expression of their feelings, would assist an actor when his genius for a moment had deserted him.  Such excellence was not long hereditary, and in the decline of this singular art its defects became more apparent.  The race had degenerated; the inexperienced actor became loquacious; long monologues were contrived by a barren genius to hide his incapacity for spirited dialogue; and a wearisome repetition of trivial jests, coarse humour, and vulgar buffoonery, damned the Commedia a soggetto, and sunk it to a Bartholomew-fair play.  But the miracle which genius produced it may repeat, whenever the same happy combination of circumstances and persons shall occur together.

I shall give one anecdote to record the possible excellence of the art.  Louis Riccoboni, known in the annals of this theatre by the adopted name of Lelio, his favourite amoroso character, was not only an accomplished actor, but a literary man; and with his wife Flaminia, afterwards the celebrated novelist, displayed a rare union of talents and of minds.  It was suspected that they did not act all’ improvista, from the facility and the elegance of their dialogue; and a clamour was now raised in the literary circles, who had long been jealous of the fascination which attracted the public to the Italian theatre.  It was said that the Riccobonis were imposing on the public credulity; and that their pretended Extemporal Comedies were preconcerted scenes.  To terminate this civil war between the rival theatres, La Motte offered to sketch a plot in five acts, and the Italians were challenged to perform it.  This defiance was instantly accepted.  On the morning of the representation Lelio detailed the story to his troop, hung up the Scenario in its usual place, and the whole company was ready at the drawing of the curtain.  The plot given in by La Motte was performed to admiration; and all Paris witnessed the triumph.  La Motte afterwards composed this very comedy for the French theatre, L’Amante difficile, yet still the extemporal one at the Italian theatre remained a more permanent favourite; and the public were delighted by seeing the same piece perpetually offering novelties and changing its character at the fancy of the actors.  This fact conveys an idea of dramatic execution which does not enter into our experience.  Riccoboni carried the Commedie dell’ Arte to a new perfection, by the introduction of an elegant fable and serious characters; and he raised the dignity of the Italian stage, when he inscribed on its curtain,

     “CASTIGAT RIDENDO MORES.”

MASSINGER, MILTON, AND THE ITALIAN THEATRE.

The pantomimic characters and the extemporal comedy of Italy may have had some influence even on our own dramatic poets:  this source has indeed escaped all notice; yet I incline to think it explains a difficult point in Massinger, which has baffled even the keen spirit of Mr. Gifford.