in the fitness and capacity of those, who may be selected to pass judgment on their tenders to the stage, I have not the same confidence. This important task of deciding upon the elegibility of dramatick compositions offered to the stage, has sometimes been confined to one, sometimes in the hands of a committee, and at other times so involved in mystery, that the candidate for acceptance knew not who were his judges, nor could easily find out the channel, through which to make his approaches to the secret tribunal. Now as it cannot be for the honour, or advantage, or repose of the conductor of a theatre that discouragements should be thrown in the way of men of talents, who might otherwise be dis posed to write for the stage, nothing seems more easy than to give promptitude and security to an intercourse between parties, who seem to have a common interest, and no real cause for disagreement.

The proprietor's object is, to have a variety of dramatick novelties, and out of these to select such as shall be judged most likely to attract the publick and ensure success.

The man who offers his production for the stage, naturally wishes and requires to be secured against the mortifying necessity of waiting for an answer tediously postponed, and, perhaps, after much solicitation at length discovering that his unhappy manuscript has been mislaid or lost. He can ill submit to have his offers treated, and his feelings tortured in this manner. He is undoubtedly entitled to receive a speedy and respectful answer, and has a right to know by whom his work has been read, and of course, who it is that is responsible for the judgment, that has been passed upon it.

If these positions are admitted, the remedy is obvious. The only thing wanting is, to appoint the read

er, and adjust the rules. What plea can any writer have for discontent, if a period were named for all offers to be made, and a time limited, within which all answers should be given? No one need subject himself to be announced as the author of a rejected piece, if he subscribed his direc tion and withheld his name. The accepted author only would be summoned to a revisal of his drama at a conference with the reader, who would be prepared to suggest whatever might be thought of to improve, and perfect it for representation, before the parts were cast, and it was recited in the Green room.

Should it be asserted, that the eventual remuneration, which the stage holds forth, is encouragement enough for every man to write, that can write, I dissent from that assertion, believing, as I do, that there are many, with whom emolument is but a secondary object, who are fully qualified to write well and ably for the stage, and only want facility of access to it.

But if it only be contended, that where the property is, the right of judgment ought to be, I think so too. Therefore let the proprietor, who accounts himself competent to the labour and the duty of the task in question, undertake it, and adopt, if he shall see fit, or as far as he sees fit, the accommodating mode above proposed.

If he does not choose to undertake it in his own person, let some man be sought out, by experience, temper, punctuality, and good manners, fitted to conduct a business, which, however delicate and difficult it may be, would in my opinion, under prudent management, produce effects very highly favourable to the interests of theatrical property, the restoration of the legitimate drama, and to the general improvement of the taste and genius of the age we live in.

WHAT a dissatisfied generation is that of the criticks! The very volume before us, although we have perused it with pleasure, cannot escape a reprimand; and even perhaps may be deemed censurable. It is certainly as impolitick, as it is unpolite, for a book to thrust itself on the reader without a single word of introduction, preface, apology, or address. In this instance, we know not whether the present be an original edition, or reprinted from an American copy; nor, if it be the former, for what reasons England is first favoured with it. In this we blame the author; but, we confess, that we no less blame ourselves for wishing to find in a traveller information which we have no reason to suppose it was his object to obtain, nor was it, probably, in his power.

The condition of the people in the south of France, or indeed in any part of that kingdom, so lately as in the years 1807, 1808, excites an interest which is highly favourable to a writer. Happily for himself this traveller pursued a route through the most enchanting districts of France: districts proverbially known as the residence of health, and amenity; as the abode of the goddess of love, and gaieté de cœur.

:

Mr. Pinkney left Baltimore in America, for Liverpool, in April 18 7: from Liverpool he visited London; and, the vessel having some connexions in Calais, he entered France by that port whence he travelled by the direct road to Paris. At Paris he remained a short time; and quitted that eity in company with Mr. Younge, the confidential secretary to Mr. Armstrong, the American ambassadour, the lady of Mr. Younge, herself a French woman, and her nicce, Ma

demoiselle St. Sillery, who, "with the single exception of her aunt, was the handsomest woman he had yet seen in France." We must state, for the information of our readers, that Madame Younge was the niece of our friend, M. Lally Tollendal, so well known by his tragedy of Strafford, his pleadings for the reversal of his father's sentence, in which he succeeded, some years after his father's death; and lastly, for his eloquent Plaidoyer for the unfortunate Louis XVI. We understand that he is now a Préfet of the Corsican !!....

The route taken by this agreeable society was by Chartres, Nantes, Tours, Blois, Nevers, and Moulins, to Lyons: from Lyons to Avignon, Aix and Marseilles, where our author's tour terminated, and he embarked for America.

For a journey of pleasure nothing could be better selected than the route, the company, and the season; for a journey of information, we should have chosen another course. Unluckily, too, towards the close of the excursion, when our author enters on provinces the state of which we particularly desire to know, his time is shortened by events; and he travels most rapidly, where we could have most earnestly requested his stay. For so long a time have we been excluded from the south of France, that descriptions of that country are now recommended by their novelty; and we are curious to be informed to what degree the character of the people is affected by the scenes they have wit nessed. In truth, however, it has sustained scarcely any perceptible variation; and Mr P. informs us, that it is a star.ding rule in France to forget as much as possible the blessings of the French revolution; and to

chasers for his cattle, and where, from the openness of the climate in winter, the crop must necessarily rot before he can consume it. For the same reason, his clover cultivation becomes as useless. To say all in a word, I know not how an English or an American farmer could make a favourable purchase in France, though the French government should come forward with its protection. The habits of the country have become so accommodated to its agriculture, that they each mutually support the other, and a more improved system can only be introduced in the proportion in which these national habits can be fundamentally changed. But such changes must necessarily be gradual and slow, and must not be reckoned upon by an individual."

If these reasonings be applicable to a part of France between the British channel and the capital, we may assure ourselves that the interiour and southern districts offer ample confirmation of them: and Mr P. repeatedly, and even frequently, finds such instances.

"I have frequently had occasion to speak of the slovenly agriculture of the French farmers; and I am sorry to have to add, that the fertility of the provinces of Nivernois and the Bourbonnois is rather to be imputed to the felicity of their soil and climate than to their cultivation. There is certainly a vast proportion of waste land in these provinces, which only remains waste, because the French landlords and farmers want the knowledge to bring it into cultivation. Many hundreds of acres are let at about twelve sols (sixpence) per acre, and would be sold at about a louis d'or, which in three years, under English management, would be richly worth thirty pounds. What a country would this be to purchase in, if with himself an Englishman or an American could transport his own labourers and ideas! But nothing is to be done without assistance."

Our estimate of the cheapness of commodities in France must be restricted to the home produce. What the land affords, having no easy conveyance to other parts, no demand from any distance to give it value, must either be consumed on the spot or wasted. Of what vast profit, then, would be the superiour husbandry of England, if, after the crop was produced, it proved to be redundant? It

might stock the publick granary in one year; but what, beside the pleasure of producing it, would prompt the exertions necessary to a second abundance.

"Provisions" says Mr P." are incomparably cheap at Valence and in its vicinity. Trade, however, seemed very slack; the shops were on the smallest possible scale; and every thing which was not produced in the neighbourhood was enormously dear. Groceries in France are nearly twice the price which they bear in England. I made some inquiries as to the rent of land. On large farms it is about five or seven shillings English money per acre. The agriculture seemed very indifferent."

Mr. P. observes that "in large purchases land is very cheap: in small purchases very dear." He ascribes this dearness of small purchases "to the strong repugnance of the small proprietors to part with their paternal lands." We account for it on a

different principle. Where capital is extremely scarce, and where there are no capitalists, or none who venture on speculations, small properties may find many purchasers; but estates demanding the payment of some thousands of pounds will be offered at a cheap rate, from absolute want of "the needful." The price must be an irresistible temptation, by its lowness, before there can be any hope of the commodity being dispos

ed of.

This want of capital pervades the commercial establishments of France; it is one of the evils produced by the revolution, the effects of which will This is one long be felt severely. principle in explanation of the anomaly which puzzled our author at Abbeville, where he found the French broadcloths dearer than English of the same quality.

"Abbeville, which I reached in good time for the table d'hôte, which is held on every market day, is a populous but a most unpleasant town. The inhabitants are stated to exceed 22,000, but I do not of that number. The town has a most conceive that they can amount to one half ruinous appearance, from the circumstance of many of the houses being built with

wood; and by the forms of the windows and the doors, some of them must be very ancient. There are two or three manufactories of cloth, but none of them were in a flourishing condition. I went to visit that of Vanrobais, established by Louis XIV. and which still continues, though in ruins. The buildings are upon a very large scale; but too much was attempted for them to execute any thing in a workmanlike manner. There are different buildings for every different branch of the manufacture. I cannot but think, however, that they would have succeeded better if they had consulted the principle of the sub-division of labour. I saw likewise a manufactory of carpets, which seemed more flourishing. In the cloth manufactory, the earnings of the working manufacturers are about 36 sous per diem [18. 6d.] in the carpet manufactories, somewhat more. The cloths, as far as I am a judge, seemed to me even to exceed those of England: but the carpets are much inferiour. From some unaccountable

reason, however, the cloths were much dearer than English broadcloth of the same quality. Whence does this happen, in a country where provisions are so much cheaper? Perhaps from that neglect of

the sub-division of labour which I have above noticed.

"Abbeville, like all the other principal towns through which I passed, bore melancholy marks of the Revolution. The handsome church which stood in the market-place is in ruins; scarcely a stone

remains on the top of another. Many of

the best houses where shut up, and others of the same description evidently inhabited by people for whom they were not built. In many of them, one room only was inhabited; and in others, the second and third floors turned into granaries. Indeed, along the whole road from Abbe ville to Paris, are innumerable chateaux, which are now only the cells of beggars, or of the lowest kind of peasantry."

He says also, speaking of Tours: "Tours was formerly celebrated for its silk manufactory, and enough of it still remains to invite and to gratify the curiosity of a traveller. The attention of the French government is now unintermit tingly occupied in efforts to raise the manufactures of the kingdom, but whilst the war makes such large demands, trade must necessarily be cramped. The manufactories, however, still continue to work, and produce some beautiful flowered damasks, and brilliant stuffs. The weavers for the most part work at their own houses, and have so much by the piece,

the silk being furnished them by their employers. The prices vary with the pattern and quality of the work; two livers per day is the average of what can be earned by the weavers. The women weave as well as the men, and their earnings may be estimated at about one half. Upon the whole, however, these manufactures are in a very drooping condition, and are scarcely visible to a foreign visitant, unless the immediate object of his inquiry. There is likewise a riband manufactory, but the ribands are very inferiour to those of England. About 1000 persons may be employed in these two manufactories."

The combined operation of these causes, deficiency of mercantile capital, and the conversion of the learn→ ing hands into soldiers, with the other injurious effects of war, account for the impotent state of the French manufactories. Neither will they revive, till peace inspire them with an energy, which capital may be directed to support. We may hint at another cause which possibly has its influence on this subject. The conscripts, taken from among the reputable classes equally with the lower, fill the ranks of the army. Whatever of skill, or taste, or refinement the youth of this description may be supposed to possess; whatever of science they may have acquired superiour to the merely operative labourer, it falls with them in the field. We cannot but think, therefore, that the prodigious loss lately sustained by France on the banks of the Danube must be estimated much above the numerical loss in lives, though that be very great: it affects persons and families who might justly be deemed the strength of the state, as well in intellect as in exertion-and if their commercial capital falls to their sisters, of what use is it to the state?

We confess ourselves disappointed at the cursory notice taken by our traveller of the present condition of the city of Lyons. He says nothing on the late introduction of cotton manufactures into that city, nor of the transit business in which it lately en