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Those Oriental fabulists who delighted in illustrating the doctrine of fatality would have found the history of Drury Lane Theatre a fertile source of apologues. Destiny has evidently marked out that huge esta- blishment as an arena for athletic display, and every attempt on the part of successive managers to evade her stern decrees proves lamentably abortive. We had seen the legitimate drama fail, and we had seen opera fail, from causes so evident that not the failure but the hope of success was the object of wonder • but still we ventured to hope that Mr. Smith, the present lessee, by making the house a sort of Porte St. Martin, might keep it up in a dramatic form sufficiently important to occupy a distinct place in the chronicles of a large metropolis. There was one peculiarity of this establishment which we knew had not been turned to sufficient account, and that was—its size. A company equal to that at any other theatre of pretensions was not to be expected, the histrionic article having been bought up elsewhere; and the same thing might be said of the best scene-painters. But still a spectacle on a large scale, and striking as a combination of masses, was possible ; and if the same sort of thing had been done at Drury Lane as we find at the Theatre National in Paris, where they take the whole career of a Hoche or a Massena as a theme for a military show, we should have said that something was done at any rate, and that old Drury had obtained a position, if not one of great glory. But gymnastics assert their rights ; Destiny will not be cheated " St0Va Neceseitaa
Chaves trabales et cuneos manu Gestapo ahena "-
declares that acrobats shall reign at Drury Lane. The feature of the present week has been an American gymnast named Sands ; who, by putting a peculiar pair of shoes on his feet, is enabled to walk along a polished surface not on all-fours but as a respectable biped, with his head downwards. A new dram; in three acts, called The School for Eings, is brought out on the same night as Mr. Sands, but is barely endured. Its obscurity baffles all attempts to understand it; its dulness extinguishes all desire to make such attempts. A new "romantic drama," called The Turkish Lovers, is also brought out on that same eventful evening; but proves to be the no plus ultra of melodramatic and Terpsichorean commonplace. Five new acts go for nothing in the night's entertainment; the sole event that excites interest is the performance of an athlete, which lasts about five minutes. Nothing can appear less hopeful than the state of Drury Lane, save for acrobatic purposes.
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