or opportunity to ascertain; but an enquiry nearer home will establish the truth of my proposition.Why do we not hear sermons on the danger and vanity of riches?—those riches which the preachers so unscripturally make every effort to acquire-Why not upon the doctrine of "do as you would be done by"?-upon that of the "labourer being worthy of his hire?" Out, upon them, Scribes and Pharisees! hypocrites! They do not wish to see any money spent on any amusement in which they do not share. Why not inveigh against the luxury of the tables at which they sit and gormandize?

Talbot and I went, one day, to hear this P. R— abuse us. He was about as vulgar and canting a fellow as ever disgraced a pulpit, or murdered the beautiful composition of the book of Common Prayer. He had all the cant but none of the ardor of methodism. On our return Talbot gave an imitation of his Lord's Prayer, and then read it as it should be done. Could Mr. Ror any of his brother canters, have witnessed the powerful effect which Talbot imparted to the unadorned and solemn simplicity of that noble composition, how they would shrink from a comparison with the calumniated actor.

After many fruitless attempts to raise the finances, our manager was compelled to abandon the company, leaving me the wardrobe and scenery to make what attempt I could in a "sharing” concern. We got up bills descriptive of our destitute situation, and petitioning for one night's audience to enable us to leave the town; but our appeal was in vain. After

two or three efforts, in which we shared two or three shillings each, we abandoned all hope of Kilkenny. The only part of the house at all attended was the gallery. On the last night of performance, just as the curtain fell after I died in Jaffier, I started out before the audience, savage with our frequent disappointments. The company crowded to the stage doors to know what I was about to say, I proceeded—

"Ladies and Gentlemen, on to-morrow-evening will be performed Shakspeare's celebrated tragedy of Macbeth-Hamlet for an interlude, and Othello as an afterpiece: on which occasion, to meet the theatrical spirit of the town, the boxes will be reduced to three pence, the pit to four pence, but the gallery remains at the old price."

A dead silence followed, which was immediately succeeded by a tremendous row in the gallery, and loud calls for me. The actors, expecting instant demolition, fastened up the entrances to the stage; whilst the actresses, hastily gathering up their dresses, hurried off to their respective lodgings. A difference of opinion in the gallery saved us from the consequences of my impudence and impetuosity. The first proposition was to victimise me; but a kind hearted butcher became my advocate, and insisted that what I said was rather a compliment than an offence to the gallery gods. Let the pit and boxes, he said, take up their own quarrel, but the gallery ought rather stand by than oppose us. Another party, dwelling upon the words "spirit of the town," took an opposite view. The argument soon assumed

a more striking position; by degrees the whole gallery audience were involved in the controversy, and adjourned to the street to decide it. As in many other mooted points, of more importance, the original cause of the dispute was forgotten; and even the non-performance of the farce overlooked. The peaceable adjourned home, glad to escape; those who remained were too deeply interested in the drama without, to think upon what may be behind the curtain.

The next day I called the company together to consider what was to be done in our present extremity. A jealousy, which had existed against me from the commencement of my management, now broke out into open mutiny. The charges were that I was privy to the departure of the manager, and suffered it to take place without informing the company; that I was partial in the distribution of characters; and that, on the last evening, I did away with whatever chance yet remained of taking something in Kilkenny. The consequence was a regular division of the company. 'The greater part still adhered to me-the best-looking of the actresses, the most useful of the men, and an invaluable old woman whom the opposite party did their utmost to wile away. For our carpenter and property-man (useless concerns in a small company) I made up, by a general subscription, fifteen shillings to take them to their homes, and pitied them deeply for the smallness of their funds. I little imagined I should take the same tramp myself with but half-a

crown in my pocket. My poor friend A., who had saved from the general wreck as much as would pay his coach-fare home, begged of me, almost with tears, to accompany him on foot, and share his possession; but I had resolved not to return until I had won and worn the theatrical crown which I deemed still within my reach. The terms of separation were agreed upon our party took Carlow, the other Clonmel. Robbee (the Scotchman) was still with us; with diminished hopes, and a purse even more exhausted. He had, coming amongst us, fifty guineas, a handsome private wardrobe, and a gold watch. Whether all the money was gone, he being a Scotchman, "who still kept something to himsel," it was impossible to say. But the watch stopped, finally, with a near relative in Kilkenny, and the wardrobe was reduced to a single suit.

Next day, after having parted with A. and Henry, I set out with my party, on foot, for Carlow, our baggage coming after in a cart. The unmarried ladies remained in Kilkenny, until I should write that all was arranged. It was late at night when we arrived in Carlow. I was exceedingly tired, and, in attempting to take off my only pair of boots, (horrible to relate) the sole came away from the upper. Here was a dilemma-the manager, upon whose address they depended for a place to perform in, made prisoner for want of shoes. Bedford, my acting manager, who with his wife and four children accompanied us in the tramp, had shoes (which by the way, he got from a highland serjeant) that fitted

me, and we agreed to "double" them until fortune proved more favorable. The consequence was that we were compelled to be confined alternately when it was necessary that one or other should be out.

On the morning after our arrival I waited on the chief magistrate for "permission," which he readily granted. He inquired as to the strength of our company, and seemed inclined to patronise us. This was encouraging. Our next step was to procure the ballroom, the granting of which was vested in a committee of management. I waited upon them, individually, and procured the consent of each, but, when they came together to ratify, the Irish disposition to discuss broke out; a debate followed, concluded by a division, in which we were non-suited by a majority of one. It was "lent" time, and no one would let us a room, store, or loft without the permission of the clergy, which it was impossible to procure. This was very provoking, as we found the townspeople rather inclined to support us. After a week spent in Carlow, in a fruitless effort to procure a place, and during which time we contrived to subsist upon the sale of some guns and swords, part of the stage property, we were compelled in Sportman's phrase, to "try back" upon Leighlin-bridge—a poor, mean-looking village between Kilkenny and Carlow-as the nearest place to make a few shillings in. Bedford and the others went first; sending me back his shoes by the carter who carried the scenery. Here we remained a fortnight, dividing about a shilling a night on the average, but sometimes falling as low as three or four pence.