Although the assumption of male attire by ladies, and of
female attire by gentlemen, belongs to the rarities of actual life, we find that on the stage this species of disguise is always considered the most natural thing possible. A gentleman, who would be perfectly astonished to hear that his sister had dressed herself in man's clothes, and had walked from the Bank to Charing Cross without discovery, would not, if he sat down to write a farce, conceive that he in the slightest degree violated probability, if he clapped a pair of pantaloons on the most delicately-reared heroine, and conducted her in perfect safety through a ball, a duel, a camp, or a street-row. No matter what be the age or country of the writer, he con- siders the means perfectly legitimate. Let him be an Englishman, writing to amuse the subjects of Queen Elizabeth or of Queen Victoria—let him be a Frenchman, entertaining the Grand Monarque or the modern frequenters of the Palais Royal—let him be a Spaniard, edifying Philip the Fourth— on this expedient he is sure to pitch in the course of his dramatic career. At the Adelphi, the predilection of Madame Celeste for characters in male attire gives an additional charm to pieces of the disguising class; and we accordingly have a new work, evidently from the French, called Flying Colours, in which she plays a lady disguised as a gentleman, and Webster enacts a gentleman disguised as a lady. This is a foundation somewhat old, to be sure, but never, we suppose, to be considered worn-out; and on the present occasion the superstructure is amusing enough, and affords op- portunities for certain verbal jokes, which, though they might not be ex- actly acceptable in a drawingroom, are in general highly relished by thea- trical audiences. Webster and Madame Celeste both put forth all their powers.; and the piece rattles off with merriment not to be surpassed.
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