little exertion. These iron tramways are laid
along the floor of the second stage, exactly
underneath the slits above; it will be obvious
that the pole which descends through the slit
may, by means of the travelling crane which
runs along the tramway, be pushed to any part
of the stage where it (the pole) is wanted.

Here, then, is the formidable operation of
scene-shifting reduced to the most simple of
proceedings. Formerly, all that will now be
done under the stage was done on the stage.
There were grooves—raised grooves on the
stage—into which the scene was lifted in two
halves by staggering carpenters; then other
grooves descended from above, into which the
tops of the two halves of the scene fitted—not
without a very visible crack up the centre. The
reader has often from his place at the side of
the theatre seen those upper rows of grooves
fall over with a flop when they were wanted.
The scene at length got successfully, though not
without much resistance, into these grooves, and
was pushed forward noisily and awkwardly by
the carpenters, and was generally successful in
retaining a perpendicular position, and not
showing much of the bare lights and general
shipwreck behind. Under the new system no such
pushing, struggling, splitting, and joining, will
ever be beheld; and among its many
advantages, one may specially be mentioned. The
old necessity of having raised grooves on the
stage, in which the bottom of the scene might
slide, prohibited the possibility of pushing any
scene or object more than a certain distance
from the side. These grooves could never be
carried far on to the stage, lest the actors
should tumble over them. Now this is not the
case, according to the new system. Slits, unlike
raised grooves, can be carried completely across
the stage, and, accordingly, any scene or piece
of a scene can be pushed anywhere. It may
be mentioned, by the way, that those slits,
or portions of slits, which are not required
for any particular performance, are filled up
with wooden slides prepared for the purpose,
so that no flaw whatever appears on the stage's
surface. And while speaking of the "boards,"
it may also be here set down that this new
stage is not cut up and disfigured by trapdoors.
Owing to the numerous supports which
uphold it from beneath, and which are placed at
very short intervals, it has been rendered
possible to divide the planking of the stage into
short lengths. It is, in fact, all in pieces, perhaps
six feet long by four or five wide, any one
or all of which can be taken up at any moment
with perfect ease: so that, in fact, there are
trap-doors in every part of the stage, which are
available when they are wanted, and which,
when they are not wanted, do not appear,
disfiguring the stage and impairing those illusions
which we go to the play to cultivate.

And, still keeping to this question of trap-doors,
it is necessary to add that, whenever
such things are required under this new
arrangement, their working will be greatly facilitated
by the counter-weight system. Attached
to the trap will be a set of ropes, and these,
passing through pulleys, will have an amount of
weight attached to them exactly proportioned
to that which the trap is intended to carry.
Thus, supposing that a trap is to descend with
a person of a certain weight standing upon it,
the counter-weight attached to the ends of the
cords by which the trap is lowered, will be the
least bit in the world lighter than the individual
to be let down, and vice versâ if the individual
is to be raised.

Up to this time we have, in examining this
stage machinery at the Lyceum, tied ourselves,
so to speak, down to earth; we have kept to
the stage itself: that wonderful platform, that
small epitome of the great world whereon we
"play our parts." We have also taken a peep
below the surface, exploring the dark places
from which the bad spirits, the earth-demons,
and the ghosts of the "sheeted dead" arise. It
is time now that we should soar upward a
little, and see what has been done in that ethereal
region from which the clouds descend: the
head-quarters of those more benignant spirits
which counteract the workings of the demons in
the cellarage.

On either side of that great enclosed space
which we have called the actors' part of the
theatre, standing out from the side-walls are two
strongly-constructed wooden galleries, one above
the other. They are raised high above the stage,
high above the top of the proscenium, and are
of course entirely invisible from the front of the
house. As you look up at them from the stage,
you observe that they traverse its whole depth
from front to back; they strike you, moreover,
as resembling to some extent the galleries of a
Swiss chalet. Ascending a sort of well-staircase
made in the wall of the theatre, you at
length emerge into these galleries, and find
yourself again on board ship, and surrounded
by spars, ropes, and pulleys. The two galleries
communicate first of all by means of the well-
staircase spoken of above, for the use of landlubbers;
and also by means of short perpendicular
ladders, by which daring professionals
can spring up from one to the other in a cat-like
manner, and in less than a quarter of the
time consumed by those who go round by the
stairs. Nor is this all. Numerous light plank-bridges,
guarded by a handrail, and suspended
from the roof of the theatre by iron rods, are
carried at a height far above the ken of the
audience, completely across the stage from the
range of galleries on the right to those on the
left, and back again. By means of these bridges
and the ladders already mentioned, the quickness
of communication between the different parts of
the theatre is facilitated to a remarkable degree,
and since of course by means of this facility of
communication one individual may be in many
places within a very short space of time, it
follows that a much smaller staff of carpenters
and scene-shifters will suffice for the working of a
piece, than was required under the ancient system.

From these galleries, ranged, as has been
said, high up, on each side of the stage, the