ct is worthy the attention of M.
Carlier, the Prefet of Police, and of wiser heads than M. Carlier.
"_Selon qu'il est conduit_," said Richelieu, and he knew his nation
well; "_Selon qu'il est conduit le peuple Francais est capable de
tout._" I am no enemy of innocent recreation, as you are well aware, or
of harmless, convivial, social, or saltatory enjoyment. But if
lasciviousness, obscenity, or _des saletes_ be tolerated in public
places, a blow is struck at the very foundations of society. I may not,
even in a letter, enter into a minute description of these dances.
Suffice it to say, they would not be endured in England, even by women
who had fallen from the paths of virtue, unless their minds and hearts
were wholly debauched. You see, after so much light gossip, I end with a
sermon--a sermon which the least strait-laced would preach under the
circumstances."

THEATRICAL CRITICISM.

The following dramatic bulletin which appeared in a Dublin newspaper on
the first appearance of the celebrated Mrs. Siddons in that city, is
quite as good a critique and as free from blunders, as some which have
appeared in our own journals more recently:--

"On Saturday, May 30, 1784, Mrs. Siddons, about whom all the world has
been talking, exposed her beautiful, adamantine, soft and lovely person
for the first time, at the Smock Alley Theatre, in the bewitching,
tearful, and all melting character of Isabella. From the repeated
panegyrics in the impartial London newspapers, we were taught to expect
the sight of a heavenly angel; but how were we supernaturally surprised
into the most awful joy at beholding a mortal goddess. The house was
crowded with hundreds more than it could hold--with thousands of
admiring spectators who went away without obtaining a sight. This
extraordinary phenomenon of tragic excellence! this star of Melpomene!
this comet of the stage! this sun in the firmament of the muses! this
moon of blank verse! this queen and princess of tears! this Donellan of
the poisoned bowl! this empress of the pistol and dagger! this chaos of
Shakspeare! this world of weeping clouds! this Terpsichore of the
curtains and scenes! this Proserpine of fire and earthquake! this
Katterfelto of wonders! exceeded expectation, went beyond belief, and
soared above all the natural powers of description! she was nature
itself! she was the most exquisite work of art! she was the very daisy,
primrose, tube rose, sweet-briar, furze blossom,