literally in rags, with gold paper crowns on their heads, like those in a puppet-show. The house was empty, and the cold insufferable.'

Such is the attendance on the European theatre. Who does not perceive, that the case with our own is in this respect the exact counterpart? But as our largest cities are yet small compared with London, and as the crowd of strangers and travellers is much greater in the French and British capitals, than it is in any part of this country, the theatre is proportionably better supported there than here; but not in a way implying a greater resort to it, as one of the regular amusements of the stationary population. So far is this, however, from arguing a want of taste for amusement, that one of the great causes why the theatre is not more patronized, is universally admitted to be the interminable succession of private parties.

So much for the absence of a taste for theatrical amusement in this country, which Mrs. Trollope is disposed at first to ascribe to the influence of the clergy. But as cessante causa cessat effectus, we suppose cessante effectu cessat causa.—If, as we hold, the same class of persons frequent the theatre in this country, and to the same degree as in Europe, all supposed cause for the contrary state of things falls to the ground. We admit, however, that there is a severity of manners somewhat greater in this country than in England, in that respect; or rather perhaps the fact is, that while there is one portion of the clergy who themselves frequent the theatre in England, and do not consequently object to its being visited by others, it is here wholly discountenanced for ministers of the gospel, and, generally speaking, for persons of what is called orthodox faith. Taking the theatre as it is, are they much in the wrong? Is not the morality of the stage, in its present condition as to the character of the entertainment, of many of the actors, and of the composition and deportment of the audience, such as to deprive it of all title to countenance? We are not foes to the stage; we believe it might be made a school of virtue. We do all justice to the exemplary characters of many of the dramatic profession in all countries; and honor them the more for their freedom from the vices, to which their calling exposes them. That there are not more such, we believe is the fault less of actors than the public; in whom the spring of the corruption resides. But, taking the entertainment of the evening from beginning to end,-play, interlude, and farce, combined with what must be heard and seen in the lobbies and galleries, does it happen, one time in a hundred,

that a father of a family would not regret having taken his children to the play?

The other amusements which Mrs. Trollope says we want are fêtes, fairs, merry-makings, music in the streets, puppet shows.' The very enumeration shows that there is nothing in this notion of a want of amusement. What precise kind of amusement Mrs. Trollope would have us understand is known in England as a fête, and which we Americans languish for the want of, we are at a loss to imagine. The circumstance, that the English language affords no name for it, leads us to think that Mrs. Trollope herself was at some loss for the specification. We remember to have heard of a Frenchman, who landed at Dover, in England, at the height of a general election, and having witnessed the usual quantity of tumult, dissipation, mobbing and fighting of such a scene, exclaimed ' quelle fête !' Fêtes of this kind are not unknown in some portions of this country, but are, upon the whole, less lively here than in England. The most animated electioneering contests, in almost every part of the United States, pass off without personal violence. Another of Mrs. Trollope's specifications is merry-makings;' but this is a term of exceedingly vague and comprehensive import, without any definite signification that we are acquainted with. There remain then fairs, music in the streets, punch, and puppet-shows, as the amusements which are unknown in America, and for lack of which the people are triste. Our American gravity, with all a reviewer's official dulness superinduced, will scarce suffice us to pursue this analysis.

To treat this subject, however, seriously; and since we have no fairs, to give the American reader an idea of what a fair is, we do not know that we can do better, than quote the German Prince's account of Donnybrook fair in Ireland, as presenting a picture of this kind of festival in one part of Great Britain, and by the comparison, which the Prince institutes, in the others.

'I rode out again to-day for the first time, to see the fair at Donnybrook, near Dublin, which is a kind of popular festival. Nothing indeed can be more national! The poverty, the dirt, and the wild tumult were as great, as the glee and merriment with which the cheapest pleasures were enjoyed. I saw things eaten and drunk with delight, which forced me to turn my head away quickly, to remain master of my disgust. Heat, and dust,

crowd, and stench, (il faut le dire,) made it impossible to stay long; but these do not annoy the natives. There were many hundred tents all ragged like the people, and adorned with tawdry rags, instead of flags; many contented themselves with a cross on a hoop; one had hoisted a dead and half-putrid cat as a sign! The lowest sort of rope-dancers and posture-masters exercised their toilsome vocation on stages and planks, and dressed in shabby finery, dancing and grimacing in the dreadful heat, till they were completely exhausted. A third part of the public lay or rather rolled about drunk; others ate, screamed, shouted, and fought. The women rode about, sitting two and three on an ass, pushed their way through the crowd, smoked with great delight, and coquetted with their sweethearts. The most ridiculous group was one, which I should have thought indigenous to Rio de la Plata; two beggars were seated on a horse, who by his wretched plight seemed to supplicate for them; they had no saddle, and a piece of twine served as reins.'

After describing a scene of a loving couple, both intoxicated, the Prince adds the following encouraging comparison, which may enable us to estimate, from the standard of Donnybrook, the state of refinement that reigns at the English fairs.

'My reverence for truth compels me to add, that not the slightest trace of English brutality was to be perceived. They were more like French people, though their gayety was mingled with more humor and genuine good nature; both of which are national traits of the Irish, and are always doubled by potheen, (the best sort of whisky illicitly distilled.)'

Now we will make any reasonable allowance for exaggeration, and repudiate altogether the comparison instituted to the disparagement of the English populace. Appealing only to the known character of the population in every part of Great Britain, and we will add, Europe, is it not a matter of necessity, that a fair, that is, a vast assemblage of people, of whom the majority come to amuse themselves, must necessarily be a scene of tumult, excess, riot, and vice, without any one assignable result, but that of impoverishing and brutalizing a large portion of those who attend it? The remark is universal, that even the blessed repose of the Lord's day is abused by large numbers of the operatives in England, to the purposes of criminal indulgence. It is a familiar observation, that the number