rogression of incident
whatever. _Lord Dangerfield_ tells you, in the first scene, he is trying
to seduce _Lady Whiffle_, and you know he won't get her. Directly you hear
that _Sir Paladin Scruple_ has declared in favour of _Miss Dangerfield_,
you are quite sure she will marry the son; in short, there is not the
glimmer of an incident throughout either department of the play which you
are not scrupulously prepared for--so that the least approach to
expectation is nipped in the bud. The whole fable is carefully developed
after all the characters have once made their introduction; hence, at
least three of the acts consist entirely of events you have been told are
going to happen, and of the fulfilment of intentions already expressed.

One character our enumeration has omitted--that of _Mr. Winnington_, who
being a lawyer, stock and marriage broker, is the bosom friend and
confident of every character in the piece, and, consequently, is the only
person who has intercourse with the two sets of characters. This is a part
patched up to be the sticking plaster which holds the two plots
together---the flux that joins the _mettle_some _Captain Dangerfield_ (son
of the Lord) to the sentimental _citoyenne_ _Barbara Bearbinder_. In fact,
_Winnington_ is the author's go-between, by which he maketh the twain
comedies one--the Temple Bar of the play--for he joineth the "Court" with
the "City."

So much for construction: now for detail. The legitimate object of comedy
is the truthful delineation of manners. In life, manners are displayed by
what people do, and by what they say. Comedy, therefore, ought to consist
of action and dialogue. ("Thank you," exclaims our reader, "for this
wonderful discovery!") Now we have seen that in "Court and City" there is
little action: hence it may be supposed that the brilliancy of the
dialogue it was that tempted the author to brush away the well-deserved
dust under which the "Discovery" and the "Tender Husband" have been
half-a-century imbedded. But this supposition would be entirely erroneous.
The courtiers and citizens themselves were but dull company: it was
chiefly the acting that kept the audience on the benches and out of their
beds.

Without action or wit, what then renders the comedy endurable? It is this:
all the parts are individualities--they speak, each and every of them,
exactly such words, by which they give utterance to such thoughts, as are
characteristic of him or herself, each aft