THE THEATRES.
To take as a criterion of the public appetite for theatrical enter- tainments, the prevailing character of the successful performances this season at the Winter houses, Majors as well as Minors, it would certainly appear that spectacle alone has power to attract— that show is an essential, if not the sole requisite. Yet we opine that such a conclusion would be unjust to that much-abused body the "pensive public ;" who, we verily believe, so far from. being greedy of glare and noise, is only tolerant of these prime ingredients in stage fare, simply because they are supplied in most abundance and the greatest perfection. No one of the novelties hitherto produced at Covent Garden, Drury Lane, the Adelphi, the Olympic, and the St. James's, has possessed any intrinsic excellence ; their claims to merit consisting chiefly, if not wholly, in the adventitious aids of scenic effect : while, on the contrary, at the Haymarket, where the scene-painter enjoys a sinecure and the office of property-man is almost a mockery, two plays —a revived tragedy and a new comedy—have carried the manager triumphantly through the season, by the force of their sterling qualities alone. The Lore Chase has been kept up with unabated spirit for nearly fifty successive nights; and The Bridal has only changed the scene of its popularity from the Haymarket to Covent Garden. People go to the theatre to seek excitement ; and they naturally like most that which gives them the strongest and the most pleasurable sensations; whether produced by the conflict of passion, as in The Bridal—by kindly humour, as in The Love Chase—or by splendid arid stirring scenes, as in VaLsha and Joan cl Arc. In short, they prefer the best of its kind, whatever it may be : and as show and glitter are surest and easiest provided, they get the most of that sort of commo- dity. At Covent Garden, the most popular of SHAKSPEARE'S plays has been Macbeth—owing to the aids of music and striking scenic ac- cessories: for there is nothing in the acting of any of them to attract as a novelty, though there has been enough to gratify as routine performances. It only shows how lasting is the charm of a fine play, when Hamlet and Othello, with every scene of which play- goers are familiar, can draw audiences without any very remarkable strength or variety in the cast of the characters. No new play has been produced, no old unacted drama performed, no forgotten one re- vived as yet : for the play of Riches, adapted from Massif:of:Ws City Madam, became familiar to the present generation of playgoers by ICEAN.S powerful acting; and its revival on Tuesday only gave it in three acts instead of five, and with MACREADY instead of KEAN. This explains the seeming apathy of the public towards the classic drama, and their exclusive fondneas for show ; both of which might be inferred from the circumstance of MACIVADY'S first successful hit in his Ma- nagerial career being the production of a mere show-piece.
'f lie Covent Garden Joan of Arc, as a spectacle, is one of the most splendid and picturesque of the historical and romantic kind ; and in completeness and effectiveness has never been surpassed. The drama, commonly a work of supererogation in these cases, is in this instance
rather an encumbrance than otherwise, since a considerable quantity of very loud and vehement speech is inflicted upon the ears, which the energetic gesticulation of the actors renders still further superfluous,— impressing on us more strongly than ever the conviction that in all such pieces the mute eloquence of pantomime would be an equally effective and lined' more agreeable vehicle of the tableaux than dialogue.
La rh.r to add to the excitement of the "strange eventful history " of the Maid of Orleans, poor Joan is made the victim of mortal and spiri- tual influences. She is in love with an English knight, by whose party her brother is slain, and her sister ravished : Saint Agnes exhorts her vivii voce from the shrine, illustrating her doggrel prophecies by visionary tableaux a magician is employed against her, who also exhibits shadowy pictures, Lar d invokes Satan himself to his aid ; and the Fiend, in the likness of a Iff,ck-mailed warrior, leads the Maid into an ambush, where she and her troops are captured. At the stoke, she is tortured by the appearance of her lover, who implores her to save herself and him by fighting against her country. It is not surprising, that she should run into the circle o fagots with alacrity, to escape from such perplexities ; but a- death by burning is not yet naturalized on the stage, she escapes f:',):11 the dames by stabbing herself. 'floe demand on the energies of Miss HIIDDART, who played the heroine, was incessant ; nor did she spare them : her voice and strength ri:most failed her at last, however. She must have envied the Evil Ono his mute character. The chivalric costumes of the knights, with their emblazoned shields, make a most brilliant show ; and the comnation of the King by the Maid of Orleans is an imposing display of pomp. But the most praise is due to the assault on the city of Orleans; which is represented with a rigour and animation that carries the effect of reality as far as it can go on the stage. The ambuscade, too, is admirably managed : the instantaneous apparition of a little army of soldiers from the bushes that conceal them, produces a magical effect. The burning pile is alarmingly real ; and when the French troops rush in and snatch up the blazing brands, the stage seems in one general conflagration. The play of Riches will never be popular the transitions from wealth to poverty, from tyranny to abjectness, that the "City Madam " and the spendthrift Luke both in turn undergo, are too sudden and vio- lent ; and so repulsive in their effects on the characters that they shock rather than interest. Nothing but the sheer power of MASSINGElt could bear out the situations. As it is, Luke's pretended repentance, his kindness of heart and generosity, appear so real, that the exposure of their hollowness makes us doubt for the moment the existence of virtue.
MACREADVS abasement, in his servile condition of lackey to his rich brother's wife, the City Madam, was a good specimen of "the Devil's darling vice " " pride that apes humility " this, and the mantling spirit of reserve which lie throws round his lowly condition, were peculiarities of the actor's manner in keeping with the character ; making the after change seem less improbable, while the full eflect of the contrast was produced. Miss TAYLOR, as the City Madam, ex- aggerated the already over-drawn character, to an excess amounting to buffoonery ; and carried her affectation so far as to make what should be real grief appear mockery—exciting merriment where pity should be felt.
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