It had to do with “Darby and Joan,” and reminded me of J.L.  MOLLOY’S delightful song with that title.  The rest of the music was not very striking.  Even to those who hold that the plot of an Opera is only of secondary importance, Sweet Nancy could not have appeared to be exactly teeming with incidents.  However, it was very nicely played by Miss HUGHES, and that now mature Lancashire Lad, the aforesaid HENRY NEVILLE.  Without declaring that I should like to see it every evening for a thousand years (which I believe is a facon de parler even in China), I certainly could sit it out again.  If I wished to be a fault-finder I should say that the piece is too long, and seems all the longer because some of the characters are supposed to represent schoolboys, and a girl of thirteen.  The adapter is Mr. BUCHANAN—­a poet and a playwright.  This gentleman, I believe, has made many other pieces (more or less) his own, with (more or less) success.  He seems to have a knack of turning old plays into new ones.  I live in hope that when I next visit this great Metropolis I shall find that he has re-written the School for Scandal, and brought Hamlet up to date.

Yours always, A CRITIC FROM THE COUNTRY.

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[Illustration:  “TOO MANY COOKS—!”

THE PAGE-BOY (W.H.  SM-TH).  “AT ANY RATE, I’VE SAVED THE CHEESE!!”]

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THE OPERA-GOER’S DIARY.

[Illustration:  The Hanging Committee.]

Monday to Saturday.—­Nothing particular this week.  Second July Meeting at Newmarket took a lot of people away, and the thunder, hail and rain frightened a lot more away on Thursday, so may as well discuss Esmeralda, which I hadn’t time to do last week.  Rather a mixed affair to start with when you have a French libretto, set by an English Composer, and played at the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden.  No matter.  A big success for everyone concerned, from DRURIOLANUS downwards.  No one could have wished for a better Esmeralda than Madame MELBA, though she did not make the most of that first charming song, “L’Hirondelle.”  One Swallow, however, doesn’t make an Opera, and Madame MELBA soon pulled herself together, and threw herself into the work when she saw Mons. JEAN DE RESZKE, as Phoebus, winning fresh laurels.

The Quasimodo of M. DUFRICHE, of the Vibrato school, was dramatically good, but not great; but Claude Frollo was both great and good.  These two have been defrauded of their rights by the undramatic Librettist, who has done about as little as possible with the excellent materials at his command.  What a scene might have been the final one between Quasimodo and Claude, when Claude Frollo is pitched over the battlements.  I forget what becomes of Quasi; but if he stabs himself, or is stabbed, that would be quite sufficient for dramatic justice and effect.  Then, of course, the absurd ceremony used by Clopin, and the real unwillingness of Esmeralda to become Gringoire’s wife, would dispose of the marriage, unless Gringoire were previously got rid of (for I don’t remember how the novel ends) and Esmeralda would be united to Phoebus, while Fleur-de-Lys could marry De Chevreuse, or anybody else.