conscious and awkward in the boxes if he thinks that he is known? And
does he not sit there in spite of this uneasy feeling, and run the
gauntlet of impertinent looks and whispers, only to get a little
by-admiration, as he thinks? It is hardly to be supposed that he comes
to see the play--the show. He must have enough of plays and finery. But
he wants to see a favourite (perhaps a rival) actor in a striking part.
Then the place for him to do this is the pit. Painters, I know, always
get as close up to a picture they want to copy as they can; and I should
imagine actors would want to do the same, in order to look into the
texture and mechanism of their art. Even theatrical critics can make
nothing of a part that they see from the boxes. If you sit in the
stage-box, your attention is drawn off by the company and other
circumstances. If you get to a distance (so as to be out of the reach of
notice) you can neither hear nor see well. For myself, I would as soon
take a seat on the top of the Monument to give an account of a first
appearance, as go into the second or third tier of boxes to do it.
I went, but the other day, with a box-ticket to see Miss Fanny Brunton
come out in Juliet, and Mr. Macready make a first appearance in Romeo;
and though I was told (by a tolerable judge) that the new Juliet was
the most elegant figure on the stage, and that Mr. Macready's Romeo was
quite beautiful, I vow to God I knew nothing of it. So little could
I tell of the matter that at one time I mistook Mr. Horrebow for Mr.
Abbott. I have seen Mr. Kean play Sir Giles Overreach one night from the
front of the pit, and a few nights after from the front boxes facing the
stage. It was another thing altogether. That which had been so lately
nothing but flesh and blood, a living fibre, 'instinct with fire' and
spirit, was no better than a little fantoccini figure, darting backwards
and forwards on the stage, starting, screaming, and playing a number
of fantastic tricks before the audience. I could account, in the latter
instance, for the little approbation of the performance manifested
around me, and also for the general scepticism with respect to Mr.
Kean's acting, which has been said to prevail among those who
cannot condescend to go into the pit, and have not interest in the
orchestra--to see him act. They may, then, stay away altogether. His
face is the running comment on his acting, which reconciles the audience
to it. Without that index to h