nd the "quaterly" have not the least effect upon him!
And this gentleman has lived many months amongst us; admires Williams
Shakspear, the "grave et vieux prophete," as he calls him, and never,
for an instant, doubts that his description contains anything absurd!

I don't know whether the great Dumas has passed any time in England; but
his plays show a similar intimate knowledge of our habits. Thus in Kean,
the stage-manager is made to come forward and address the pit, with
a speech beginning, "My Lords and Gentlemen;" and a company of
Englishwomen are introduced (at the memorable "Coal hole"), and they all
wear PINAFORES; as if the British female were in the invariable habit of
wearing this outer garment, or slobbering her gown without it. There was
another celebrated piece, enacted some years since, upon the subject
of Queen Caroline, where our late adored sovereign, George, was made to
play a most despicable part; and where Signor Bergami fought a duel with
Lord Londonderry. In the last act of this play, the House of Lords was
represented, and Sir Brougham made an eloquent speech in the Queen's
favor. Presently the shouts of the mob were heard without; from shouting
they proceeded to pelting; and pasteboard-brickbats and cabbages came
flying among the representatives of our hereditary legislature. At this
unpleasant juncture, SIR HARDINGE, the Secretary-at-War, rises and calls
in the military; the act ends in a general row, and the ignominious fall
of Lord Liverpool, laid low by a brickbat from the mob!

The description of these scenes is, of course, quite incapable of
conveying any notion of their general effect. You must have the
solemnity of the actors, as they Meess and Milor one another, and the
perfect gravity and good faith with which the audience listen to them.
Our stage Frenchman is the old Marquis, with sword, and pigtail,
and spangled court coat. The Englishman of the French theatre has,
invariably, a red wig, and almost always leather gaiters, and a long
white upper Benjamin: he remains as he was represented in the old
caricatures after the peace, when Vernet designed him.

And to conclude this catalogue of blunders: in the famous piece of
the "Naufrage de la Meduse," the first act is laid on board an English
ship-of-war, all the officers of which appeared in light blue or
green coats (the lamp-light prevented our distinguishing the color
accurately), and TOP-BOOTS!

Let us not attempt to deaden the