to “Kirkman’s Collection of Drolls,” printed in 1672, representing a view of a theatrical booth.  In time, however, it was discovered that the branches obstructed the view of the spectators, and were otherwise incommodious; they then gave place to small circular wooden frames furnished with candles, eight of which were hung on the stage, four on either side.  The frontispiece to the Dublin edition of Chetwood’s “History of the Stage,” 1749, exhibits the stage lighted by hoops of candles in this way, suspended from the proscenium, and with no foot-lights between the actors and the musicians in the orchestra.  It is probable that these candles were of wax or tallow, accordingly as the funds of the theatrical manager permitted.  Mr. Pepys, in his “Diary,” February 12th, 1667, chronicles a conversation with Killigrew, the manager of the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane.  “He tells me that the stage is now, by his pains, a thousand times better and more glorious than ever heretofore. Now, wax candles and many of them; then, not above 3 lb. of tallow. Now, all things civil:  no rudeness anywhere; then, as in a bear-garden,” &c.  The body of the house, according to Malone, was formerly lighted “by cressets or large open lanthorns of nearly the same size with those which are fixed in the poop of a ship.”

The use of candles involved the employment of candle-snuffers, who came on at certain pauses in the performance to tend and rectify the lighting of the stage.  Goldsmith’s Strolling Player narrates how he commenced his theatrical career in this humble capacity:  “I snuffed the candles; and let me tell you, that without a candle-snuffer the piece would lose half its embellishment.”  The illness of one of the actors necessitated the pressing of the candle-snuffer into the company of players.  “I learnt my part,” he continues, “with astonishing rapidity, and bade adieu to snuffing candles ever after.  I found that nature had designed me for more noble employment, and I was resolved to take her when in the humour.”  But the duties of a candle-snuffer, if not very honourable, were somewhat arduous.  It was the custom of the audience, especially among those frequenting the galleries, to regard him as a butt, with whom to amuse themselves during the pauses between the acts.  Something of this habit is yet extant.  Even nowadays the appearance of a servant on the stage for the necessary purposes of the performance—­to carry chairs on or off, to spread or remove a carpet, &c.—­is frequently the signal for cries of derision from the gallery.  Of old the audience proceeded to greater extremities—­even to hurling missiles of various kinds at the unfortunate candle-snuffer.  In Foote’s comedy of “The Minor,” Shift, one of the characters, describes the changing scenes of his life.  From a linkboy outside a travelling theatre he was promoted to employment within.  “I did the honours of the barn,” he says, “by sweeping the stage and clipping the candles.  Here my skill and address were so conspicuous that