T S Bellair

In the 'Sportsman' (25/5/'04) I made casual mention of the charming singer and burlesque actress, Julia Mathews, who made her first Australian appearance in Sydney in the old Victoria Theatre, in December, 1854, when she was but ten years of age, the character being Little Pickle, in the 'Spoiled Child." Julia, however, had commenced her theatrical career at the MarionetteTheatre in Leicester-square, London. From there she went to the Strand Theatre in the opening of a pantomime produced there in 1853, while Mr. Aldcroft was manager. At the Strand she appeared in several juvenile characters with marked success, gaining the approval or the London press. At the Victoria, Sydney, Miss Mathews remained 12 months, when Mr. George Coppin induced her parents, who were always her "agent" to accept an engagement at the Olympic, Lonsdale-street, better known in those days as "The Iron Pot" from the nature of its structure. Here Miss Julia increased her popularity until she became the idol of the people. In parentheses, it may be said that in juvenile parts Julia Mathews had a rival in little Anna Marie Quinn, about whom more at another time. At the termination of her engagement with Mr. Coppin, Julia went on tour through the goldfields of Victoria, then studded with theatres, and yielding showers of gold, Dannae-like. Next we hear of her with G. V. Brooke at Melbourne Royal, in such parts as Moth in "Love's Labors Lost," the fool in "King Lear," and other juvenile Shakespearean parts. Later on, we are told, though I don't remember it, and know her career for many years, she appeared as Ophelia, Margaret Overreach ("New Way to Pay Old Debts"), and other characters of that class with Brooke. If she did it must have been as understudy to Fanny Cathcart (Mrs. Robert Heir-Darrell), or when Miss Cathcart had fallen out with the Coppin-Brooke Combination, a severance which lasted a couple of months. Miss Mathews' first appearance in burlesque was in the "Nymph of Lurleyberg." Subsequently she joined George Fawcett (Rowe, but he was never known as Rowe in Australia) at the old Princess' Theatre in Spring-street, one of the very few old houses that fell into the hands of "the knacker," instead of becoming a prey to fire, the usual fate of the theatre. At the Princess' Miss Mathews appeared in all the burlesque and singing parts, which helped to make her famous on the stage. Here also she played many light comedy parts in "The Irish Heiress," "London Assurance," etc., etc., in Irish parts such as Anne Chute in the "Colleen Bawn," in which latter, with Dick Stewart, she made a decided hit. From Melbourne Julia went to New Zealand, where she married Mr. W. H. Mumford, much to the disgust of her parents, who thus lost their "gold mine.'" After some months absence from the stage, she reappeared at the Princess', Dunedin, and at Christchurch and Hokitika. Upon her return to Melbourne, she appeared at the Haymarket under George Coppin's guidance. Here she drew great audiences, her singing and histrionic powers having matured wonderfully. From this engagement she went straight to London, where Mr. Russell, director of Covent Garden Theatre, secured her for the role of the Grand Duchess, in which, and other operatic parts, she gained much distinction. I am afraid that her visit to London was not of such a character as would enhance Julia's reputation before the world. We heard that she had attached herself to a high up member of the British aristocracy; that she kept her brougham and liveried servants, and had done with the stage. The 'cad' of the British aristocracy of the sixties was not built on the lines marital, as poor Julia soon discovered. When she severed this connection, Miss Mathews toured the Continent and America, meeting with success wherever she went. I forget who it was that piloted her, but I know that it was not Mr. Mumford. At the now famous City of St. Louis, Julia was struck down with rheumatic fever, and on May 18, 1876, succumbed to the attack at the early age of 32 years.

I do not think poor Julia's life was a very happy one. From her infancy on the boards she was the breadwinner for her parents ; her teens being simply the drudgery of the stage. Her mother's eye A  never off her on the stage, and her father, who was a check-taker at the pit entrance, had his eye on her from the front. Julia was never seen without one or other in attendance. I had it from Julia's own lips at a rehearsal of "The Irish Heiress," on the stage of the old Princess', that she could have married R. O'Hara Burke, explorer, then an inspector of police at Castlemaine, and that it was her rejection of his suit that induced him to accept the leadership of the expedition, which ended so disastrously to himself and others. Yet she wore his miniature on her breast, and mourned his death. Perhaps it was a good advertisement.
Having reminisced about 'old Rogers' ("Sportsman," 6/7/'04), let us have a turn at 'old Lambert.' He differed from Mr. Rogers inasmuch as he had a very long English training in good theatres before he came to Australia. I heard him on a 'farewell' benefit night (which was not a farewell), say that when he first met G. V. Brooke at the Theatre Royal, Hawkins-street, Dublin, he (J. C. Lambert) was playing juvenile parts. The actor who passed successfully the ordeal of a Dublin theatre of 60 or 70 years ago was somebody. Dublin was the top rung on the ladder of fame, which landed the actor in London. Mr. Lambert commenced his theatrical career in his native county of Norfolk, and his commencement was that of a strolling player, and he has left in a MS. autobiography some amusing recollections of his barnstorming and stroller's life. His first appearance in Australia was at the old Queen's, in Queen-street, Melbourne, another of the old houses that did not go down by fire. Strange to say, be failed to immediately impress the Melbourne public, but the time did come when the play-goers by the Yarra Yarra, next to Brooke, swore by Lambert. My first sight of Mr. Lambert was as Mr. Aspen in the "Nervous Man," G. V. Brooke being the M'Shane. Heavens! what a scream it was from start to finish! The name indicates the character. About the year 1865 there was published a handsome quarto volume entitled 'The Lambert Album.' It contained 16 character portraits of the actor, and there were but three copies of the volume published! The portraits were by the old firm of Batchelder and O'Neil. There were two portraits of Mr. Lambert as Sir Peter Teazle, as Sir Anthony Absolute, as Lord Ogleby, as Justice Shallow, as Sir John Falstaff, as Sir John Vesey, and as Daddy Hardacre. I have seen Lambert in all these characters and many more, excepting Lord Ogleby. In everything he did Mr. Lambert was as perfect as stage effect could make him. In the smallest, as in the largest, characters he was simply perfect in his make-up. As the Apothecary in, "Romeo and Juliet," a character of half-a-dozen lines, he took as much pains to make perfect as he did in Sir Peter Teazle or Anthony Absolute. Many good critics say that Lambert, as Sir Peter Teazle, has never been equalled upon the Australian stage. I have seen Wallack (Julia Harland's father), Lambert, Rogers, Coppin, Cathcart, Hoskins (Julia Harland's husband), and some others in the part, and I must admit my preference for Lambert. Mr Rogers was, as I have said, more the bucolic Sir Peter, but a fine performance nevertheless.

In the mid sixties, when Barry Sullivan, having raised the Theatre Royal and its plays to the highest pitch of excellence, returned to England, Mr. Lambert and five others, having private means, leased the theatre and made money. The five were H. R. Harwood, Richard Stewart, T. S. Bellair, Vincent, and Hennings, the scenic artist. On Mr. Vincent's death I think his widow, Miss Clevland, stepped into his shoes. It was under this management that Mr. J. C. Williamson and the genial Maggie Moore first "Struck Oil." And in this connection a good story is told. Mr. Harwood (real name Biggs, a carpenter by trade, who made his debut as an actor at the old Victoria in Pitt-street in 1855; conducted the negotiations. The Williamsons wanted a certain figure. Harwood demurred, as 'Dutch comedy' had been done to death by Emmet, and the negotiations were about to fail, when, with keen business instinct and a knowledge of what they could do with "Struck Oil," Miss Moore asked if Harwood would share the house after a certain sum for expenses, Harwood jumped at the offer, and closed with the "Muricans." How did Mr. Harwood bite his nails for weeks after, when he stood on the pavement in Bourke-street and watched the people flocking to the Royal. He and his partners gained, of course, but Harwood said that he missed "all the tat" through not giving the Williamsons the salary they asked.

At the Royal, Mr Lambert and his partners made money, and the former retired into private life at a time when his powers had reached maturity. Having only his wife, who also played occasionally, Mr Lambert's income need not be heavy to enjoy the later years of life. As a citizen he was above reproach. He was not a society man; he habitually attended divine service at St. Peter's and carried the plate, "and was so quiet, demure and respectable that he might be taken for a bank manager, or for the respectable bank clerk in a large commercial house."

Mr Lambert retired to the town where he was born to spend the evening of his life, the now cathedral city of Wells. From "Buttlands," Wells, in September 1868, he wrote to a Melbourne friend a chatty letter, in which he showed that he was perfectly satisfied with his life and its cheerful coming close: — "I am living in my native town, which possesses about three thousand inhabitants, among whom are many old school fellows and ancient friends. My life is passing very happily in reading, writing, shooting, sleep, billiards and bowls. The place is attractive enough to induce professional people to visit it. Emma Stanley was here for one night, and we had a long-chat together. We have now a company of actors, gentlemen in appearance, not devoid of talent, and playing to good houses.

On Monday next a circus opens; so you will see my dear friend, that I am not quite mentally, as I hope not for some years to be physically, buried. The happiest portion of my professional life , was spent in Melbourne, but the greatest felicity I have enjoyed from my birth I now experience.'" And when the time came to "ring down," Death found J. C. Lambert quite ready.

"Died at Hobert Town on the 19th of March, 1862, Sir William Don, aged 36 years." Such was the unexpected announcement that met the Melbourne public three days later. Ten years before that I saw the dead walls of the city of Dublin placarded with the announcement that "Sir William Don, Baronet, the Eccentric Comedian," was about to appear at the Theatre Royal. His advent to Australia had a special interest for myself and all who came from the city by the Liffey; for had not Sir William Don taken unto himself for wife one of the prime favorites of the old Queen's, in Dublin, Miss Emily Saunders? There were three of the name at the Queen's Charlotte Saunders and a brother, a co median, bow-legged, whom we gallery boys nicknamed “Bandy Saunders." But Dublin had known Sir William Don be fore he took to the stage as a profession. He had been A.D.C. to one of the Lords-Lieutenant of Ireland, and well up in Dublin society, and had well advertised himself in private theatricals before, on loss of fortune, he took to the boards as a professional. The first appearance of the Dons in Melbourne was made in 1860. Lady Don in "The Daughter of the Regiment," and Sir William in the farce of "Toodles." Just imagine a 6ft 6in man in such a character as Mr. Toodles. The Marsh troupe of child comedians had previously introduced the farce to Melbourne, when Master George played the part; the contrast between the 4ft-nothing boy and the 6ft 6in baronet was ludicrous. To add to the fun, Don had all the stage furniture made in miniature, so that he walked as easily over chairs and tables as he did over footstools. His greatest hit, however, was as Queen Elizabeth in Kenilworth burlesque, with Lady Don as the Earl of Leicester. Six feet six inches, and splendidly made up, as the red-haired virgin Queen! But Sir William Don did not confine himself to English comedy; he excelled an Bailie Nicol Jarvie, Jock Howison, Dandie Dinmont, and suchlike; but perhaps one of the most extraordinary performances he ever took part in, and certainly one of the most extraordinary that I ever witnessed, was when "The Rivals" was produced with an "Ollapodrida" company — all stars and all good men in their several lines. Amongst them was Sir William Don, as Fag! John Drew, the Irish comedian, was Bob Acres; so you may guess what a 'screamer' it was. Of Lady Don's ability no eulogy can be too high. As a vocalist and an actress she was attractive in everything she appeared in, and even without her husband she held her own on the stage until the baronet's family thought it was but right that his widow should "retire on her rank." There was no estate, but I believe the Wauchopes of Edmonstone, near Edinburgh , and Newton House, Mussellburgh, N.B., to whom the barren title went on Sir William's death, saw to the widow's comfort. Sir William Don had gone through two large fortunes before he had taken to the stage, and when he threw up his commission in the Guards and took to the boards, it was in the hope of being able to buy back his old Scottish home. In a stage speech at Melbourne, in which he advised everybody to avoid debt, he said that he had been in the hands of usurers since he was "so high," indicating about 8ft from the boards. "To owe £20," said he, "and have £19 19s 11d to pay it with, was simply misery, but with £20 1s heaven!" To a friend in Melbourne he wrote from Hobart Town, a fortnight before his death, in a very cheerful strain :— "I have been dreadfully weak and pulled down since I have been here, and in bad spirits; but within the last two or three days I have Sir Walter Raleighed wonderfully. This is the most magnificent climate in the world. Come over at once. We shall be here for a fortnight longer and then Launceston two weeks, then back to Melbourne for Adelaide. Our success has been very great, Behold the proof:
Receipts at Launceston, one week    £416
Receipts at Hobart Town, one week £360
Total ................................................ £776
Our share ..........................................£388

The journey from here to -Launceston is really wonderfully beautiful. You will be delighted with It. Come at once." Even then the grave was opening for him, and he knew it not. Lady Don survived him 13 years, dying in England September 20, 1873, leaving an only daughter. To Sir William Don is attributed a freak which has been set down also to the credit or debit of W. E. Gladstone. Sir William had a habit of travelling third-class on the railway out of Edinburgh. To break him off the habit, the officials one day caused a number of chimney sweepers, with their bags and brushes, to be put into the same compartment. Don took in the situation. 'Come along with me, my lands," and after "shouting" for them in the refreshment room, he purchased first-class tickets for the lot, and planted himself and the sweeps in a first-class carriage. When they reached the end of their journey the drab cloth linings of the Carriage were sooty indeed.

(To be continued.)

At Spiers and Pond's 'Hall by the Sea’, at Margate, when the 'Special Bohemian' of the 'Orchestra' arrived at his destination ('Sportsman,' September 28, 1904), he found 'A crowd, a Tricon playing, surrounded with gas jets, looking as if Spiers and Pond were practising hard to set the Thames on fire, more gas devices and jets over the facade (for which word I am indebted to the 'Standard'), and a large poster, which informed me that Claribel's Ballads were to be sung every night.

***

'On being restored to consciousness'—he does not say how he became unconscious, I have my suspicions — 'I found the concert had commenced. M. Jullian was the conductor; and the programme included the names of Madame Parepa, Mdlle. Liebhart, Miss Eyles, Miss Rose Herssee, Mr. Farquharson, Mr. Weiss, and Mr. Perron (vocalists), Miss Kathleen Ryan, Miss Kate Gordon, and Herr Strauss. Herr Meyer Lutz was the accompanist, The hall was crammed, and the concert went off like one of Spiers and Pond's champagne corks. The orchestra is first-rate, and Jullian conducts with all the chic of his father before him. I never heard popular music more popularly played than the lighter selections on Saturday. As for the singing, we had the pompous Parepa, who was not half so much to my Bohemian taste as the graceful and unpretending Rose Hersee, who sang 'Where the Bee Sucks' in a way that electrified Margate right through the hall and out and across the road, right down to the bathing machines. Then there was Fraulein Liebhardt, who was vociferously recalled for her 'Lover and the Bird' (especially the 'Bird'), and the chivalrous-looking Weiss, who kept his 'Watch at the Fore’, although it was long past that hour, and, of course, his watch must have been awfully slow, although the song wasn't; and there was the terrific basso from the colonies called Farquharson, who accompanied capitally on the piano and sang the 'Wolf' with the most hilarious hilarity. (At this point I had an interview with Spiers and Pond in the refreshment room.) George Perren was then on with Mr. Weiss, and, as by this time the place had been formally opened, the duet was appropriately 'Hall's Well,' after which Miss Kathleen Ryan played a lot of Weber on the piano, and a flutter went through many a manly Margate heart to behold that clever and fascinating young lady, with the large dark eyes, and the power of the wrist, not to mention— (Spiers and Pond have just sent for me). To resume, Miss Kate Gordon also gave us a touch of her very excellent quality on a somewhat obdurate Broadwood, and Miss Eyles having contributed 'The Lady of the Lea,' which the programme informed us was composed by 'Claribel' (Ha! ha! I now see how her songs are to be done every night!), and Spiers and Pond having executed a most successful duet together in the shape of a bow from the orchestra, exhausted nature could do no more, and I rushed off to sup with a noble and intimate friend at No. 4 Royal Crescent. When I emerged from the hall a very beautiful experiment in lights was going on under the direction of my talented and affable friend, Mr. George Dolby. It appeared that whenever the transparencies at the hall were lit up, all the Margate lights, including the pier lights, went down. It had an indescribably beautiful effect, and, as such, reflects great credit on Spiers and Pond. Our old friend Dolby did not seem to see it in the same light, and made severe remarks upon the Gas Company. Mr. Thorne (local assistant of Mr. Hingston, the manager), having been despatched to sit on the gasometer, peace and harmony were restored, and your old Bohemian speedily found his weary form reposing elegantly on a sofa, at No. 4, above distantly referred to. There was hock, much hock, a beautiful balcony, and cigars; also fair women, and a murmurous sea in front. I like the lot, my noble friend , ———.

'Come! (said your own Bohemian to the company generally) unto these yellow Margate sands, with yellow Margate boots on at 4s 6d, and there take hands. Where the wild waves tumble o'er— and in which I shall bathe to-morrow, probably in the afternoon, drinking in the meantime a cup of kindness yet (with a slice of lemon in it) to Spier's and Pond, than whom I——'

(Here our correspondent's letter becomes luckily illegible. We are, however, enabled from other and more trustworthy sources to state that the Margate Hall-by-the-Sea is likely to prove a well-merited success.— Ed.)

***

The old Melbourne Royal and the historic cafe are doomed. After a life of half a century, with a fire midway, the old building, I believe, goes. The history of the Melbourne Theatre Royal will include the history of the best days of the Victorian stage, when the acting was acknowledged to be at his best, and without the adjunct of pretty scenery and elaborate properties. The theatre was built by John Black, a name unknown in theatricals until then, but well known on the road between Melbourne and Sandhurst as a carrier in the early fifties, at a time when carriage meant £100 per ton. Out of his pile Mr. Black built the Royal, and lost his pile. It was opened in 1855 with the 'School for Scandal.' The old Queen's was then open, and doing well, G. V. Brooke being the attraction. The Queen-street house was good enough for the prehistoric days of Melbourne, but with the discovery of gold and the advent of thousands of gold-seekers, and the success of thousands of these in gold finding, the 'playhouse' erected by John Thomas Smith in the forties was found to be inadequate to the public wants.

When George Coppin (whom God preserve) went to England in search of talent, and found G. V. Brooke, he also bethought him that, being such an expensive star-— £300 a week— and he dependent upon one small theatre, was not, in colonial parlance, good enough. Accordingly he made his way to Birmingham, and entered into a contract with Messrs Bellhouse and Co. to build him in sections an iron theatre, capable of holding £300. Mr. Coppin's first agreement with G. V. Brooke was, I believe, for 200 nights at £50, or a total of £10,000. The theatre was named the Olympic, out of compliment to the theatre so named in which, in 1847, G. V. Brooke made his first London appearance. The Melbournites, however, dubbed it the 'Iron Pot,' though it was as pretty and cozy a theatre as anyone could wish. Brooke, however, did not open it; that honor was bestowed on the Wizard Jacobs, as Brooke was playing elsewhere. In 1856 George Coppin became possessed of the Royal. In that year Brooke and Coppin entered into partnership, before, I think, the original engagement was concluded. They separated in 1858, Brooke retaining the Royal, Coppin taking as his share of the assets the 'Iron Pot' and Cremorne Gardens, at which latter place he did a roaring business. It was then, I think, that Brooke commenced to lose money. As I have pointed out before he was not a business man and relied upon others to look after his interests. At first Richard Younge managed for him, then Robert Heir. Henry Edwards, from Sydney, was engaged in the stock company, and George Fawcett was running the old Princess'. On the failure of Heir as manager, Edwards and Fawcett were appointed. Their management ended in disaster. Ambrose Kyte was owner of the building, and had been called upon on many occasions for accommodation cheques to keep the ghost walking. The failure of Edwards and Fawcett, as managers, was the means of healing a breach that had occurred between Coppin and Brooke, and the former returned to the Royal as manager. Its position at this time was not satisfactory. After giving Burton's circus a show, Wilton had it for a while, and under his auspices, in 1862, Barry Sullivan appeared. In 1863 Sullivan showed what he could do in management, and in 1865 William Hoskins and Clarence Holt joined hands, holding together until 1867, when the theatre came under the joint management of six very worthy stage men — J. Chambert, Charles Vincent, H. R. Harwood, Richard Stewart, T. S. Bellard, and John Hennings, the scenic artist. The six held together, and did well for some time. Each man had his allotted duty in management, and did it. The first break in the six was the death of Charles Vincent, occasioned by an accident, deemed of small moment at the time. He had purchased a horse, and was about mounting to go for a ride when the animal became restive and threw the rider; in the fall one of his hands was injured, lockjaw set in, and the popular husband of Miss Cleveland went the way of all flesh. Mr. Lambert went England and ended his days in the village in which he first saw the light. Tom Bellair went into hotel management. He kept the Rainbow at Ballarat for some years, and died in the principal hotel at Wagga Wagga. Harwood retired, and went on a tour to to India and China, I think. The partnership then became Coppin, Greville and Hennings, and Harwood again joined later on. The old Royal Theatre was burned in March, 1872. The piece being performed on the fatal night was the 'Streets of New York,' the hero of which was played by a very capable actor of those days, James Carden, Miss Eloise Juno also being in the company. Mr. G. R. Ireland and all the members of the company suffered losses in wardrobes, etc. The historic cafe was then in the occupation of the renowned scenic artist, William Pitt, father of the architect of today. Mr. Pitt had for many years kept the Garrick's Head Hotel, opposite the Eastern Market, where his right-hand Hebe was the now Mrs. Roberts, of the Criterion Theatre Hotel, Sydney, but then well known to us youngsters as Miss Polly Smith. The first to discover the fire was Jack Conway, the well-known cricketer, who was smoking a midnight cigar at the window of Sayers' Prince of Wales Hotel, Bourke-street. Six months previously the Haymarket Theatre was burned down, and but a few weeks before the Prince of Wales Opera House, in Castlereagh-street, went under to the same agency. In the seventeen years life of the old Royal there were memories both pleasant and painful. In the seventeen years there were, it might be said, three periods, the Brooke, the Sullivan, and the Montgomery. Mark the distinction between the two pieces, that at the opening 'The School for Scandal,' and that at the close, 'The Streets of New York!' A decadence truly.

As the actors were homeless through the fire, and out of work, and many out of cash, something had to be done for their relief. Among the most attractive efforts to gather in coin was a cricket match on the principal Melbourne ground, the cricketers in costume, and to some extent supporting the characters they sustained. George Coppin appeared as Paul Pry, J. R. Greville as 'A party by the name of Johnstone,' Mr. Hennings as Claude Melnotte, Mr. Carden as Enoch Arden, Richard Stewart as Lord Dundreary, Ireland as Cassio, John Dunn as 'That Rascal Jack,' Appleton as Ronaldo, Roberts as Asa Trenchard, old Jimmy Milne as Mike Feeney, and minor men in various guises. At the time of the fire the Princess' was empty, and the lessee, William Saurin Lyster, offered it to Mr. Coppin and his friends for a short season. Mr. Coppin made a speech — he was always great on speeches — in which he detailed his sorrows. Six years previously he had started life afresh without a sixpence; he had succeeded, but the fire had swept away most of the provision which he had made for old age and a large family. Yet Mr. Coppin re-built the Royal and opened the new venture on Cup night (Cup winner, John Tait's The Quack), 1872, with an address written by Dr. Neild and spoken by Mrs. Collins, then (later on Mrs. H. R. Harwood) nee Docy Stewart. Then followed 'To Oblige Benson' and 'Milky White,' in both of which Mr. Coppin appeared. The company proper was at Adelaide, but Coppin did not wish to miss a bumper house such as always eventuates on Cup night. Since then the fortunes of the theatre have been varied. Many new theatrical ventures have sprung into existence, the most formidable being the gorgeous Princess'.

At the time of the opening of the Theatre Royal (No. 2), the Princess' was in full swing with a strong company under Stuart O'Brien and Miss Jones, heavy tragedy being the order of the night. During the same Cup week a dramatic benefit was given Mr. John Whiteman, who had filled as many parts in life as did the late George Adams. Mr. Whiteman was a blacksmith by trade, and a poet by instinct, his little volume, 'Sparks from the Anvil,' being readable. He had been a publican, and in that, as in other trades, had his ups and downs. On the benefit night Coppin and Stewart appeared; Marcus Clarke wrote an address, which was spoken by John Edwards the younger. Looking over those old bills, one comes across many names now absolutely forgotten, of the seniors George Coppin being about the only one of a long list now remaining; and about this time— 1872 — there arose a controversy regarding 'deadheads,' in which Mr. George Coppin, Morton Tavares, and others took part. The germ of the controversy was as to whether Vice-Regal patrons should not pay for seats occupied in the theatre even on 'command nights.' The Vice Regal delinquent at whom George Coppin was hitting, and hitting mighty hard, was Viscount Canterbury, who in his earlier days was known as John Henry Thomas Manners-Sutton. The correspondence was carried on with some vigor, the theatrical critics, strange to say, siding with the deadheads, from a fellow-feeling perhaps. There was a dramatic association in existence in Melbourne at the time, and the matter was thoroughly threshed out at its meetings. Viscount Canterbury, who appears, from the correspondence, to have been a persistent deadhead, asked Mr. Coppin to send in an account of the 'items,' but this Mr. Coppin declined to do, on the ground that his profession never gave credit. Of this interesting dispute more anon.

(To be continued.)