Star.
London, England, 1821-12-20 00:00:00

This day was published,
Tn One Vol. price eis. boards, the Second Edition,
FREWELL LE.ITERS to a FEW FRIENDS
in RATTAN and AMERICA on returning to BEN-
GAL, in 1821.—8 y 'WILLIAM WARD, of Serampore.
_ London: Printed [or Black, Kingsbury, Parbury, and Allen,

This day was published, in Quarto
With a separate Volume of Maps and Plans, price £4.145. 6d.
of the OPERATIONS ot the BRI-
TISH ARMY in INDIA, during the Mahratta War
of 1817, 1818, and 1819.
By Lieutenant-Colonel VALENTINE BLACKER,
Companion of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, and
Quarter-Master-General of the Army of Fort St. George. •
London : Printed for Black, Parbnry, Kingsbury, and Allen,
Lead enhal 1-street.

This day were published,
In Two Vols. /Ivo. price XI. Is. boards,
MEMOIRS of her late Majesty, CAROLINE
AMELIA ELIZABETH, Queen Consort of George
tha Fourth : including ample Particulars and original Informs,
tinn relative to her early Life—her Marriage to the Prince of
Wales—the Secret History of the Years 17954—the Conduct
of Lady Douglas, and the Origin of that Conspiracy—her Tra-
vels on the Continent—her Correspondence—the History of the
Milan Commission—and the Evidence and Documents which
' arrived too late for the House of Lords.
By JOHN WILES, Jun.
Printed for Sherwood, Neely, and Jones, Paternoster-row.

“ MY FIRST PLAY!”

The following excellent article is extracted from
the last Number of the London Magazine. It is from
the elegant pen of Ectis, whose contributions form a
regular and valuable portion of that popular periodical:
" At the north end of Russell-court there yet stands
a portal, of some architectural pretensions., though
reduced to humble use, serving at present for an en-
trance to a wine vault. This old door-way, if you
:.re young, Reader, you may not know was the iden-
tical pit entrance to Old Drury—Gari ick's Drury—
all of it that is left. I never pass it without shaking
some forty years from off my shoulders, recurring to
the evening when !passed through it to see my first
play. The afternoon had been wet, and the condi-
tion of our .goiug (the elder folks and myself) was,
that the ram should cease. • With what a beating
heart did I watch from the window the puddles,
from the stillness of which I was taught to prognos-
ticate the desired cessation ! I seem to remember the
last spurt, and the glee with which I ran to an-
nounce it.
" We went with orders, which my godfather F.
had sent us.' He kept the oil shop itiow Davies's) at
the corner of Featherstone-buildings„.iallolborn.--
F. was a tall grave person, lofty in speech, and had
pretensions above, his' rank. Ile assor.iated in those
days with John Palmer, the comedian, whoie gait
and bearing he seemed to copy; if John (which is
quite as likely) did not rather borrow somewhat of
his manner from my godfather. He was also known'
to, and visited by Sheridan. It was to his house in
Holborn that young Brinsley broirilit his first wife,
on her elopement with him from a boarding-school
at Bath—the beautiful Maria Linley. My parents
were present (over a quadrille table) when he arrived
in the evening with his harmonious charge. From
either of these connexions it may be inferred that my
godfather could command an order for the thew
Drury-Lane Theatre at pleasure—and, indeed, a'
pretty liberal issue of those cheap billets, in Brins-'
ley's easy autograph, I have heard him say was the
sole remuneration which he had received for many
years' nightly illumination of the orchestra and vari-
ous avenues of that theatre—and he was content it
should be so. The honour of Sheridan's familiarity—
or supposed familiarity—was better to my godfather
than money.
"In those days were pit orders. Beshrew the un-
comfortable manager who abolished them!—with
one of these we went. I remember the waiting at
the door-.not that which is left—but between that
and au inner door in shelter-0! when shall Ibe such
an expectant again !—with the cry of nonpareils, in,
indispensable play-house accompaniment in those
days. As near as I can recollect the fashionable pro-
nunciation of the theatrical fruiteresses then was,
4 Chase some oranges, chase some numparels, chase
a bill of the play ; —chase pro chuse. But when we
got in, and 1 beheld the green curtain that veiled
a heaven-to my imagination, which was soon to be
disclosed—the breathless anticipations I endured !
I bad seen something like it in the plate prefixed to
Troilus and Cressida, in Rowe's Shakspeare—the
tent scene with Diomede—and a sight of that plate
can always bring back in a measure the feeling of
that evening. The boxes at that time, full of well-
dressed women of quality, projected over the pit;
and the pilasters reaching down were adorned with
a glistering substance (1 know not what) under glass
(as it seemed), resembling—a homely fancy—but I
judged it to be sugaocandy—yet, to my raised ima-
gination, divested of its homelier qualities, it ap-
peared a glorified candy ! `The orchestra lights at
length arose, those " fair Auroras!" Once the bell
sounded. It was to ring out yet once again—and,
incapable of the anticipation, I reposed my shut eyes
in a sort of resignation upon the maternal lap. It
rang the second time. The curtain drew up—l was
not past six years old—and the play was Artaxerxes,
" I had dabbled a little in the Universal History—
the ancient part of it—and here was the Court of
Persia. It was being admitted to a sight of the past.
I took no proper interest in the action going en, for
I understood not its import—but I heard the word
Darius, and I was in the midst of Daniel. AU feel-
ing was absorbed in vision. Gorgeous vests, gar.'
dens, palaces, princesses, passed before me. 1 knew
not players. I was in Persepolis for the time; and
the burning idol of their devotions was as if the sun
itself should have been brought down to minister at
the sacrificial altar. I took those significations to be
something more than elemental fires. Harlequin's
InvaAion followed: where, I remember, the trans-
formation of the magistrates into reverend beldams
seemed to me a piece of grave historic justice, and
the taylor carrying his own head, to be as sober a
verity as the legend of St. 1..ny1."