de bonnes fortunes.  Cold, precise, and pedantic, he tells the objects—­not of his flame—­but of his declarations, that he is consumed with passion, dying of despair, devoured with love—­talking at the same time in parenthetical apologies, nicely-balanced antitheses, and behaving himself with the most frigid formality.  His bow (that old-fashioned and elaborate manual exercise called “making a leg”) is in itself an epitome of the manners and customs of the ancients.

Madame Vestris and Mr. C. Matthews played Lady and Lord Whiffle—­two also exceedingly difficult characters, but by these performers most delicately handled.  They are a very young, inexperienced (almost childish), and quarrelsome couple.  Frivolity so extreme as they were required to represent demands the utmost nicety of colouring to rescue it from silliness and inanity.  But the actors kept their portraits well up to a pleasing standard, and made them both quite spirituels (more French—­that Morning Post will be the ruin of us), as well as in a high degree natural.

All the rest of the players, being always and altogether actors, within the most literal meaning of the word, were exactly the same in this comedy as they are in any other.  Mr. Diddear had in Lord Dangerfield one of those parts which is generally confided to gentlemen who deliver the dialogue with one hand thrust into the bosom of the vest—­the other remaining at liberty, with which to saw the air, or to shake hands with a friend.  Mr. Harley played the part of Mr. Harley (called in the bills Humphrey Rumbush) precisely in the same style as Mr. Harley ever did and ever will, whatever dress he has worn or may wear.  The rest of the people we will not mention, not being anxious for a repetition of the unpleasant fits of yawning which a too vivid recollection of their dulness might re-produce.  The only merit of “Court and City” being in the dialogue—­the only merit of that consisting of minute and subtle representations of character, and these folks being utterly innocent of the smallest perception of its meaning or intention—­the draughts they drew upon the patience of the audience were enormous, and but grudgingly met.  But for the acting of Farren and the managers, the whole thing would have been an unendurable infliction.  As it was, it afforded a capital illustration of

[Illustration:  ATTRACTION AND REPULSION.]

* * * * *

TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR!

The dramatic capabilities of “Ten Thousand a-Year,” as manifested in the vicissitudes that happen to the Yatton Borough (appropriately recorded by Mr. Warren in Blackwood’s Magazine), have been fairly put to the test by a popular and Peake-ante play-wright.  What a subject!  With ten thousand a-year a man may do anything.  There is attraction in the very sound of the words.  It is well worth the penny one gives for a bill to con over those rich, euphonious, delicious syllables—­TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR!  Why, the magic letters express the concentrated essence of human felicity—­the summum bonum of mortal bliss!