CHRISTMAS THEATRICALS.

Tor 1.1ristmas pieces proper are of two kinds, those with a hark- a,ie,ale and those without. " In other words," exclaims an impatient ;',..tiug reader, " some are pantomimes mid some are not : so tell us at

o:we, Mr. Critic, which is the best pantomime." Not so fast, my .ittie fellow ! your distinction does not hold good; for pantomime is :Jew become so conversational, that it exists only in name : the huge

1,1acaids substituted for oral communications might almost be dispensed izb, so freely do Clowns and Pantaloons exercise their parts of -,.eels. This, and the want of all connexion in the tricks and changes, !ve ;educed the harlequinade to the condition of a medley of scenes iiit-:.nsformations, of which Harlequin and Clown are but the

showalen ; filling up the intervals with dancing, fighting, filching,

ii xi fe'as of strength. Dramatic consistency and coherence is --vlaffly lost sight of; the characteristics of the several personages '11%! 110 longer preserved ; and there is not the semblance of a chase.

Pantomime, in short, has lost its character, and with that its interest mai .-aecess. The tricks, however good, fall flat, because they are mere gratuitous ingenttities : the slaps, and tumbles, and rows—the

glernais enormities of Clown, and the witty contrivances of Harlequin cm.not fail of exciting some laughter ; but they do not tell with the int of repartee—the practical jokes want pointand purpose. Every.

'ic ly complains that pantomimes are not what they used to be, and that

" Introduction" and the scenery are the only good parts. Clown i, voted vulgar, end Pantaloon a bore : Harlequin does not take such as he used, and Columbine is an indifferent dancer. JOEY Gni- ■ 101 is departed, 'tis true, and the existing race of clowns are coarse aiai humourless; but in JOLY'S latter day pantomime was not what it OM 'II his early time, notwithstanding he was the life and soul of it.

Some dull folks have even gone so far as to sneer at the absurdity 4 psittoniime, as scarcely fit even for children in these march-of-intel- ect days. Preposterous ! One or two of the theatres tried to cut arid shut their doors against Harlequin ; but the audiences were wiaer, snd the managers, having found out their own mistake, welcomed :le 1;, us of motley back again. The inhabitants of the nursery and

,elme.l.room ore not the only part of the community to whom panto- e a real enjoyment : there is some reason to doubt the sense of 'Anybody who could find nothing to laugh at even in the worst—bad as

!bey are. But it is provoking to be reduced to short allowance at our Chti ,ti 'as feast of laughter, when the mirth-creating fare might easily "oe made so much better. We have shown wherein the grand defects of tiear entertainments consist; and it is the fault of the concocters they do'ut follow our recipe and make them better. And now to reply to the interrogatory of our juvenile querist. eat Guden's is incomparably the best pantomime, as it generally • iodstd, it is one of the best we have had for many a year, and it ;a. cap:tally got up. The introductory story of peeping Tom of ntry is told s‘ith humorous exaggeration ; the tricks and transfor- is azons are voey ingenious, and work well ; the scenery is beautiful throoehout ; and as for STANFIELD'S Diorama, it is an exhibition of ita:11, worth sitting out the dullest pantomime to see. Our first introduction to Peeping Tom is in his cooperage, where Tom and his men, in paper caps and aprons, are busy at work. Master font has an eye that might pierce the hole that he peeps through ; and

ASS other features seem as if they had lost themselves on the broad disc Ji Lis face. The Mayor and citizens of Coventry bring him a petition sigt., of the of a roll of floor-cloth : so, taking a pen, tild oily l.ve teen plucked from the wing of the roc seen by Siele.d—first mIiig it with his pocket-knife, whose blade opens like

:1 a. of a crocodile—he mites his name in Brobdignagian text. .uicyre sal:scribe it with huge crosses ; each receiving for • ; a fi;e1.11y kitk in the rear, or a playful tap with the adre, that scada them reeling. Tom, seated astride the corpulent roll t f parchment, like hulnu on u barrel, and attended by the Mayor and corporation on 1.01,11.11orses, is borne into the presence of Earl Leo-

• ; alas keep, his sta'e at the Castle of Berlehampstead,—a fortress

ot prodigious atreligth and size, with a horn at the portal as Lig as a cornucopia. The Earl is seated at dinner, tke-astke with his Lady Godiva, whose plumpness indicates her amiable qualities : The Earl — a very truculent-looking personage, with a nose like a bill-hook, and a most choleric complexion—is attended by a nu- merous retinue of armed followers ; whose swinish visages have a most rags tictis aspect. Furious at being interrupted in his meal, the Furl thrusts Lack Tom with his silver fork, the size of a fire-shovel, and contemptuously rejects the petition ; proffering, however, the well.

ATAOWII COIlditi011 on which be will grant its prayer. The lovely Go- diva, after is paroxysm of modest confusion, (during which she faints

away in the arms of the gallant Tom,) relying on the exuberance of her trvsses, that stream over her expansive bust and trail on the ;roen il like strands of oakum, blushingly consents. Fired by her

charms, Tom is seized with an irresistible desire to behold their luxu- riant redundance divested of drapery : he seeks her chamber, but is attacked by her enraged spouse ; whose battle-axe proves harmless against the fiat candlestick that Tom snatches up for a shield, and the vigorous thrusts of the candle ; and the Earl, in his chagrin at the escape of his plebeian antagonist, veritably tears his hair off by hand- fuls. Tom, defying decency and death, bores a peep-hole in his shutter, about the diameter of a thirty-two pounder; but, though he stretches his neck to an alarming length, the hole rises above his reach. At last a flash of lightning bursts open the house, and the procession is disclosed—the Atlantean shoulders of the fair Godiva, veiled in her carrotty tresses, being just visible above the back of the horse she is making energetic efforts to mount. Tom is transformed into Harle- quin; the pantomimic business begins—and the fun ends. The most amusing of the changes, is that of a quiet lodging-house for invalids, where Pantaloon engages a bed, into a factory of copper- smiths, braziers, tinmen, &c. with the accompaniments of all possible noises in the street. The successive changes of "the World Inn," are more complicated than comical. The allusions to passing topics are slight, and not very happy : the best is the change of the Mirror of Parliament Office into a shop for the sale of weathercocks. The last grand scenic transformation of the banquet at Guildhall into the Royal procession, with the Queen's carriage advancing up the stage, is most complete ; but its effect is injured by coming after STANFIELD'S Dio- rama,—which also casts the beautiful scenes by MARSHALL, that pre- ceded it, into the shade. As the Diorama has no connexion with the pantomime, and is the crowning glory of the show, it would be better put last : after it was over, indeed, the house rose to go away. Whether it is that we have So long missed STANFIELD from the scene, or that he has matured his skill, we know not; but certainly the present appears to be superior to any of his former productions of the kind. It is a series of views in different parts of the Continent ; forming one continuous succession of moving scenery, and approaching as near to illusion as we can conceive painting capable of. In execu- tive power, the pictures rival those of the namesake in the Regent's Park ; and, were each view exhibited separately, would be equal to it. Nothing, indeed, is gained by its continuity ; whilst the effect of each view is marred by the difficulty of adapting the variations of light, and of managing the junction of the scenes. It opens with a glimpse across the Gulf of Venice, through an archway, showing a white city at the edge of the blue waters. To it succeeds a lovely, view of Lecco, in the Milanese ; the rocky mountain towering in the distance in a roseate atmosphere of sunlight. Then comes a change to snow and moonlight, in a view of the summit of the Col de Bonhomme, Pied- mont: the white waste of snow and the cold shadows of the rocky pinnacles, are palpable reality—the moon appears actually, to shed light over the scene. In the following view, Huy on the Meuse, there is a most ingenious representation of a troop of soldiers crossing a bridge, in which the figures not only move, but appear larger as they approach. A delicious fresh marine view in the British Channel, with a line-of-battle ship as large as the reality, veering round in the indi-

cated completes this triumph of the scenic art. We have not all the intermediate points, nor a tithe of the beauties of the painting : suffice it to say, that for solidity of the near objects and the atmospheric effect of the distance—for brilliancy of colour, united with local truth—this succession of pictures may vie with the finest produc- tions of the easel.

C. SMITH, of Guy Fawkes and George Barnwell celebrity, is Peeping Tom, and W. H. PAYNE, the tyrant Earl. BEDFORD. makes the part of a Town-Crier very amusing : his manner of ringing the bell even is laughable. SMITH is only a tolerable Harlequin; and JEFFERINI, the Clown, has more agility than drollery.