Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1872-11-01

ago.
The pits in the London theaters have
undergone as great change, though a
different one, as the pit Of the opera,
which now only nominally exists, if il
exists at all. II is now an area OF stalls
the old price for admission is doubled,
and the entertainment is not worth an
eighth of what is charged for it com
pared with that Of the olden time, when
for an eight-and.sixpenny pit ticket you
had Grisi, Mario, Lablanche and Tam
burini, with the minor vocalists, thor
ough artists, in the same opera. What
a spectacle was the grand old house !
The old aristocracy had their boxes for
the season, as they had their town and
country houses. You got intimate with
them by sight; it was pleasure
to note how the beautiful young
daughters Of each family grew in
gracefulness. You took respectful part
in the marriages. At each opening sea-
son you marked whether the roses
bloomed or paled upon the young cheeks,
and you sympathized accordingly. You
spoke Of Lord Marlshire's look with a
hearty, neishborly feeling, and you were
glad that Lady Marlshire coolly seemed
only the eldest sister Of a group Of beau
ties who we're her daughters. As for the
sons of those great families, they were
in full dress, sauntering or gossipping
in that elysium ill-naturedly termed
"Fops' Alley" they were exchanging
recognitions with friends and kinsmen
In all parts of the house. II you heard
distant laugh--loud enough when the
laughers were moved to it--you might be
sure IL was caused by Lord Alvanley,
who was telling some absurdedly jocose
story to group Of noble young England
ers in the pit passages under the boxes.
We have seen the quiet entry Of quiet
man into private box make
quite Gtir. Every stranger felt
that the quiet man was man Of
mark; he came TO snatch momentary
joy and then away 10 affairs of State
again; he was the Prime Minister, Dog
ems of opera-goers have recorded their
souvenirs Of the old glorious days when
the opera, as they say, was on institu-
ton opened only twice week; whereas
each house new Is merely an ordinary
theater, with audiences that are never,
two nights running, chiefly made up of
the same habitues They have told what
friendly interest used to be aroused
when the Duchess of Kent and her
daughter, the Princess Victoria, took
their seats every opera night. We seem
again to hear ringing laugh, and we
know it comes from the sparkling Eng
liah lady with an Italian title, the Coun-
tess st. Antonio. We seem again
to see that marvelously audacious-
looking pair, Lady Blessington and
Count d'Orsay, gauging the house
and appearing to differ as TO the conolu-
sions The red face of the Duchess Of
st. Albans, and the almost as ruddy yes
sci from which her tea was poured, have
been described over and over again; and
in the records Of other ehronicIerG We
fancy that once more there come upon
us the voices Of two gentlemen who
talked so above the singers that a re-
monstant Hushl" went round the build
ing The offenders were the Duke Of
Gloucester snd Sir Robert Wilson. The
soldier would draw out of sight, and the
Prince would make sort of apologetic
remark, 10 o VOICE little higher than
that which had given offense. These are
chronicled in the me-
moirs, diaries and fugitive articles of old
opera.g oers.- Temple Bar.