The re w burletta, A Dream ef the Future, produced
at. the Olympic on Monday, affords ma:erials for fellowing up our comparison of the management here and at the Adelphi. Victorine has evidently been the model ; but, inetead of a grisette choosing between vice with splen- dour and honest poverty, we have only a prudent young lady preferring a bashful lover to none at ale—a very wise resolve, but hardly requiring the aaeney of u vision to bring it about.
The attraction of this piece is in the reality, finish, and elegance of the seise in thte : it may be termed a social spectlicle. You first see a trio of gentlemen sitting over their wine in a well-furnished dining-room, with a properly handsome display of plate and glass; then a couple of young ladies in a pretty drewing-rome, dressed for a party, receiving their respective lovers; and next, the same two sisters in theirdressing. room, retiring for the night. Here comes in the dream ; in which the two land-wee girls are metamorphosed, one into a fat old eard-playing spinster, the other intb the wrinkled end wretched wife of a heartless superannuated coxcomb ; and the sheepish lover is become a staid, white- haired, :ma wealthy physician, who, when he recognizes the altered features o: his once adored mistress, repulses her with more than need- ful rudenc.;. For the time you seem to live in the scene, by reason of its verisimilitude: in this respect the drama is in keeping, for it is literal to tameness, like the author's Country Squire ; and like it, too, not wholly free from exaggeration, spite ut its literalness. It is not only not dramatic, but it wants a few sprightly touches of wit and setire to redeem its insipidity. The costume and accessories seem almoet too good for the piece, Vesams, as the fat, flaring, ill-temeered old tabby, one of a coterie of card-playing harpies at Bath, acts end dresses to admiration—only her voice is hardly sour enough. CilARLER MATHEws was of necessity a quieter gentleman in the sheepish lover : his personation of the gouty old mummy of a doctor, is perfect ; and the likeness to his father is very striking. VINING is more at his ease as the dashing profligate young officer, than as the old beau; but in both he verges on caricature. Here, in all that concerns the stage, the management is faultless; but even the more refined audiences of the Olympic desiderate a little stronger excitement of a pleasurable kind—champagne instead of eau sucree.
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