glow of satisfaction. Here, after a seven years'
battle, the victory is gained. We shall hurry
off to the theatre and await impatiently the
rising of the curtain. "Alcidonis" has at
length achieved the object of her life, and we
shall see the gallant Spartans in their habits
as they lived, and perhaps we shall at last
come to the certain knowledge of what their
black broth was made of. The reader will
scarcely believe that we have five more years
to wait. The Sieur Lonvay De Lasaussaye's
hair begins to get grey. He has poured out
his life into those three acts. He has made
all the alterations required. The comic man
has become sedate and lacrymose to suit a
new performer who excels in the solemn; the
short kilt of another has been changed for a
flowing toga, as the performer labours under
bandy legs. " Alcidonis " is advanced in years;
for her representative has left off the juvenile
heroines, and undertakes only deserted wives
of thirty-three, or, at the most, maiden ladies
of "twenty-seven. The original hero has lost
his teeth, and now is the " heavy father; " the
original child of twelve years old is now twenty-
four, and about to make her husband happy
for the third time. Twelve years have changed
everything except the undying ambition of the
Sieur Lonvay and the unalterable vanities of
the corps dramatique.

"Three times," he says, "they had promised
me to bring out the play; three times they
had made me pay for the music and the
writing out of the parts; and three times
they forfeited their words on different
pretexts. Sometimes it was a début that had
to take place; sometimes it was something
else.

"I had made up my mind to every sacrifice;
and my facility only made the actors worse.
Some threw up their parts without any
reason; some on the most ridiculous
pretences; and others did not scruple to insult
me in the grossest manner. But worse than
this, they ran me into the most absurd
expenses. I had recommended, for instance,
that no gold or silver should appear among
the Spartans. This was in strict accordance
with history, of which, however, the
performers were, probably, profoundly ignorant;
but there was a stronger reason for it than
this—that the very plot of the piece depends
on the Lacedaemonian Law, by which no freeman
is permitted to wear either silver or gold.
What do you think they did to conform to
this recommendation? They bespangled the
dresses of my characters. Instead of bucklers
of copper, and spears tipt with iron, they gave
them coats of armour brilliantly gilt or
silvered; and to complete the absurdity, they
ornamented the warriors' shields with rubies
and precious stones."

Poor, vain, harassed, pompous, and most
illused Sieur Lonvay De Lasaussaye! after eighty
years of oblivion, to have all your griefs and
oppressions recorded by your own hand!
Delayed for twelve years; insulted by the
actors; mimicked by the candle-snuffers, and
held in hopeless contempt by the call-boy;
how strong within you must have glowed the
love of dramatic fame! What visions by night
and day must have risen before you of
shouting theatres; the boxes crowded, the
pit rising in a tempest of excitement, like a
great sea in storm, the galleries tumultuous,
and the treasurer drawing an enormous
cheque to repay you for all your troubles,
sorrows, insults, and disappointments. I will
merely call the reader's attention to the
painful fact, that the recalcitrant company
had it in its power to ruin the aspiring
author by the costliness of dresses and decorations,
of which, it will appear in the sequel,
a large proportion fell to his share. I pass
on, in the meantime, to the result of this
incubation of so many years.

"After such tricks and insolences, at last
came the day of execution; eh! Dieu,"
adds, "quelle exécution! Every word that
had been left in my play as it was written,
and had been printed in 1768, was listened
to with great applause; all that the comedians
had added or altered was very ill received.
The greater part of the actors, being hostile
to me, mumbled their parts rather than spoke
them, or gave a different meaning to my
words. One of them came up to me and had
the politeness to express a very unfavourable
opinion of my play. I replied that many
persons of sense and talent thought quite
otherwise. 'Oh, then,' said he, 'it follows
that I am a fool!' The logical conclusion
was so evident, that I had nothing to say
against it, and left him to the enjoyment of
his reasoning powers. Another, on giving
out the play for future representation,
dexterously misplaced his words, and produced
a great shout of laughter by announcing,
instead of a new piece in prose, a piece in new
prose. It was a poor triumph, I thought, and
many persons of my acquaintance were greatly
offended at his buffoonery. However, it was
acted four nights. I then wished to withdraw
it for alterations and restorations. They
persisted in running it the fifth night, and
declared it was forfeited to them by the rules
of the theatre, and that I had no farther
property in my own play."

Up to this point the Sieur Lonvay has
evidently the worst of it. Alcidonis, I have
no doubt, was as stupid and unimpassioned as
Lycurgus could desire; but there seems little
room for a law-suit, even under the advice of
a jury of attornies. Now, however, comes
the curious part of this antediluvian process.
The laws regulating the Théâtre Français
are quoted as if they were Acts of Parliament.
The mode in which authors were paid is
clearly expressed, and it is for the purpose of
giving these and other details illustrative of
the stage of Louis the Fifteenth, that I have
unrolled the dramatic mummy, and made him
once more revisit the glimpses of the lamps.

In the days of our fathers, the Reynolds'