cidents, the indecency, the coarse blasphemy, and the vulgar
wit of this piece, should find admirers among the public, and procure
reputation for the author? Could not the Government, which has
re-established, in a manner, the theatrical censorship, and forbids or
alters plays which touch on politics, exert the same guardianship
over public morals? The honest English reader, who has a faith in his
clergyman, and is a regular attendant at Sunday worship, will not be a
little surprised at the march of intellect among our neighbors across
the Channel, and at the kind of consideration in which they hold their
religion. Here is a man who seizes upon saints and angels, merely to put
sentiments in their mouths which might suit a nymph of Drury Lane. He
shows heaven, in order that he may carry debauch into it; and avails
himself of the most sacred and sublime parts of our creed as a vehicle
for a scene-painter's skill, or an occasion for a handsome actress to
wear a new dress.

M. Dumas's piece of "Kean" is not quite so sublime; it was brought out
by the author as a satire upon the French critics, who, to their credit
be it spoken, had generally attacked him, and was intended by him, and
received by the public, as a faithful portraiture of English manners.
As such, it merits special observation and praise. In the first act you
find a Countess and an Ambassadress, whose conversation relates purely
to the great actor. All the ladies in London are in love with him,
especially the two present. As for the Ambassadress, she prefers him
to her husband (a matter of course in all French plays), and to a more
seducing person still--no less a person than the Prince of Wales!
who presently waits on the ladies, and joins in their conversation
concerning Kean. "This man," says his Royal Highness, "is the very pink
of fashion. Brummell is nobody when compared to him; and I myself only
an insignificant private gentleman. He has a reputation among ladies,
for which I sigh in vain; and spends an income twice as great as mine."
This admirable historic touch at once paints the actor and the Prince;
the estimation in which the one was held, and the modest economy for
which the other was so notorious.

Then we have Kean, at a place called the Trou de Charbon, the "Coal
Hole," where, to the edification of the public, he engages in a fisty
combat with a notorious boxer. This scene was received by the audience
with loud exclamations of delight, and co