"private" theatres were entirely roofed in from
the weather, and had pits furnished with seats,
whereas the area of the "public" theatre
consisted of a yard, in which the spectator stood,
and which was exposed to the weather, the roof
only protecting the boxes, and that even with
respect to the boxes, there was this distinction,
that at the "private" theatres there were
private boxes in the modern sense of the word,
whereas at the "public" theatres there was
nothing of the sort. That the "private"
theatres were intended for the recreation of a
higher, more luxurious, and more refined class
than the public, there is no doubt. The three
"private" houses in the olden time were the
Blackfriars, the Cockpit, and a theatre in
Salisbury-court; all the rest appear to have
been "public." Of these the Globe, situated
on the Surrey side of the water, belonged, as
well as the Blackfriars, to the King's servants,
who used it during the summer. Probably,
therefore, the rank of the Globe was higher than
that of the other "public" theatres; but, at the
same time, we may suppose that the King's
servants valued their summer less than their
winter audiences, and that when they crossed
the water they somewhat resembled the tragic
"stars" of modern times, who, when the
central theatres are closed, condescend to play in
the remote suburbs.

Though they then seem to have no cheap
galleries, we may infer from Hamlet's advice to
the players, that the occupants of the area
constituted the lowest section of the theatrical
public; but I have sometimes felt puzzled when
I heard the Prince tell of the "periwig-pated
fellow who could split the ears of the groundlings,
who for the most part are capable of
nothing but inexplicable dumb show and noise."
The subjects of Queen Victoria are less turbulent
than those of Queen Elizabeth or King
James, but I question whether the humbler
section of a modern audience would sit patiently
while one of the personages on the stage,
speaking words intended to be wise, went on
saying to another, "This would do very well
for the roughs in the gallery, who like nothing
but trash and rant, but when you come to the
educated ladies and gentlemen in the stalls, that
is another affair." Why, on the first day of the
performance of Hamlet, did the "groundlings"
consent to be so unceremoniously rated? Let
us suppose that the word "groundling" only
referred to the standing spectator of the area of
a "public" theatre, and could not be applied to
the seated occupant of the pit of the Blackfriars,
where the play was produced, and the difficulty
vanishes at once. This hypothesis, of course,
implies that the two kinds of theatre belonged to
totally different strata of society.

To return to our "riot." It is very clear
that even among the "public" houses, the Red
Bull, which stood at the upper end of St. John-street,
Clerkenwell, did not stand in high
repute. It was decidedly an unfashionable house,
and at the beginning of the reign of James the
First, its patrons were recreated by the
performances of the "Queen's servants." But
shortly after the completion of the Cockpit,
these same "Queen's servants" migrated to
Drury-lane, and acted in the new house. This
connexion between the Red Bull and the Cockpit
seems to have been long maintained, and as
late as 1630 we find the performers at both
mentioned as belonging to the same order of badness.

Now the Cockpit, as we have seen, was a
"private" theatre, with all the exclusiveness
proper to such establishments. This fact held
fast, we come, I think, to the real cause of the
"riot." The " groundlings" and other "roughs"
of the Red Bull, regarding themselves as the
natural patrons of "Queen Anne's servants,"
who were not a bit too good for them, follow
their inconstant favourites to a more fashionable
house, and find themselves encountered by a
system of high prices, private boxes, and
"exclusions" of every sort. Under these
irritating circumstances a feeling is generated,
which consists partly of that spirit of class
hatred which was manifested some years since
at New York, during the engagement of
Mr. Macready, and was partly a demonstration
against the "Upper Ten," partly by that dislike
of advanced prices which distinguished the
O. P. riots of Covent Garden in 1809.
Puritanical prejudice, implying an abhorrence of
the actor's profession, might possibly have had
some influence, by giving a sort of sanction to
the outrage, just as the rowdies of New York
might have fancied themselves actuated by a
patriotic feeling, when assailing an English actor,
who seemed to interfere with a native favourite.
But the puritanical element, if it had any influence
at all, was merely subordinate. The aristocratic
"King's servants," who played at the Black-friars,
and were the real representatives of the
drama, were not attacked, because they had
done nothing to offend the London mob.
"Queen Anne's servants," as renegade pets of
the democracy, had offended the mob grievously,
and therefore were marked out for destruction.

          A  BOTANIST'S  ADVENTURE.

WHEN I was twenty, botany was my passion.
Indeed, I am not sure that I am cured of it
yet. I never sit in a railway carriage and feel
myself borne at fierce express speed through a green
landscape without remembering regretfully those
days when I lingered on the wild mountain-side,
or plunged, eager and ardent as a knight of
romance, into the depths of the forest. His quest
was beauty in distress to deliver, or mighty Paynim
giant to lay low; mine was to discover some
fair flower sleeping in the shade of ancient trees,
or to snatch some cruel poisonous weed from its
lair. The knight was a happy knight, I have no
doubt; but I do not think he could be a happier
man than John Graves, your humble servant.

France was the scene of my chief exploits in
those days. My father had left England for
economy's sake, and settled at some distance
from Paris. The country around our home was
not interesting, botanically speaking; and I was in