piazza to the Theatre, the doors were closed against them by the falling in of the buildings, and upwards of twenty persons who were unable to escape, were either burnt to death or buried in the ruins.

In the February following, a similar catastrophe befel the splendid Theatre of Drury Lane, which had been built but a few years before. This being the largest and most elevated building in the metropolis, and being composed of materials peculiarly combustible, exhibited, during the two or three hours in which it became a prey to the flames, one of the most sublime spectacles ever witnessed. In every street within half a mile of the Theatre the light was intense, and the energy of the flames was so great, that pieces of burning wood of a foot superficies were carried, by the direction of a moderate wind, above two miles, the whole atmosphere in the same direction being filled with small pieces, in a state of combustion.

All the music in score, and hundreds of manuscript plays, and a great variety of theatrical curiosities, which had been preserved under

successive managements, were lost by these fires. In no case was it ascertained how they originated; but it was at the time feared that they were occasioned by some religious fanatic of that class who imagine that, in spite of their salutary effect in refining the taste, and improving the manners of the people. Theatres are merely temples of Satan, and, therefore, destruction is an acceptable service to God.

LIFE'S TRAGEDY, BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
MAN's life's a Tragedy, his mother's womb,
From which he enters, is the 'tiring room;
This spacious earth, the Theatre; and the
Stage,

That country which he lives in :-Passions,

rage,

Folly, and Vice are actors.-The first cry,
The prologue to the ensuing Tragedy :-
The former act, consisteth of dumb shows;
The second, he to more perfection grows;
I' th' third, he is a man; and doth begin
To venture Vice, and act the deeds of sin;
I' th' fourth declines; I' th' fifth, diseases clog
And trouble him:-then Death's his epilogue.

CHARLOTTE CIBBER.

COLLEY Cibber had a daughter of the name of Charlotte, who married a Mr. Starke. She was brought up to the stage; but her subsequent life was one continued series of misfortunes, affliction, and distress, which she sometimes contrived a little to alleviate by the productions of her pen. About the year 1755, she had written a novel for the press, "which," says Mr. Samuel Whyte, who relates the melancholy tale, "I accompanied my friend, a book seller, to hear read. She was at that time a widow: her habitation a wretched thatched hovel, situated on the road to Islington, not very distant from the New-River-head; where, at that time, it was customary for scavengers to deposit the sweepings of the streets. The night preceding, a heavy rain had fallen, which rendered this extraordinary seat of the Muses nearly inaccessible, and we could only approach, by wading almost knee-deep in the mud. We did not attempt to pull the latchstring, but knocked at the door, which was opened by a tall, meagre, ragged, figure, with a blue apron, indicating, what otherwise was doubtful, that it was a female before us; a perfect model for the Copper Captain's tattered landlady,

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that deplorable exhibition of the fair sex, in "Rule a Wife." She, with a trembling voice, and constrained smile, desired us to walk in. The first object that presented itself was a dresser; clean, it must be confessed, but wretchedly furnished. To the right, we perceived the mistress of the house, sitting on a broken chair, under the mantle-piece, by a small fire. At the authoress' feet, on the flounce of her dingy petticoat, reclined a dog, almost a skeleton, who saluted us with a snarl :-' Have done,' said she, Fidele, these are friends."

"The tone of her voice was not harsh; it had something in it humble and disconsolate, a mingled effort of authority and pleasure. Poor soul! few were her visitors of that description; no wonder the creature barked! A magpie was perched upon the top ring of her chair; and on her lap was placed a pair of mutilated bellows-the pipe was gone. These were used as a succedaneum for a writing-desk, on which lay displayed her hopes and treasure, the manuscript of her novel; her inkstand was a broken tea-cup; her pen was worn to a stump; a rough deal board, with three hobbling supporters, was brought for our convenience; on which, without further ceremony, we

contrived to sit down, and enter upon business. "The work was read, remarks made, alterations suggested, and agreed to, and thirty guineas demanded for the copy. The squalid hand-maiden, who had been an attentive listener, stretched forward her tawny neck, with an eye of anxious expectation. The bookseller offered five guineas; our authoress did not appear hurt; disappointments had rendered her mind callous; however, some altercation ensued, which terminated by the bookseller doubling his first proposal, which was accepted."

Such is the story of the once admired daughter of Colley Cibber, poet laureate, and patentee of Drury-Lane Theatre, who was born in affluence, educated with care and tenderness, and who, though possessing considerable talents, terminated her miserable existence on a dunghill !

THE PRINCE OF ANNAMABOO, AND STEPHEN KEMBLE.

WHEN Stephen Kemble was manager at Newcastle, and the houses were rather flat, no less a person arrived in town than Prince Annamaboo, who offered his services for a very moderate con