1829.) The Theatres. 399 
some eminent orator, much worthier of the king’s horsewhip. How- 
ever, the wheel of the world is always going round, and the quidnuncs 
may live in hope. 
The Adelphi has had a prosperous year. Monsieur Mallet has 
behaved like a true English gentleman, entertained his friends in the 
most handsome manner, and dismissed them with a most particular invi- 
tation to them all to gratify him with the frequent enjoyment of his 
open house. Yates is a clever fellow in all ways, a genius in his own 
way, and if, by this time ten years he is not a member of parliament, or 
an alderman, or of the firm of Rothschild and Company, or dispersing 
his half million in some inordinate Covent Garden or Drury Lane spe- 
culation, we are false prophets, and worse mathematicians, and know 
nothing of the geometrical progression, beginning with five thousand 
a year, and are as little acquainted with the natural course of the thea- 
trical soul. 
The Dublin theatre is basking in the broadest beams of royalty and 
loyalty. The Duke and Duchess of Northumberland have gone to the 
theatre, surrounded with such a halo of Aides-de-camp as never were 
seen since the original raising of the militia. The duke’s whole gallant 
battalion disbanded; all the Percys are in arms, and red coats—all 
ready to take any thing for the good of their country—and the duke, 
who, though the descendant of the Hotspur blood (diluted a little 
through the female line), has not figured much as a warrior before, feels 
the martial ardour burn within, and proclaims, that at the head of his 
faithful vassals he has no fear of suffering any place under the crown to 
be vacant for an hour. Foreign levy or domestic treason cannot sub- 
due. the strong hold of the pension list. Duncan sleeps well, and we 
wish him joy of his dreams. The performances fixed on for the viceregal 
entertainment were Simpson and. Co., and Paul Pry. What glory to 
Mr. Poole, who should lose no time, but take the world at its will, go 
over and get himself knighted. All the theatrical woodcocks, the birds 
of passage, are hurrying over as fast as their wings can carry them to the 
land of sunshine and salaries. Kean, whom we heard of last as making 
_ a highway to his hereditary palace in the Isle of Sky, and whom we 
_ supposed to be either drowned, carried off by the “spirits” of that 
enchanted soil, or claiming the honours of chieftainry among his favou- 
rite squaws of Smokill-arrow mawkies, the legitimate heir of the great 
Tomahawk, and happy spouse of the majesty of the Mohawk’s daughter, 
has suddenly transpired in the form of a candidate for an engagement 
of three nights on the Dublin stage. Macready, whom we concluded 
equally lost, and likely to come to the human ear only in some rumour 
from Kentucky, has likewise transpired in the vicinage of this all- 
engrossing theatre. And so ardent is the theatrical passion at this 
period, that the Lord Lieutenant has granted his license for the erection 
_ of a second theatre, to be dedicated to the improvement of the native 
genius for the drama and composition ; Ireland having been, hitherto, as 
much accustomed to be indebted for those things to England as for her 
petticoats, having two theatres, being confessedly the only way to cure 
the national distaste or deficiency, which has hitherto made a regular 
bankruptcy affair of the only one that it had. However, the new paten- 
tee, Mr. Jones, having tried all the fortunes of theatres, knows, we hope, 
as well how they may be raised, as he certainly does how they may be 
