l glasses cleverly
stationed out of sight behind his apparatus, to make us believe that
we do indeed hear the crystal spheres ring out that chime, which if
it were to enwrap our fancy long, Milton thinks,

"Time would run back and fetch the age of gold,
And speckled Vanity
Would sicken soon and die,
And leprous Sin would melt from earthly mould;
Yea, Hell itself would pass away,
And leave its dolorous mansions to the peering day."

[Footnote 1: It will be said these things are done in pictures. But
pictures and scenes are very different things. Painting is a world of
itself; but in scene-painting there is the attempt to deceive; and
there is the discordancy never to be got over, between painted scenes
and real people.]

The garden of Eden, with our first parents in it, is not more
impossible to be shown on a stage, than the Enchanted isle, with its
no less interesting and innocent first settlers.

The subject of Scenery is closely connected with that of the Dresses,
which are so anxiously attended to on our stage. I remember the last
time I saw Macbeth played, the discrepancy I felt at the changes of
garment which he varied, the shiftings and reshiftings, like a Romish
priest at mass. The luxury of stage-improvements, and the importunity
of the public eye, require this. The coronation robe of the Scottish
monarch was fairly a counterpart to that which our King wears when he
goes to the Parliament house, just so full and cumbersome, and set
out with ermine and pearls. And if things must be represented, I see
not what to find fault with in this. But in reading, what robe are we
conscious of? Some dim images of royalty--a crown and sceptre may
float before our eyes, but who shall describe the fashion of it? Do
we see in our mind's eye what Webb or any other robe-maker could
pattern? This is the inevitable consequence of imitating everything,
to make all things natural. Whereas the reading of a tragedy is a
fine abstraction. It presents to the fancy just so much of external
appearances as to make us feel that we are among flesh and blood,
while by far the greater and better part of our imagination is
employed upon the thoughts and internal machinery of the character.
But in acting, scenery, dress, the most contemptible things, call
upon us to judge of their naturalness.

Perhaps it would be no bad similitude, to liken the pleasure which we
take in seeing one of these fine plays acted, compared with that