17 JUNE 1843, Page 11

THE THEATRES.

TUE termination of Mr. MACREADY'S management of Drury Lane has been attended with even greater éclat than its commencement. Since the final close was announced, numerous audiences have flocked to witness the last repetitions of favourite performances, that were dis- tinguished for a completeness and elegance of ensemble such as we shall not soon see again : and to crown all, the Queen went in state on Mon- day ; adding the lustre of Royal sanction to the popular approval of MACREADY'S Shaksperian revivals. The novelty of a Royal visit placed the box-office in a state of siege ; and, in addition to every spot in front of the curtain, the stage itself was crowded by hun- dreds of ladies and gentlemen, in evening dress, who blended with the performers during the singing of the National Anthem. The appear- enee-of the house on the entrance of the Royal party was most ant- mating: The loyalty of the public was never more enthusiastically demon- strated than by the shouts that greeted the Queen and Prince on this their first and last public appearance at Drury Lane since Mr. MACREADY became its manager. The play commanded was As You Like It, so finely cast and beautifully got up: the Queen stayed out the farce of the Thumping Legacy, and, as well as her husband, laughed heartily at KEELEY'S comicalities.

On Wednesday, when Mr. MACREADY appeared for the last time on these boards, in his twofold character of actor and manager, old Drury was again crowded to suffocation : every corner of the house that could command a view of the stage, or a hearing of the performance, was filled ; and the glass in every box-door had a pair or two of eyes behind it. The play was Macbeth, with the usual efficient cast ; STAUDIOL as Hecate being the only novelty : the German vocalist gave to this part characteristic significance, and lent the powerful aid of his magnificent voice to the choruses. At the fall of the green curtain, a loud call was raised for MACREADY ; the audience being on the qui vice for a fare- well address, though none had been promised. The delay necessary to give the actor time to change his theatrical costume for a private dress was impatiently endured ; and some began to think that the manager, after all, would " die and make no sign ": at last the curtain rose, and Mr. MACREADY came forward. The whole mass of people rose up as by one impulse, shouting, clapping, and waving hats and handkerchiefs, while bouquets were showered down from every side ; the resumption of seats being followed by a volley of stamping that sounded like the rolling fire of musketry. So soon as silence could be obtained, Mr. MACREADY, who bad by this time recovered his self-possession, spoke as follows ; with a deliberate calmness, that an occasional faltering of his voice showed to be the result of feelings re- strained with some difficulty.

" Ladies and Gentlemen—As the present management of this theatre most clone to- night, I now appear before you to lay down my office, and give some account of my stewardship. It has been currently reported, and geuerally believed, that the want of encouragement from the public, and the consequently low nightly receipts. are the causes of my resignation. 1 beg leave to contradict the assertion. (Load cheers.) By a reference to my accounts of Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres, I find that the nightly average of last season's receipts was greater than those of both my Covent Garden seasons ; and that even in this year of unprecedented depression and increased taxation, the average of our nightly receipts is only 13/. below that of my last Covent Garden season, which. with profits to the management, paid 7,0001. rent to the pro- prietors, and that it exceeds by 211. per night the average of my first Covent Garden, season, which paid a rent of more than 5,5001. If not at present amounting to a re- munerating return, such a result, at such a time, may, in my opinion, be confidently taken as an earnest of future and permauent success. It certainly has not discouraged me. The question that obviously arises as to the application of such receipts is answered, I think, by the property itself. Upon taking possession, I found, I may with- out exaggeration say, a poor and scanty collection of lumber. The whole female wardrobe would have been dearly valued at 401.1 not one scene fit to be placed upon the stage! not even a rope in the whole building to work a scene. The conditiou of my occupancy—that ' the theatre should be put into a tenantable state,' could not be fulfilled. A very inadequate sum, in annual deduction for rent, was allowed towards its fulfilment ; and thus the burden of restoring the various departments of this large establishment from decay and mitt to their present state. has fallen really upon myself. I do not urge these facts in accusation of individuals; but against the law. which gives to persons totally unacquainted with the drama and with all appertaining to the dramatic art, an irresponsible power over it, every impartial voice should be lilted up. ("Hear, hear I '9 " A brief history of my own connexion with the two large theatres will. I think, demonstrate the partial operation of this oppressive law. Covent Garden Theatre, it may be remembered, during my tenancy was raised by public favour from a degraded position into repute and estimation. The treatment 1 received from its proprietors justified me in applying to the then Lord Chamberlain for a personal liceuce —for new permission to exercise my art —to pursue my rightful calling without infringement of the law. My application was refused. At Drury Lane Theatre my exertions and my sacrifices have been much greater ; and proportionately larger results have been ob- tained, inasmuch as the drama has been reestablished in this patent theatre, from which the patent holders themselves had suffered it to be excluded. The principal performers, ladies and gentlemen, have testified their confidence in my system, by deliberately consenting to hazard one-third of their incomes in its support; and I have volunteered myself still further sacrifices towards perfecting what is so far advanced : but as I cannot subject myself to the liabilities required of me. I have reluctantly and with deep regret resigned my charge. The consequence is. both these large theatres are now untenanted. The holders of their patents are unable themselves to present the glorious works of Shakspere to an English audience. and yet are armed i.y the law with power to forbid their representation elsewhere. For were I now, after all 1 have given and endured to maintain the drama is these theatres—were I excluded by cir- cumstances, as I now am, from them—to attempt in a theatre lately licensed by the Lord Chamberlain for the performances of brutes and brute-turners—were Ito attempt there the acting a legitimate play, the law, ' with all their might to urge it on; would be put iu force-to prevent or to punish me. (" • Shame, shame! ") May I not ask for what public benefit such a law is framed, or for what one good purpose it is per- sisted in " In regard to the proprietors of this theatre, let me once again, and emphatically, disclaim all intention of imputing blame individually : for many of them I entertain the highest respect and esteem : it is the law under which they act that I complain of, and condemn as the drama's worst enemy.

" In conclusion, let me merely add, that I have endeavoured to redeem throughout my management, every pledge of my introductory address. I have endeavoured to make your national theatre worthy of Shakspere and of our country. Is this attempt I hope I Save not entirely failed. I have, at least, striven my utmost ; and the encou- ragement I have received from you would have been sufficient to sustain me in the struggle, if, as should have been the case, this theatre had been adequately appointed.

"For that encouragement, ladies and gentlemen, I return you my warmest acknow- ledgments. To the respectable portion of the public press I am anxious to offer the ex- pression of my gratitude for its sympathy and aid ; and with my own, with the per- formers' thanks, let me indulge the hope that time may bring about a better state of things, and that I may yet again, under happier auspices, be honoured with your favour and approval. " With a feeling of sorrow, but no despondency, ladies and gentlemen, I respectfully and most gratefully take my leave."

This speech was delivered with the air and tone of a man who felt mortified and disappointed at being compelled to relinquish an enter- prise undertaken with hope, prosecuted with energy, and abandoned with reluctance ; and who was anxious to acquit both the public and himself of all participation in the cause of failure. Mr. MACREADY'S emphatic denial that " want of encouragement " was the cause will surprise many : and we must confess, that in our opinion, and according to his own showing, the experience of the past can only be regarded " as an earnest of future success " by a very sanguine and confident disposition. The calculations of figures are merely comparative, and that with a brief and not very flourishing period at another theatre ; the average receipts of the present reason being below those of the last at Drury Lane, and below the last of Mr. MACREADY'S management of Covent Garden, though above the first. That the " return" has not been " remunerating," is admitted ; and when in addition to this we heir of " sacrifices" made by the manager and volunteered by the company, we naturally conclude that a theatre cannot be prosperous which requires such sacrifices. We believe it to be pretty near the truth, that Mr. MACREADY'S losses at Drury Lane consist of the money sunk at the outset in fittings and properties for the theatre, and the value of his services both as actor and manager during two seasons. It may be a question whether the proprietors or the lessee are to be at the expense of stage-fitti ngs and decorations ; but wardrobe, scenery, and other properties, we believe arc always furnished by the lessee : some- body, however, must be at the expense of them all ; and the average annual outlay for these things alone, in addition to the rent, and salaries of three or four companies, amounts to so large a sum that nothing short of an almost unvarying succession of crowded houses can be a remunerating return. The master evil is the immense size of the great theatres; which not only entails enormous expenses for show merely, but, by raising the expectations of the public, renders them more difficult to be pleased, and, from the great.: demands made on the physical exertions of actors , disqualifies many from being able to please. This is the effect of the patent monopoly ; which Mr. MACREADY justly condemns as the drama's " worst enemy ": it is ruinous to managers, injurious to actors, and not even profitable to the holders of the patent right ; while to the public it operates as a virtual denial of the entertainment they prize. It is time that this "patent" right to do the drama wrong should be looked into, and the stage be freed from these parchment shackles—if, indeed, they exist, which seems doubtful. The jurisdiction of the Lord Cham- berlain, too, is become absurd and obsolete : it seems to be exercised in baulking John Bull's indulgence of his taste for theatrical entertain- ments, after the fashion of the state physician who regulated the dishes on the table of Sancho Panza when he was Governor of Barataria : no sooner is a favourite dish set before him, than at a touch of the wand it is whisked away. Mr. MACREADY'S denunciation of the patent mono- poly is the severest blow it has ever received ; and the fact that the legitimate drama is shut out from both the patent theatres, by the acts of their proprietors, is conclusive against it.