rival. I have seen some
splendid representations in the National Theatre, with a propriety in
scenery and costume which is seldom exceeded even in our great theatres.

Indeed, in three seasons, Mr Wallack has done much to improve the
national taste; and from his exertions, the theatres in general in
America may be said to have been much benefited. But there is one
objection to this rivalry between the Park and National; which is, that
the _stars_ go out too fast, and they will soon be all expended.
Formerly things went on very regularly: Mr Price sent out to Mr
Simpson, duly invoiced, a certain portion of talent for every season;
and Mr Simpson, who is a very clever manager, first worked it up at New
York, and then dispatched it to Boston, Philadelphia, and the other
theatres in the Union. But, now, if Mr Simpson has two stars sent to
him, James Wallack comes home, and takes out three; whereupon, Mr Price
sends out a bigger star; and so they go on; working up the stars so
fast, that the supply will never equal the demand. There are not more
than two or three actors of eminence in England, who have not already
made their appearance on the American boards; and next season will
probably use them up. It is true, that some actors can return there
again and again; as Power, who is most deservedly a favourite with them,
and Ellen Tree, who is equally so. Celeste has realised a large
fortune. Mrs Wood, and the Keeleys, were also very great favourites;
but there are not many actors who can venture there a second time; at
least, not until a certain interval has elapsed for the Americans to
forget them. When there are no longer any stars, the theatres will not
be so well attended; as, indeed, is the case every where. To prove how
fond the Americans are of anything that excites them, I will mention a
representation which I one day went to see--that of the "Infernal
Regions." There were two or three of these shewn in the different
cities in the States. I saw the remnants of another, myself; but, as
the museum-keeper very appropriately observed to me, "It was a fine
thing once, but now it had all gone to hell." You entered a dark room;
where, railed off with iron railings, you beheld a long perspective of
caverns in the interior of the earth, and a molten lake in the distance.
In the foreground were the most horrible monsters that could be
invented--bears with men's heads, growling--snakes darting in and out,
hissing--he