him to the workhouse, that stimulants were
prescribed. It being nobody's business to give them
to him, he had, instead, an aperient, a sedative,
and a syrup ; and arrival at the Holborn Union
workhouse, well physicked, unfed, and half fainting
from debility. Here, he had neither food nor
medical advice until the next day, but was placed
in a hot bath, because a pauper nurse thought
him " by no means clean ;" he became (not
unnaturally) worse in the night, and his condition was
pronounced dangerous when the doctor saw him
some hours afterwards. Bed-sores supervened,
and were not discovered by the doctor until
that vague period, " three or four days," had
elapsed, so a pauper nurse bestrewed them with
fullers'-earth, to the miserable pauper's injury.
He was placed on a bed several inches too short
for him, and, after some weeks of anguish and
neglect, the poor wretch had so strong a
conviction that he was being killed by ill-treatment,
that he preferred dying of starvation and
disease outside, and had himself moved away.
Subsequently he was admitted to St. Bartholomew's
Hospital, where he died the day after his
admission, of " exhaustion" arising from
workhouse bed-sores and neglect.

The circumstances of this death were
sensationally held to be a conclusive testimony to
the uncertainty and irresponsibility attending
the administration of our parochial system; and
it was sensationally urged that, although Daly
was completely within the circle of that system,
he died for want of careful watching and suitable
food.

Richard Gibson perished in St. Giles's
workhouse, encrusted with corruption and filth,
covered with vermin, and without proper
nourishment or medical attendance. After protracted
suffering, he was mercifully killed off with
gin, surreptitiously administered by a drunken
pauper nurse. The medical officer had passed
the sick man's bed, daily, without asking after
his condition, or knowing how his disease
progressed, or whether his bed-clothes were foul
or clean; and a parochial coffin would have
concealed Gibson's sufferings and wrongs without
boards, Bumbles, or the public, being the wiser,
but for an audacious pauper named Magee, who
wrote to the sitting magistrate at Bow-street,
and so caused a " sensational " inquiry,
sensational reports, and a sensational shock of horror
and indignation, wherever men and women — not
belonging to the Poor Law Board — could read,
and think, and feel.

Let us ask again what does Mr. Gathorne
Hardy mean by sensational ? Is it sensational
to tell the truth? Is it sensational to call public
attention to a noteworthy example of a costly
board existing under false pretences, and showing
mankind how not to do it ? Is it sensational
to be poor, abject, wretched, dying? Is
it sensational in a public officer, when he
has nothing to say for his department, meanly
to shelter himself under the miserable slang
of the hour? Is the commonest humanity,
the narrowest charity, sensational? What is
Mr. Hardy's opinion of the New Testament? A
sensational performance surely ! The good
Samaritan ? A highly sensational character.
The twelve Apostles? What a sensational dozen !
Their Divine Master? Inconveniently and
notably sensational! There was a time when
men symbolically expressed their names in what
was called a " rebus." Perhaps the newest
sensational effect is for a public servant to do
this in a new way, and thus Mr. Hardy
sensationally exhibits himself as the most hardy man
alive. The House of Commons may be all that
Mr. Disraeli says it is, or it may be the
different thing that most other men know it to be ;
but in either case it is surely remarkable that
there is no man in it to put a notice on the
paper " to ask the Right Honourable the Chief
of the Bumbles for his definition of
sensational."

PLAYS AND PLAYERS.

PART II. THE OLD PLAYERS.

REMOVING stage and theatres, and the actors
and actresses, and the talk about the stage, and
the readable books of memoirs, what a blank
would be left!

Insensibly the theatre influences us more than
we imagine. Our novelists and romancists have
a hankering to write their chapters in dramatic
form, and your true forcible writer, when he
comes to an exciting piece of business, will, if
he have any skill, conjure up a stage before him,
light up scenery and foot-lights, and see the
whole in busy action. Our women dress
themselves as for the stage, and for stage
effect. Stage talk and stage gossip, proposals
for new plays, green-room rumours, critiques,
who does not love these things? They have
a dim and indescribable charm. Above all stage
memoirs, the anything but brief chronicles of
the time, make almost fascinating reading. For
here garrulity, a vulgar vanity and candour,
blend with a dramatic abundance of detail, that
give a unique value. Some are good, some
bad, some utterly worthless, because written
with a genteel affectation and unfaithfulness.
But they are curious nevertheless.

Old Cibber's Apology has been put at the head
of the list. It is in truth a book apart from
the rest, and of almost a philosophical quality.
But, to get well behind the scenes and see all
the littlenesses of that day, we should take
up Mrs. or Miss George Anne Bellamy. A
more curious, rambling book: purposeless,
dateless, yet full of colour and detail.
Execrable English, the language of a housemaid
turned into a fine lady by fine clothes and plenty
of money.

The works of actor writers would fill many
a shelf. We have Chetwoode, perhaps the
oldest, Victor, Hitchcock, Edwin, Reynolds,
Michael Kelly, Lee Lewes, and many more;
but from them stand out two of remarkable
merit, admirable, graphic, honest, accurate,
and most entertaining — Tate Wilkinson and
O'Keefe.